ɪɴᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴɪᴇɴᴛ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ

10.

V O T E + C O M M E N T

Regardless of what was currently going on with Aubrey and Selena, he couldn't stay home. He could've, but after being locked away in his room for almost two days. He was trying to reach out to Selena in any way he could; every time, it was just as unsuccessful as the first. Not eating, not speaking, not even writing up music. To say that his friends were worried about him would've been an understatement. His manager Oliver was able to have OB move from his room and to the studio in his Houston home.

Aubrey knew he fucked up. Not only did he know that he'd fucked up, but he fucked up royally. Aubrey left Selena back at home, but due to him not being able to control his emotions after being confronted by Santiago. Aubrey said some things to Selena that he knew he should've never spoken. On top of everything, he let his friends rope him into accompanying them to the strip club that he was caught at by the paparazzi that swarmed around them.

Aubrey knew for a fact that only gassed the flames between him and his wife. They've gotten into arguments before, but it never came down to the point of her leaving him for days on end like this. Aubrey didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to make of everything. The only thing that raced through Aubrey's mind for the past week was the question of if Selena was going to leave him or not. Sure, women have ghosted him that he cared for in the past, but it was clear that he's never had a love like this before; and he was for certain he'd never get another like it. Did he lose his family?

His friends didn't know how to help him but to get him in the studio. Maybe with Aubrey being in a familiar setting, that would help with his funk. They all knew that Selena wasn't going to leave him, but how Aubrey was acting, you would've thought that she signed the divorce paper already. "Bro," 40 Aubrey's longtime friend and musical producer called, trying to gain his attention away from his phone.

Aubrey sighed, looking at all of the unread messages that he's constantly been sending his wife. It was evident that she had blocked his number in her phone, wanting nothing to do with him. That fucked him up. "What's up, man?" Aubrey replied, stuffing his phone back into the front pocket of his hoodie, looking over at his friend.

Forty arched a concerned brow at his friend; Forty didn't know what was going on with his friend. One thing was for sure was how ruffed he looked; his boy was looking as if someone died. Aubery was due for a needed line up and the stench coming off of him was another thing he had to address. "I've been asking you about this beat, and you're not present with us." Forty smirked over at Aubrey, who couldn't even crack a smile even if he wanted to.

"I'm sorry, man," Aubrey said, looking away from Forty. "I'm here. Play it again for me," he said.

"No, I'm not, because you might be in the chair, but your body still ain't in the building." Forty started removing his hands from the board, sitting back in his seat. "You look like a fucking mess; the fuck is up with you?" He asked,

"Forty," Aubrey deeply sighed, not wanting to speak about his wife.

"Wifey just got him in his feelings," Chubbs voiced from his seat on the couch that was behind them.