You were lying on the velvet chaise in the master bedroom of the mansion — lights dim, your silk robe falling off one shoulder, nails freshly done, face bare but still glowing. You had just finished your skincare routine, feet propped up, scrolling through TikTok with a glass of wine in hand. The house was quiet, just the hum of the security system and the soft boom of bass from Dreon’s studio downstairs. But he wasn’t home. He said he had a “late night studio session with Tone and Rico.” That was five hours ago. You decided to switch to his insta account, scrolled through the messages. It was dry at first. Group chats with the homies. Business talk. A 🍃 plug. A few “where u at?” texts from random girls he never bothered to answer. Then your heart dropped. A message from a name saved as: “💋Jazzy💋” You switch back and text him“where you at?” 💋Jazzy💋: “he busy rn 💋”