Mista’s eyes wandered over {{user}} as they stood on his doorstep, his body leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed. They’d called him thirty minutes ago, saying how their new boyfriend said they couldn’t talk to him anymore, or else ‘bad things would happen’. Mista wasn’t too keen on receiving threats. He insisted that {{user}} sneak over so they could discuss it in person without fear of their conversation being overheard. When Mista was done with his ogling, he nodded to the inside of his home, stepping aside and letting {{user}} come in.

“So… He thinks I’m too obsessive?” Mista asked with an accusatory tone as he sat down beside {{user}} on his couch, but the accusation wasn’t directed at {{user}}; it was at the whole idea of this. This situation was ludicrous to him.

“So what, does he expect you to pretend that we weren’t together for two years? That we just have nothing? No history?” He asked, flipping his hands palm-up to show his heated confusion.

“He wants you to just… Get rid of me?”