I get home to Ma sleeping in the large white living room couch with the TV still on and Honey Barbecue chips sprawled out on the floor. Another album signing in West Hollywood, my album was now Gold. The happiness of it all subsides quicker when I have so little people to share it with. I wiggle out of my heals and throw them to the side, making a loud clanking sound as it hit the floor. Ma shudders and her eyes open. I stand there frozen.

"Sorry." I apologize softly.

"Okay baby, go get some sleep. Big day tomorrow." She croaks.

But everyday has been a big day, with no one to share it with.

I pull my phone from my purse and run upstairs after seeing a missed call from Trevon. I call back immediately and the phone rings out. I haven't spoken to him since his show and every time I text him, he responds hours later with an excuse of getting held up in the studio with Flex. But he never calls back. Days have passed and I still haven't heard his voice.

I click call again and sit on my carpet. My back against my bed. I pull my knees to my chest. With every unanswered ring, I feel my heart beginning to break. What was going on? How had it become so easy for him not to get back to me? How had I gone from having three good friends to having just one and a boyfriend ignoring me, miles away? I haven't heard from Pookie in months but Trish says he was at Trev's show. He changed his number because his cellphone says disconnected every time I call. I feel alone. I feel like all this music has done is separated me from people who matter.

I can't even confide the lyrics to a song without it getting back to me on a radio interview. I throw my phone across the room and it hits the door and falls on the plush carpet. I feel the sea of sadness begin to surround me, it battles with anger and a bit of self doubt. Suddenly, the image of a bodacious girl makes her way into my vision. I imagine her sashaying over to him after his show, with eyes like a beautiful witch. Drunk with both liquor and lust, he gives in.

Trevon would never do that. He loves me. He would never disrespect me like that.

He's a man. What's love got to do with it?

Yea, but he would never give in. I reply to the evil voice in my head.

You gave in. She snaps back.

She silences me quickly. I lay my head back, my covers tickling the back of my neck. I want to cry but it requires too much and today was a long day. I already gave whatever I had in me to my fans and the parasite that is music.

I begin to doze off on the floor when my phone begins vibrating, what seems to be miles away. I crawl to it quickly and turn it over to a small horizontal crack. The crack doesn't matter when Trevon's name is printed on top of the screen. I answer as quickly I can, afraid that in an instant I will miss the time he's finally found for me.

"Hello." I say, my voice croaks.

"Hey." His voice sounds cold. "Did I wake you?" He asks but there is no care in his questions. No trace of empathy.

"No. Where have you been? I've been calling you nonstop for the past four days." I try not to sound badgering.

I hear him sigh.

"Been hearing niggas talking about how much they love you on the radio." He replies with distaste. "Been hearing that you're single-"

"I can't control what men say on the radio and you said we had to keep us secret, didn't you Trev?" I am immediately awake and upset.

"But I been hearin that they not just talking. I've been hearing about things happening while I was in jail, been hearing about different people, different nights." His words are slow and they come at me like quick poison.

My breathing stops and my heart beats into my throat.

"What are you talking about?" I say after a few moments of silence.

"You don't know what I'm talking about, Chanel?" His voice is calm. Too calm.

"No, I don"t." I speak into the phone quietly.

"You know, people been telling me things and I chose not to believe them. Not to think that you could be so selfish and manipulating. Having me think of you day and night, just waiting for that day I get out that shithole prison. But you had a ball when I was in." He laughs loudly and I feel my heart disconnect into halves in my chest.

"What are you talking abo-" I begin.

"Did you fuck anyone while I was in?" He asks cold.

I can no longer see, it's as if the blood rushing to my head momentarily blinds me.

"I didn't-"

"Don't lie to me, Chanel." He says quietly.

"I didn't-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME." He screams into the phone.

There's no way he could have found out, no one knew except Trisha and... Pookie. Pookie told him. He had to have told him. But Pookie didn't know I had sex with Devin and he couldn't be sure I did with Bizzy. I flashback to the night in the bar. Pookie's face when I came back to the bathroom. Would he really do something like that?

"I talk to you later." Trevon says.

"Wait. Please. I haven't gotten to talk to you in 4 days Trev, what the fuck."

"Answer the question."

"If you want to believe all the rumors too then you do that! Cause that's just what I need right now. You haven't even checked if I'm okay! I've been depressed as fuck and no one cares!" I scream back as tears collect at the tips of my eyes.

"Chanel, this the last time ima ask you before I completely cut you out my life." His voice has lost all emotions. Like I've killed him. And suddenly I feel like I have.

The line is quiet.

"Did you fuck anyone while I was in jail?" The words are slow and each of them break a different part of my soul. I suddenly feel undeserving of anything or anyone at all.

"Chanel." He calls on the other end.

"Yes, I did." I finally say.

I don't hear anything after that. Not even his breathing. He remains on the line. I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to remember that I'm not the one who deserves to be crying. I want to call his name but words are stuck in my throat. My tongue is buried beneath sin and betrayal. The one man that stayed down for me, the one man that has given up so much for me, this is who I chose to hurt.

"Okay." Trevon says after what seems like a decade has passed. I don't know how to take it. I have heard the word "okay" a million times in my life, and somehow I suddenly don't know what it means. Suddenly it has no meaning.

Suddenly it has all the meaning I need.

I move the phone away from my mouth and sniffle and bawl silently to myself.

Why is he still on the phone? What was going through Trevon's head.

"How many people did you have sex with?" His voice is so distant that already I fear answering. I fear what it will do to him and I fear what I will think of myself once it's out into the open.

"Uhm, two." I admit, honest.

It is quiet again. I wipe my nose on the expensive dress that was given to me as a gift. I soil it with lipstick and dripping mascara. I am suddenly afraid to look in the mirror, and not because my make up was running, not because of anything dealing with my appearances.

"Who were they?" He continues.

I bite my bottom lip so hard that I have something else to cry about, something less painful. I try to control my breathing. I try to tell the truth but maybe the truth will just end my relationship faster. I just got him back. I just got my baby back. Please, not now.

Not now, God.

I pray silent.

"Boys from school." I lie.

"And how long ago was that?" He questions, I still don't recognize the person on the phone but I'm glad the line hasn't gone blank yet.

"Before you and I made up. When you were still mad at me." I sniffle and take a deep breath.

"Chanel, I can't do this." Trevon states quietly and solemn.

I breakdown and though I don't wish to sound desperate, I begin to wholeheartedly and sincerely beg. I gasp and heave. I hold the phone to my cheek like my entire life is on the other end.

I beg.

I beg him.

I beg him not to leave me.

I beg him not to leave me like this.

I plead like there is a gun at my head.

"I just got you back. I just got you back Trev, wait please." I know he can't understand every word that I'm saying.

"I just got you back." I repeat. "I don't want anyone else, I'm so sorry."

"How the fuck am I suppose to trust you? How am I suppose to believe that you not gettin with someone the minute i'm not around Chanel? You're ruining us. Again." He screams.

Again.

The word floats around in my head and briefly makes me suicidal.

I'm ruining us again.

He's right.

"I'm not fucking doing this. So look man, take care of yourself. You can fuck whoever you want now." He breathes. "You're free."

"Trev, STOP." I yell.

"Bizzy said wassup." He dismisses.

I freeze as my stomach turns in on itself.

The call ends.