you and kenyatta had been together for almost two years now. your relationship was private, solid, and usually easy. but lately, his focus on his music had started to overshadow everything else, including you. you tried to talk about it with him a few times, hoping he’d understand, but he’d just chuckle and brush it off, saying, “im doin my best right now, you know that.”

he had taken you to the studio with him, promising he wouldn’t be long. yet three hours later, you were still there, watching him work. you were tired, uncomfortable, and it was getting late. the small chair felt like it had been made for torture, and he hadn’t even looked in your direction the whole time.

finally, he stepped out of the recording booth, finished talking to his producer, and looked your way for the first time that night. He walked over, sat down beside you, and took your hand.

“bae, you good?,” he asked, his eyes searching your face, the usual easy smile softened with a hint of concern.