She sat up straighter then. “Wait, there’s women in your hotel room?”
He huffed. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what? I’m on the phone with you while some random girl out there askin’ for another bottle?”
“It’s not that deep, Prin. I’m chillin’. You know how it is after shows.”
She shook her head. “No. What I know is that you’re in another country, surrounded by women I don’t know, and that’s not supposed to be that deep?”
“Man, you trippin’ now. I ain’t doin’ nothin’.”
“Then why are they there?” she asked sharply. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“I just told you. We just chillin’. It’s the afterparty.”
“Chillin’ with hoes at a after-party.”
“Why you makin’ it a thing?”
“Why you acting like I’m stupid? Like I’m just supposed to sit here and smile while you play me?”
He sighed, exasperated. “I’m not playing you, Prin. It’s just some people. You know how this life goes. I’m not on anything.”
“I don’t care how the ‘life goes.’ I care howyoumove. And right now? You moving real dumb.”
There was another pause. He didn’t apologize like she wanted. Didn’t try to reassure her like she expected him to.
Instead, Zay said, “I’m not about to go back and forth. I’m tired. We just finished two sets, and you tryna make this a fight.”
She blinked. “Wow.”
“Come on, Princess. Don’t do this tonight.”
Her throat burned. Her fingers trembled against the phone. “I held you down while you chased this dream. I stayed up with you, I helped you, I prayed for you. And the first time you get a little taste of the world paying attention, you forget who always did?”
“That’s not fair,” he mumbled. “Prin, it ain’t that deep. What’s wrong with you?”
“Naw, this ain’t fair,” she snapped, voice breaking. “You called me, Zay. You called me. I’m supposed to sit here and pretend like this don’t hurt?”
He didn’t say anything. She listened as the pause was broken by another woman’s laughter in the background.
So, she hung up.
For some reason she couldn’t explain in that moment, the silence afterward hit harder than anything he could’ve said. She stared at the phone for a minute, hoping and waiting for it to ring. For him to call back. But it didn’t. Not one text. Not one apology. Not one, “Are you okay?”
Princess sat there frozen for a moment, then the tears came. Not dramatic ones, just the slow, hot ones that fell before shecould blink them away. She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, but it didn’t stop. The ache in her chest grew larger.
Her stomach grumbled, and she stood quickly. Confused, she stumbled into the bathroom and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet. She gripped the rim as bile rose up her throat. Her body convulsed as she vomited. Her chest heaved, nose ran, and her hands shook.
She gasped between heaves and tried to calm herself.
Is it the crying or the chicken alfredo? God, get it together.
She flushed the toilet, leaned against the bathroom wall, and sat there with her knees pulled to her chest. Her thoughts flashed back to Zay.
She had a sinking feeling she couldn’t quite place. There was no answer. No closure. No call back.
Just herself and a deafening silence.
