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Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

I glanced down at my vibrating phone and decided to shut it off. I was trying to be lazy and relax in peace. My publicist Hurbert constantly calling was fucking that up, and I wasn’t in the mood for any of his nagging today. I sighed when silence filled the room again.

“Perfect.” Leaning forward, I snatched a slice of pizza from the Stoner’s box on my coffee table. “Let’s play ball.”

It was hours later when I heard feet shuffling across the floor.

“Man, yo’ ass in here playing games like shit ain’t hitting the fan right now.”

I glanced up at Jah as he came to plop down beside me.

“Fuck you talking about, bitch ass boy?” I pushed him to the side with a chuckle for emphasis.

He sat up with a bewildered look. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” I asked, tossing a quick glance his way before returning my focus to my game.

It was the fourth quarter with minutes left on the clock. My opponent only needed a few shots to win the game.

Jah sighed. “Bro, Breeland did one of those tell-all interviews with Jaded. All your family’s business is floating around the internet.”

Only then did I stop what I was doing. Turning to him, I deadpanned, “Say word.”

He shook his head. “Check your phone, nigga. You’ll see how real it is.”

I abandoned the game to do just that. It took a minute for my phone to power on then pick up a steady signal, but the second it did, the notifications started to flood in without pause.

Sure enough, Bree had done what she swore she never would.

Having been my on and off again girlfriend for years, she knew more about my family than anyone else.

To know she’d betray my trust for a minute of fame fucked with me.

I tried to prepare myself before clicking on the video, but it didn’t work. The moment I heard her speaking about the time we’d walked in on my father participating in an orgy, I shot to my feet.

“Fuck. I don’t need this shit right now.”

“You’re damn right you don’t,” my manager Deborah’s voice shouted from behind me.

I spun around to find her standing in the kitchen fuming while Hurbert was off to the side taking a phone call.

She slammed her purse on the counter, looking like she’d lay me across her knee if she could.

We were the same age, so I’d definitely hit that, but that old ass name was a turn off.

She was also too aggressive for my liking.

“How could you let this happen, Kianis?”

“Fuck you mean? It’s not like I told the bitch to air all my shit out.”

Deborah was little but mighty. I prepared myself as she marched over to me.

“You could’ve had her sign an NDA or something.”

I ran a hand down my face, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.

I just wanted to play ball, but apparently, I couldn’t do that without having the world always invested in my personal life for entertainment.

Every new scandal invalidated the things I was doing on the court.

No matter how well I played, it felt like my success was always overshadowed by my parents.

“What can we do to fix it?” I asked after a while.

Deborah palmed her forehead. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m at a loss right now.” She shook her head slowly. “Let me think on it.”

I wanted to call Breeland and curse her ass out, but that was what she wanted. She never had to worry about me fucking with her again. This was the final straw for me.

Hurbert ended his phone call and walked closer. “That was the owners in regards to the fight at the game last night.”

I’d successfully forgotten all about it during my day, but now, the anger was back. I swiped my nose to bring myself back into the present and crossed my arms over my chest. Jah came around the couch to stand beside me.

Deborah tossed her arms in the air. “Right… What the hell was that? You’re going to give me an early heart attack.”

“That fat ass should’ve never put his hands on my mama or got to running his mouth.”

Hurbert shifted uncomfortably and pulled at the collar of his shirt. Glancing over at the sheen of sweat on his forehead, I said, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to get on your fat ass next.”

Deborah’s mouth fell open. “You need to do something about that mouth of yours. What’d they say, Hurbert?”

I mean, even though the nigga was big as hell, women still loved him.

“That the fight wasn’t his fault. Using obscenities and insults is not a reason for someone to put their hands on you.”

I smiled. “See? Someone has some sense.”

I felt a little better knowing I wouldn’t be further penalized for that shit, but if I ever saw that nigga again, that would be another story.

@mrmostlikelytowin: I like this color on you.

Without remorse or shame, I sent Charmony’s most recent photos to her inbox with my compliment attached.

For the last week, I’d been consistently dropping hints of my interest, and she wasn’t going for any of it.

Instead of discouraging me, it only motivated me to go harder and apply more pressure.

I knew without a doubt that she’d be mine one day soon.

I glanced up as Deborah walked up to me slurping down one of those green-looking coffee drinks people were currently obsessed with.

“Damn, you going to suck the straw down your throat, too, if you don’t relax.”

She flipped me off with a frown. “Please shut up. I’m still not talking to you.”

I shrugged. “You will at some point. I sign your checks.”

She sighed. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I’m still thinking on a plan to refute all this social media backlash. We can’t have brands thinking you’re no longer an investment.”

I waved a hand. “If anyone wants to drop me because of this shit, then let them. My parents conniving and trifflin’ ways don’t have shit to do with the way I play ball. Why can’t it be all about that?”

I asked the question already, knowing what response she’d give me.

“In a picture-perfect world, things would work that way, but in this one, it’s complicated.

With your father’s failed career hanging over your head, you already have had to work twice as hard as others to be respected.

Unfortunately, sometimes we are drowned by our parents’ shadows, and you don’t make it any better with the way you behave. ”

@americassweethart:

@americassweethart: You just don’t quit!

I chuckled softly, expecting nothing less from her at this point.

@mrmostlikelytowin: lol keep on. Damn eyes going to get stuck in the back of that big head of yours.

@mrmostlikelytowin: I can’t win if I quit

@americassweethart: Whatever. You like this big head!

@mrmostlikelytowin: And do so when you going to let me take you out?

@americassweethart: And that’s where you lost me. I already told you it’s not happening.

@mrmostlikelytowin: We’ll see about that baby girl

“You’re not even listening to me,” Deborah fussed when I lowered my phone.

I didn’t even deny it. “You got any other manager friends?”

She tossed her drink in the trash then sat up in her seat. Tucking her hands under her chin, she gave me her undivided attention.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think you can find out who manages Charmony Hart?”

She raised an eyebrow. “The influencer?”

I nodded with a grin. “Yeah… her.”

“Ugh, why?”

I pocketed my phone and shot to my feet. “You asking too many questions. Can you find out or not?”

She softly drummed her fingers on top of her desk, then sighed. “I guess. Don’t go trying to ruin that girl’s life.”

“Nah, I’ma make that shit better. Anyways, I’m heading out for practice. Get me that info ASAP.”

I ignored all her warnings as I turned to leave.

Despite all she had to say, my phone pinged with the information by the time I slid in the driver’s seat of my G-Wagon.

Charmony thought her resistance would turn me away, but she had another thing coming.

She was mine, and no one could tell me otherwise. Not even her.