I kid y'all not...I listened to the sped up version of this song on loop for like thirty minutes and now here we are. I'm trying something a little different with my writing style here but I hope y'all like it. I almost used Kehlani for this one but 070 Shake is her ex so I couldn't do her dirty lmao.
Also this is a lot shorter than I normally go for (usually around 10,000 words per part but listennn, I'm just trying to make my official comeback)
Justine's POV
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I'm straddling her lap on the couch in this hotel room with our lips lustfully pressed together. I can't help but wonder how many other people had done this exact same provocative act on this very same couch as my diamond necklaces dangle in her face, catching the moonlight through the open curtains. Neither of us had made any moves to close them upon entering the room because, let's face it, with the state we were in and what we had experienced in the last twenty-four hours, neither of us had any shame or regard for the world around us. The world that had led us to this potentially dangerous act.
But here's a little context of how we ended up here if you care to listen.
• • •
I found myself in a shit position. Last night the man I love sat me down at a table in a fancy restaurant with roses and small tealight candles on the table. He had me in my best dress, best makeup, and all around best mood, just to tell me that he was cheating on me and that it was over. Dumb decision.
If anything, I should've been the one leaving him, not the other way around. I couldn't fathom how he thought it was right to cheat on me and then reveal his infidelity and steal the decision of what would happen next from me. I wanted to self destruct, but I knew I couldn't, so I let some friends talk me into other ways to heal my wounds.
My closest friends suggested I go talk to someone, like a therapist, considering my comfortable and outwardly stable life had just experienced a mass upheaval. But I couldn't do that. I thought about what would even be said in the session. The therapist sitting there with a notebook open to the next blank page, with an ink pen in hand, ready to write down all my shortcomings and traumas. With the ultimate question from them being 'What do you want from this? From me?' My mind flew through the answers. Anything please. Mercy for who I'm scared I'll become. A way to stop feeling the pain.
But I couldn't put myself through that. So, I opted for a cheaper option. I found myself out on the town with some friends, on a simple mission. To go to the club and forget everything. I just couldn't handle the feeling of my heart ripping to pieces, and the only way to distract myself from that pain was to feel nothing at all, and what better way to do that than get drunk?
We entered the club and I immediately felt the hungry eyes of a bunch of men on me, but I was looking for something different tonight. Though I couldn't be surprised that my little black dress and six inch heels garnered this much attention.
