Chapter 31
Milan
“People love polished men until somebody tells the truth about what it took to build them.”
Everybody was posting about Vaughn’s birthday.
Vanessa had already made three different posts.
His little work girlfriend, Sade, had Crown Heights decorated in blue balloons and custom cupcakes from what I saw on Instagram stories.
His boys had him posted in sections at the strip club with bottles.
Women, all in the comments, thirsting for him like he was some prize.
Meanwhile, I was sitting in a condo that I was about to get evicted from.
Crazy.
Four years with Vaughn St. Clair just to get replaced by a damn interior designer with a soft voice, a tummy tuck, and “good morals.”
I poured more tequila in my glass and kept scrolling.
Black excellence. Real estate king. Good man. Boss.
I laughed hard as hell.
These people ain’t know that nigga.
Didn’t know what he looked like after being up for three days straight.
Didn’t know how many women he needed around him just to keep his mind busy.
They damn sure ain’t know how obsessed he got once something settled in his head.
I looked at the live button on Instagram for a second before clicking it.
Fuck it.
People started joining immediately.
The comments moved fast.
Where you been? You still with V Saint? You look pretty.
I leaned back on the couch with my drink in my hand and smiled at the camera.
“I know y’all probably confused why I’m on here,” I said casually. “I’m just bored, though.”
The comments kept moving.
One person asked if I was going to Vaughn’s birthday party at Club Gemini.
I laughed.
“That man don’t even like birthdays. Y’all celebrating somebody that probably wanna be left alone right now.”
That got people talking immediately.
I took another sip of tequila.
“Ain’t it funny how people make rich niggas seem healed just because they got money?”
More comments.
What happened? You being messy.
“I’m not being messy. I’m being honest. Everybody keep posting this polished businessman version of Vaughn. Y’all don’t know the infamous street nigga, V-Saint.”
I looked down at my nails before speaking again.
“That nigga used to do lines in his father’s penthouse bathrooms before meetings and go discuss business for hours.”
Comments exploded immediately.
She lying. No way. Coke??? Screen record this.
I laughed.
“See? That’s what I’m saying. Y’all don’t know him. Y’all know the version he sells.”
The views started climbing faster.
“He don’t sleep. He distracts himself. Women. Weed. Work. Money. Cars. Whatever keeps his mind busy.”
Somebody commented: You sound bitter.
I smirked.
“Bitter? Baby, I survived him.”
That made the comments go crazier.
I set my drink down and leaned closer toward the camera.
“Y’all calling him husband material, meanwhile, that nigga been obsessing over the same girl for years.”
The comments damn near stopped for a second.
Who???
Who???
Tea.
Wait what?
I laughed again.
“A certain little virgin interior designer got that man losing his fuckin mind. You can see her hugging him on his Instagram story.”
I picked my drink back up while the comments exploded.
People started guessing immediately.
Some right. Some wrong.
“He watching her. Tracking her. Saving pictures. Searching her socials. All type of weird shit.”
One comment said: This sounds fake.
I shrugged.
“I wish it were fake.”
The views jumped again.
I grabbed my other phone beside me and held up blurry screenshots toward the live. Enough for people to see names and photos without seeing all the details.
“I’m just saying… watch how he move around her. That ain’t regular.”
My phone started buzzing with the live going on.
It was Vaughn.
I looked at the screen and laughed.
“Oh, speaking of the devil.”
The comments went insane.
Answer it. Answer. OMG.
I declined the call.
“He’s probably somewhere punching walls right now.”
Another call came immediately after.
I declined that one too.
One comment asked: So why y’all broke up?
I stared at the camera for a second before answering.
“‘Cause eventually you get tired of babysitting somebody who refuses to fix themselves.”
I finished the rest of my tequila and stood up, adjusting my robe.
“A’ight, I’m done talking now. Y’all enjoy the rest of y’all night.”
Before ending the live, I smiled into the camera.
“Oh… and happy birthday, V-Saint.”