Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
After glancing at my loft one last time I turned back around and shut the door.
I couldn't put this shit off any longer, fuck being scared, fuck all that extra shit.
I needed my shorty back.
With all that being said, as embarrassing as it might sound, I was finally going to rehab. I hated that damn word, shit made me feel like a damn dope head.
It is what is though, I got myself in this situation—now I gotta get myself out. With the help of a certain french boy though.
Yesterday after I spoke with August I finally called Nyjel to accept his help. He explained to me that he'd been through all this before, so instead of being hardheaded like I usually was—I was gonna go through with it.
I still had a couple hours before I had to meet him at the airport though, so that gave me time to handle everything I needed to handle before leaving.
After I stepped into the chauffeur truck I sat back comfortably before speaking.
"where to sir?" My driver asked.
"type this in," I replied, showing himAugusts address so he could put it in the gps.
I'd had the damn address since Aug moved in, I mean he never stopped sharing his location with me so I really could've popped up whenever I wanted. Still—I knew that was never the best option.
My driver nodded and turned on the truck to begin traveling while I sat back in my chair.
The entire drive to Augs apartment building I contemplated nervously what I was gonna say, how he would react, just a bunch of shit. Only reason I realized we'd made it was because the car came to a complete stop.
"Do you need help with your items sir?" My driver questioned, watching as I grabbed everything.
"Nah I got it, 'preciate it—imma be out in a lil, it shouldn't take long." I told him before closing the door and walking.
The only problem I had ran into when I planned all this was figuring out which apartment was actually Augusts. Thankfully though—I was able to make a couple calls. Now I'll admit that is a bit of an invasion of privacy but to the entire world we were still together, and I only did it because I wanted to say my piece before I left.
Once I came to a stop outside his door I took a deep breath and knocked.
About 15 seconds passed before the door opened and August stepped into view.
Like I expected, his expression looked confused so I spoke.
"before you cuss me out—I'm sorry for poppin' up like this—I jus'....I jus' needed to see you." I explained lowly.
He looked at me in question then responded, "are you ok?"
