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“I know…” I trail off. “We’ll see each other this weekend.”

He’s coming into town with the Emperors to play against the Orioles in their home opener.”

“I’m staying with you.”

Cold flashes over my stomach.

Staying with me? God no. Dread begins to spread through me.

“My house is not ready yet. I’m starting a renovation soon, and it wouldn’t be as comfortable as a hotel. You’re used to luxury, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Luxxy, you forget I used to be poor. It would be like traveling back in time. I just want to spend time with you. I’ll still have the team hotel room, but I’ll stay with you—unless there’s a reason I shouldn’t.”

My stomach feels like lead, and I’m going to be sick. I just know it. Fuck my life. I need to either breakup with him or stop running.

“Fine. I’ll see you on Friday.”

Chickenshit.

He chuckles. “It will be sooner than that. We’re getting in on Thursday morning.”

I almost swerve at full speed into the school parking lot.

“Thursday,” I choke out.

“Yeah. We have to do press in the afternoon, but we can spend all morning together. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I’m picking up Felix, and I’m already at the school. We’ll talk some more later.”

I don’t give myself time to think, or I’ll go into a panic attack. Instead, I head inside and straight to the nurse’s office.

Felix leaps out of his chair when he sees me and rushes to hug me.

“Titi Lux, my tummy aches.”

I hug him back. “Mine too, baby. Let’s go home.”

Except, his tummy ache will go away… Mine will be here through the weekend.

2

Lux

Friday

Social media is a snake you raise with all the love, care, and attention in the world, but then it turns on you one day out of nowhere. Even those who follow and adore you are quick to cut you down. It happens so fast that it has a whiplash effect.

And I’m still reeling so bad even the softness of my Mohair velvet couch pisses me off. I push to my feet, pelting it with my glare. The peachy-pink vintage fabric with the gold-painted wood and tufted back is now as offensive to me as my Twitter feed.

I started my morning with a reel, a short video, to my ten million followers about the yoga position that helped me loosen my hips for the best sleep. It was some of my best work, shot in front of my antique gold mirror—the perfect complement to my couch. My makeup was flawless in that full beat that looks so natural it makes people ask you for your skin regimen. The telltale was the black eyeliner that contrasted against my tanned skin and framed my green eyes. I lowered myself to the floor in my seafoam ribbed jumpsuit. I was so happy with the way it framed my D-girls and showcased my round ass built on a squat regimen. I looked the fuck good. As I pulled my long hair into a high ponytail and pursed my glossy lips, I knew it would go viral. I never suspected it would be for all the wrong reasons.

Two hours later, my innocent video has become fodder for everyone to put me down, along with my relationship. Well, if I’m honest, the video didn’t do it alone. You’ve got to have a cheating asshole of a boyfriend who can’t keep his dick in his pants for five minutes and an idiot who keeps taking him back—me—to accomplish that.

The Poor Luxxy hashtag was just the beginning. The viral takedown has been nothing short of epic, using my video to feed comments and puns.

Maybe instead of reclining hero pose to sleep better, she should be working on her plow pose. Maybe that will keep Mateo from jumping in beds with raggedy hoes. #JustSayin #PoorLuxxy

She goes to the spa, wears posh clothing, and has ten million followers. But does it really matter when her man is slinging his peen on any #mid-influencer with less than 1,000 followers? #SorryButTrue #PoorLuxxy