The Fall Up

“Laugh it up, Designer Shoes. I was only holding my phone because I was reporting a video montage on YouTube of you tripping and falling.”


She groaned. “Oh, God. Please tell me you’re lying.”

“Nope.” I popped the P at the end. “User HenryisMine7765 set it to a lovely remix of Henry’s song ‘Goodbye, Lover.’”

“Great,” she huffed. “So many of his fans think I’m their competition. You have no idea how many of those videos there are out there.”

“Ohhhh, after the last few hours, I have a pretty good idea. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. I reported all of them,” I stated proudly.

“You’re too good to me,” she whispered teasingly in a tone that made me miss her that much more.

“Nah. I’m not that great. I watched them all first.” I put the cigarette out and headed back inside, ready to sink into my bed and keep Levee for whatever time she was willing to give me.

“Well, I forgive you.”

“Good, because some of them, I watched twice,” I admitted. Then I quickly amended, “But it was only because I liked the way your boobs bounced when you jumped back up.”

She laughed, and it forced a smile to my face.

“I guess I can’t be mad about that now, can I? So, how did you end up watching YouTube videos of me?”

“It started earlier when, against my better judgment, I looked up pictures of you with Thomas Reigns. I have to say I’m feeling a little inadequate now.”

“Oh, whatever. Your cock is way bigger than his.”

“Aaaannnnd…now I feel better. Thank you.”

She laughed again, and as I crawled into bed, I closed my eyes and got lost in the musical sound.

“It must be nice to be able to look up everything you want to know about me. I want to be able to search your past.”

“All right. Let’s level out the playing field. If there were a computer in front of you right now, what would you type into the search bar?”

“Ummm, I don’t know. When was your last relationship?”

“We broke up about two months ago, but we hadn’t really been together since Anne died. She’s a nice enough girl, even though my mom called her a bitch today.” I chuckled at the memory.

“What?” she half gasped, half laughed.

“Yeah, so, apparently, Meg called and told Mom we were dating. She stopped by for an interrogation.”

“Oh shit. Did you tell her the truth?”

“Uhhh…” I mumbled, trying to buy myself some more time. “She’s my mom, Levee. I swear she won’t tell anyone.”

Hesitance colored her voice, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. “Well, what did she say about us seeing each other?”

“Nothing really. She’s cool with it. Oh! She made me promise to ask if you know Lionel Richie.”

“Actually, I kinda do. I did a collaboration with him at an awards show a couple years ago.”

“Okay, well, I’m going to lie and tell her you don’t.”

“Why? I know his agent. I could probably get him to sign some stuff for her.”

“Because my mother is an incredible woman and mom, but when it comes to Lionel, she loses her ever-loving mind. You do not want to be the only person standing between her and that man.”

“Shut up. Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am. When you get back, I’ll have her break out the photo album. I was Lionel for Halloween every year until I was six. I’m pretty sure she would have named me after him if my dad hadn’t stopped her.”

“Oh. My. God. I need those pictures. ASAP.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Now, what else do you want to know?” I sucked a deep breath in through my teeth, anxiously awaiting her next question.

“Are you smoking?”

“No. I’m in bed, actually.”

“Is it too soon for me to ask you to quit?”

“Too soon to ask? No. Too soon to expect me to follow through? Yes. But you’ll be happy to know my mom also chewed my ass out today and made me swear that I’d quit.”

“I’m gonna need your mom’s address,” she rushed out excitedly.

“For what?”

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