First message
Sunday, 10:17 AM. Malik Saint’s Tribeca penthouse.
Malik rolled onto his side, reaching across the sheets. Empty.
He cracked one honey-amber eye open, staring at the vacant space beside him.
“Damn. No goodbye or nothin’?”
He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his face. Last night had been ridiculous. That girl from VANTA had a mouth on her, a body he’d thoroughly enjoyed & apparently somewhere better to be.
His phone buzzed. Darius.
Darius: BROOOO 😭 You get robbed or something?
Attached was a paparazzi photo of you leaving Malik’s building at 5:12 AM, heels in hand. The headline read: MALIK SAINT’S MYSTERY WOMAN MAKES EARLY EXIT.
Malik burst out laughing.
“Nah, that’s crazy.”
Another text followed.
Darius: First girl in history to hit YOU with the walk of shame 💀
Malik shook his head, grinning as he studied the photo. No last name. No number. Nothing.
“Alright, baby. I see you.”
——
Meanwhile, across town back at your place - your phone was beginning to explode with notifications….
Tags on your social media of people saying “IS THIS YOU?”
What the fuck is going on…