Just us Three | BWBM & POLY

I N T R O .

──∘◦‧✩‧◦∘──
18 Years Ago . . .

Asha sat in the dimly lit office, her small hand tightly clutching Kyrah's. The air was filled with the faint scent of old books and fresh ink, and the sound of a ticking clock echoed softly in the background. Across from them, Mr. and Mrs. Jones sat with reassuring smiles, ready to sign the final adoption papers.

Asha's heart raced as she glanced at the stack of documents on the mahogany desk. She felt a mix of excitement and fear. Would this mean she truly belonged somewhere? Or would it mean letting go of the hope that her biological parents might come back for her?

Kyrah squeezed her hand, her dark brown eyes full of warmth and support. "It's going to be okay, Asha. We're going to be sisters forever."

Asha took a deep breath, her voice barely a whisper. "I just... I don't want to lose my last name. What if... what if they try to find me?"

Mr. Jones leaned forward, his voice gentle and understanding. "We understand, Asha. You can keep your last name. You'll always be a Jennings, and you'll always be a part of our family too."

Mrs. Jones nodded, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Asha's shoulder. "You don't have to choose between the two, sweetie. You can be both."

Asha looked up at Kyrah, tears welling in her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay with that, Kyrah?"Kyrah grinned, her grip on Asha's hand tightening. "Of course, I am. We're best friends, and now we're going to be sisters. Nothing can change that."

Asha's heart swelled with gratitude and love. She turned to the adoption agent, her voice a bit stronger now. "Okay. I want to keep my last name. I want to be Asha Jennings."

The agent smiled warmly and made a note on the paperwork. "Asha Jennings it is." As the final signatures were added and the adoption was officially completed, Asha felt a sense of belonging she had never known before.

She wasn't just Asha Jennings, a foster child waiting to be claimed. She was Asha Jennings, a part of the Jones family, with a best friend turned sister by her side.

Kyrah beamed at her, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. "Welcome to the family, Asha. "Asha squeezed Kyrah's hand, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Thanks, Kyrah. I love you."

"I love you too," Kyrah replied, pulling her into a warm hug. "Forever and always."

──∘◦‧✩‧◦∘──

13 Years Ago . . .

Deonte trudged up the worn steps of his family's small, rundown house, his football gear slung over one shoulder. The smell of fried food and stale smoke greeted him as he entered, a stark contrast to the fresh air of the practice field. He could hear his siblings in the living room, their voices loud and mocking.

"Hey, look who it is!" his older brother Malik sneered, leaning back on the couch with a cigarette dangling from his lips. "Mister All-Star himself."

Deonte ignored him, heading straight for the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. His muscles ached from practice, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional strain he felt every time he came home.

His sister Tee-tee, leaning against the counter with a knowing smirk, blocked his path. "What's the matter, D? Too good for the family business now? Think you're gonna make it big and leave us all behind?"

Deonte clenched his jaw, refusing to rise to the bait. "I'm not interested in that life. You know that."

Malik laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Oh, we know. Mr. Scared straight over here. Thinks he's better than us 'cause he can run a ball around."

"Yeah," Tee-tee chimed in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You think those coaches care about you? You just a way to win games."

Deonte's grip tightened around the water bottle, his knuckles turning white. "I don't give a damn about what y'all think. I'm doing something different with my life."

Malik stood up, his tall frame towering over Deonte. "Different, huh? You mean you're just gonna run away? Leave us to deal with everything while you chase some pipe dream?"

Deonte met his brother's gaze, his eyes burning with determination. "I'm not running away. I'm trying to make something of myself. Something that doesn't involve dealing drugs or looking over my shoulder every day."

Tee-tee rolled her eyes. "Good luck with that. You'll come crawling back when you realize the world doesn't care about some poor nigga from tha hood."

Deonte shook his head, pushing past them to his room. "Maybe. But at least I'll know I tried."

As he closed the door behind him, he let out a long breath, feeling the weight of their words settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but he was determined to prove them wrong.

Football was his way out, his chance to escape the cycle of crime and violence that had trapped his family.

He glanced at the framed picture on his nightstand—his team photo from last season—and felt a surge of hope. No matter how hard things got, he had a dream worth fighting for. And he wasn't going to let anyone take that away from him.

──∘◦‧✩‧◦∘──

Two Months Ago . . .

Levi found himself in a nightmare scenario that could have ruined his career. Fresh off his championship win and break up with Gabby, he decided to celebrate with a quiet dinner at an upscale restaurant. Little did he know, the groupies who cornered him had other plans.

Levi was midway through his meal when the groupies approached, their intentions masked by flirtatious smiles. They crowded his table, their cameras flashing as they tried to capture incriminating photos.

"Hey, Levi, how about you have a drink with us," the blonde one urged, leaning in far too close. Levi's discomfort was palpable. "Nah, I'm good thanks," he replied.

The brunette groupie, more persistent, added, "Aww don't be like that. We just want to have a good time!" she begged.

Levi scanned the room, his anxiety rising. The atmosphere grew tense, and it felt like the walls were closing in. The groupies started to make a scene, raising their voices and drawing attention from other diners. This is why I don't fuckin' play in the snow. Damn.

"Can y'all leave?" Levi asked. "What's the matter? We're not good enough for you?" The blonde responded.

But the situation escalated quickly. One of the groupies pretended to stumble, attempting to fall into Levi's lap. And the other snapped photos, trying to capture a compromising angle. Levi stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back.

"Aight, get the fuck up offa me," he said, his voice firm, pushing her off of him.

At that moment, the restaurant manager intervened, bringing security with him. "Is there a problem here?" he asked, his eyes narrowing at the groupies.

"They're leaving," Levi replied, trying to keep his composure. The groupies were escorted out, but not without hurling threats and accusations. The scene was chaotic, and Levi's heart pounded as he watched them go. He knew the tabloids would have a field day with this and he was more than pissed about it.

The following days were a blur of anxiety and fear. Rumors swirled, but the restaurant's surveillance cameras revealed the truth. The footage showed the groupies' aggressive behavior and Levi's attempts to defuse the situation, saving him from a scandal that could have been catastrophic.

After hearing about Lebeau on social media, he decided to go there for a visit and met the owner, Ace Lebeau. 
In exchange for a hefty donation to Ace's town, Ace invited him to move in during his off season lay low and assured Levi that his residents would respect him and his privacy.

Levi understood that his fame came with risks, but for now, he embraced the quiet and peace of Lebeau, knowing it was the best way to maintain his serenity until the season started again.

∘◦‧✩‧◦∘

-xoxo DigitalFleaux