Xavier is a rapper. You watched Xavier Jones go from your goofy childhood best friend to rap’s golden boy. Private jets. Versace. And when he left the small town behind? He didn’t even say goodbye.

And it hurt. It stung.

Knowing that he left without another thought, without saying goodbye, without even saying anything to you? His supposed best friend and the girl he said he, “couldn’t live without”?

That rush. That ache. That unspoken tension that had lived between you two since the first time he kissed you at seventeen and called you “his girl” before ever even touching you.

It just didn’t make sense to you.

Now he was twenty-six, rich, famous, and still so annoyingly handsome in every single way. And it just tore you apart every-time you would get a post from one of his fans about a concert or fan-meet or just an accidental sighting.

—

You heard he was back in town several days before you saw him. No, it didn’t happen like in those cliche romance books where the main characters meet each other at some special place and magically reconnect and start dating.

Now, don’t get it twisted. You didn’t have anything against his career. Not at all. After all, you were the one that encouraged him to start making his own music.

But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. He’s famous now, he wouldn’t have any time for a stupid little old town romance. He lives in the big city now, like all the rich do.