jack stares at the phone and bites his thumb nail as he watches the video of sierra on megan the stallions story. there's four videos of sierra back to back. the first one is an outfit check, the second one is dusse being poured down her throat, the third a video of solely megan and sierra, where sierra is making the duck face and smiling at the camera, and the last, the one that has him fucked up the most, is her dancing on a random guy who's head is cut out of the video.
he doesn't know whether he should be turned on by the way she's dancing, or distraught because of the fact that it's not him that she's dancing on. he's somewhere in between.
"you good, bro?" druski asks, furrowing his brows at his suddenly quiet friend.
"he ain't good—look at what he watching," urban wyatt says from the studio couch. druski gets up and walks over to jack, looking over his shoulder at his phone. jack doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's being put in a trance by sierra.
druski sucks his teeth. "come on, man," jack only shrugs and sighs. locking his phone and leaning his head back and closing his eyes. after sierra left their section last night, his mood plummeted. his brain is so stuck on her, that he couldn't even entertain his 'date' after the club. he simply dropped her off where he picked her up and didn't look back. didn't reply to her messages when he woke up. "leave that alone, bro."
"you know what she said to me last night?" jack asks, eyes still closed.
"didn't she blow you off the other night?" urban asks, rolling up a backwood.
"she obviously had a change of heart," jack says, like he's trying to convince himself. "i'm gonna call her."
"dont call her," druski and urban say at the same time. jack opens one eye and squints at them.
"why not?"
"she was drunk last night! she was saying anything," druski says, obviously bitter that she cut their friendship off because of jack.
jack shakes his head. "nah. it was different," he says, opening both eyes and sitting up. he still knows her like the back of his hand, he's seen her drunk. he knows the look in her eye, and when she's being serious, or when she clearly won't remember doing anything the next day. "imma call her." he says decidedly. druski bats his hand in jacks direction, waving him off.
jack gets up and exits the studio, dialing sierras number from memory. he leans against the wall as the phone rings and rings, until he gets sent to voicemail. he calls her again, partly to be an asshole, but mostly because he needs to talk to her.
the line picks up, and jack straightens. "hello?" she asks, her voice hoarse and groggy.
"good morning to you too," jack says. it's silent before sierra groans. jack can practically hear the eye roll as she sighs. it's clear to him that she picked up without checking who it was.
"what do you want?" she mumbles.
"it's 12 pm and you're still asleep? not very nurse-like of you."
"fuck you. what do you want?" she asks again, her voice clearer. jack smiles to himself.
"i'm taking you up on your offer," he says. when she doesn't respond he adds, "from last night. you know where to find me." he mimics.
sierra scoffs. "fuck you. i was drunk," she replies. but she remembers very clearly, but only partially meant it. she didn't like what she saw up in his section. she mostly said it out of jealousy because she knew what he would do.
"you keep saying that, it's gon happen," he replies.
"fuck you."
"when and where, sierra?" he says, his voice so serious that she hesitates for a second, her mind wandering to all the times he had her screaming—on the bed, a table, a counter. anywhere. everywhere.
