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Yall gonna speak?🫣

My bad I keep leaving yall in the dust😭

ᴀᴜʙʀᴇʏ 'ᴅʀᴀᴋᴇ' ɢʀᴀʜᴀᴍ

I sat in my bed, leaning back against the headboard, staring at the TV

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I sat in my bed, leaning back against the headboard, staring at the TV. ESPN was still buzzing about the fight, dissecting every moment and analyzing every mistake. The commentators were all saying the same shit-I'm washed, too old for this shit. It was hard to ignore, especially after losing my first fight.

But what really fucked with me was the ankle. If that shit had been right, I wouldn't have been in this position.

Also, turns out my ankle was broken. I didn't even know until after the fight.

I grabbed the remote, turning the TV off, and threw it. I laid down, resting my arm behind my head, staring at the ceiling, just letting everything sink in. I heard my door creak open, but I didn't bother looking up.

"God damn, it fucking stinks in here," Ant's voice rang out, cutting through the silence.

"On God," Chubbs added, and I leaned up slightly, watching them wave their hands in the air. "This is bad."

"Man, what do y'all want bruh?" I said, trying to avoid them, not wanting to deal with anything right now.

"We want you to clean this room up, shit," Ant said, walking further into my room, taking in the mess. "This is disgusting, Aubrey. You ain't never lived like this."

"Y'all could get out, for real," I grumbled, pulling the covers up over my body to try and block them out, but Chubbs wasn't having it. He immediately ripped the covers off.

"I hope you know Onika and Omari just literally got on the plane back to New York because you've been acting an ass to her," Chubbs said, his tone serious now.

My jaw clenched, and I could feel the anger rising in my chest. She didn't even tell me she was leaving.

Didn't even let me say goodbye to her or Omari.

I grabbed my phone off the dresser quickly, unlocking it, and started typing out a long-ass message.

Me: You don't care about me. If you did, you would've stayed. You just up and went. I don't know what the fuck to think anymore.

I stared at the phone for a few seconds, my mind racing. I couldn't just leave it like that. I needed to let her know how hurt I was, how I felt like she was just abandoning me when I needed her most.

I picked the phone back up and started typing more, the words coming out without me even thinking about it.

Me: Don't even care enough to check in on me, huh? You just left like it was nothing. I'm out here dealing with all this shit, and you dip. That's real fucked up.

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