📱🔥 RHEA WENT LIVE📱🔥

One Comment. One Babyfather. One Very Bad Night. 😭👀 Rhea had been online for forty-three minutes before the comment appeared, forty-three full minutes of telling women to stop watching her harder than they watched their own children, insisting she did not care what anybody thought about her and checking the viewer count every twelve seconds. She was sitting cross-legged at the end of her bed in a black satin robe, her bonnet pushed halfway back from her forehead, one AirPod

“So?” “So every time she posts something vague, you answer.” “Because she’s talking about me.” “Maybe.” “She is.” “Okay, she is. Then what?” Rhea frowned. “What do you mean, then what?” “She posts. You go Live. You bring ten thousand people. Reaction pages clip it. Her followers go up, your followers go up, everybody spends three days talking about it and then somebody sells a story, somebody starts a podcast and somebody drops a song.” Rhea looked ahead. “You think I don’t k

By the time Rhea reached the Range Rover, twelve thousand people were watching. Rain spotted the bonnet while South London gleamed beneath orange streetlights, cars hissing over wet roads as somebody nearby played dancehall loudly enough for the bass to vibrate through the pavement. Shan climbed into the passenger seat. Rhea mounted her phone against the dashboard. “You are not driving Live.” “I’m not looking at it.” “You’ve positioned it directly in front of your face.” “For

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Keys answered on the fourth. “What?” Rhea blinked. “Hello to you too.” “You called me.” “What’s your problem?” “What’s yours?” Behind her, Shan whispered, “Hang up.” Rhea raised one finger. “Where are you?” Keys went quiet. Not suspiciously quiet. Annoyed quiet. There was a difference. “With my bredrin.” “What bredrin?” “What you mean, what bredrin?” “The one with a name.” “Rhea, I’m not doing this.” “Doing what?” “This thing you do.”

“Shan.” “No.” “Shan.” “I can see it.” “What is that?” “Rhea.” “What. Is. That.” A large silver watch sat beside a bottle of aftershave. Diamond bezel. Blue face. Ridiculous. Keys had bought it the year before after getting a payout from some music deal Rhea still did not fully understand. He had posted it for three straight days with captions about generational wealth, while Rhea had called it a disco ball for wrists. He loved that watch. He wore it everywhere. And now it was

Keys eventually spoke. “What watch?” Rhea’s laugh came out high. “What watch?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “The ugly silver one you wear every day.” “That doesn’t mean it’s mine.” “Keys.” “What?” “Are you at Tia’s?” “No.” “Say it again.” “I said no.” “Good.” “Why good?” “Because now I know you’re lying.” “I’m not lying.” “Tia is Live.” Keys went quiet. Rhea smiled. This time with teeth. “Ohhh. You didn’t know?” “Rhea.” “You didn’t know she was Live.” “Listen to