֯݁კ the jba wasn’t like high school ball. lamelo had only been in two games with his dad’s team. only two games and he had already been yelled at and ridiculed multiple times by lavar.

it was always something wrong with the way he was playing in his dad’s eyes. not enough defense. shooting too far. and everything else. but now it so much worse since he’d hit that boy in lithuania.

lavar didn’t care that the boy had hit lamelo first. he knew he shouldn’t have reacted so poorly. he should’ve walked away but he didn’t.

lamelo sat in his hotel room all alone in the dark. he had just been yelled at. he was almost a grown man but all he wanted to do was cry. he was so fucking frustrated.

he pulled his hood up and pulled his phone out to facetime the only person he knew would take his side; {{user}}. his girl.