Blinded

Chapter 12

KAYLA POV

I wakeup to the sun hitting my face and my phone buzzing like it's got beef. Notifications stacked—DMs, likes, replies—and right at the top, Clarence liked that pic from last night. The one I definitely didn't tag him in. Typical.

I stretch, bonnet sliding halfway off my head, curls doing whatever they want. Honestly, mood.

Sliding out of bed, I catch my reflection in the mirror—oversized tee hanging off one shoulder, black booty shorts hugging just right. I throw my bonnet on the counter and shake my hair out, curls tumbling everywhere.

I smirk and grab my phone.

Go Live?

Why not.

I adjust the camera angle, flipping a few curls over my shoulder and hit "Start Live."

"Morning y'all," I say, voice still raspy. "Don't judge the look—I'm cute, just crusty."

The comments light up fast.

"We love a cozy queen 😍"
"Booty shorts putting in work already lmaoo"
"Drop the routine pls 🧴✨"
"Is that Clarence in the chat?? 👀"
I spritz my hair and start raking leave-in through it. "Y'all need to behave. I came here to refresh my curls, not get dragged about my shorts."

The numbers climb and sure enough, Clarence drops in.

@clarence_c_: So you just gon' wake up like this? That's crazy.

I blink, then raise my brows. "Now who let Clarence in here acting bold?"

The comments eat it up.

"He lowkey obsessed"
"He watching HARD"
"Y'all together?? 👀"
I laugh, flipping my curls again. "Nah, Clarence just talk smooth. But trust... I'm not falling for no lines."

I pause, the smile lingering, but there's this tug in my chest.

"I've been the girl that got played before," I say, still working through a section. "Pretty or not. Loyal or not. It don't matter if a man don't know what to do with you."

The comments slow a little. Someone types:

"Say it louder 💔"
"Been there. Still healing."

The curls start to fluff up real cute, the kind of soft that says effortless even when it wasn't. I swipe on a little gloss—nothing heavy—and fluff one last section before I end the Live.

"Alright y'all, I'm out. Stay cute, stay hydrated, and mind y'all business... unless it's mine."

The stream ends. I stare at my reflection.

Hair: laid. Face: no makeup, still fire. Mood: complicated.

My phone buzzes again.

Clarence:
Don't post that fire selfie and not text me too. That's disrespectful.

I smirk but don't reply. Let him wait.

I throw on some slides and grab my purse. Alyssa texted she's downstairs waiting, talking about brunch even though she still recovering from last night.

I head out and slide into her passenger seat, where she's got sunglasses on and an iced coffee in hand like she didn't try to twerk on a countertop six hours ago.

"Girl," she groans, "I'm too pretty to be this hungover."

I laugh, flipping my curls again as I buckle up. "You lucky I love you. I was gonna ignore your whole existence until noon."

She glances over. "Why you look all glowy? You get some?"

I roll my eyes. "No, I just refreshed my curls and argued with strangers on IG Live."