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So, I’m chattin’ up this one—gorgeous, the best, hair like gold, legs for days. She’s talkin’ prices, I’m like, “Honey, Trump don’t haggle, I’m the king of deals.” She laughs, I’m happy, feelin’ great—best mood ever. “Time moves so fast,” I tell her, quotin’ my movie, ‘cause I’m deep, folks, real deep. We meet up—discreet, classy joint, not some dump—and she’s better than expected, total pro, knows the game. Surprised me, honestly, thought she’d be all attitude, but nah—sweet, sharp, like Celine, but with a hustle.

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So, I bought a pack and munched on those sweet strawberries. Best decision ever! I was on cloud nine. But then, I saw my ex. Ugh, talk about a mood killer. She was with some dude, and they looked all lovey-dovey. I felt a mix of anger and sadness. Like, why do I even care? I’m over it, right? But still, it stung.

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