“I know, and after reading this, you know he’s down to hook up with his fans. We should shoot our shot and see if we can both bag him. You interested in a threesome?” the other says. She looks up to the second floor, knowing Nas is up there and trying to send a telepathic message for him to come down and link up.

“Girl, please,” her friend interrupts. “This story is fiction, and if it isn’t, then he’s obviously in love with Aria.”

“Well, I choose to believe it’s true and that I have a shot. Stop trying to steal my hopes and dreams. You're no longer invited to the threesome.”

The two of them burst into laughter just as I walk out of earshot of their annoying conversation. I guess this is the downside of Nas publishing such a personal story. Half the women in the world think they have a shot with him now, while the other half think it’s just great fiction and romance written by a very attractive man.

Part of me wishes they all knew it was me. It’s not enough that I’m wearing a platinum chain with a diamond encrusted lock for a charm. I know it’s my day collar, and other members of the BDSM community probably do too, but people who aren’t in the lifestyle just think it’s a pretty chain. They don’t know that I belong to Nas and that he is mine. They don't know he gave me the bruises on my wrists, or that the scabs on my stomach are from Nas going to the extreme when we partook in some hot knife play. They have no idea. Sometimes, I want to wear a giant billboard with his name on it instead of a day collar.

I finally reach the escalators after what felt like a mile of stumbling in a zig-zag, and as I begin the slow journey up, I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a quick text to the group chat.

Me: I’m here. Nervous as hell. These bitches are swarming.

Not even five seconds goes by before I start to get responses from my favorite people in the world.

Juliana: Girl, you know that man is committed to you. You’re practically married at this point. Just relax.

Shay: Don’t let it bother you. They’re all fans of his. You are HIS WOMAN.

DeShaun: Do I need to pull up? Because I will. Let those hoes know who he belongs to.

Juliana: Exactly. Nas is your man, boo. Don’t be afraid to stunt in front of them so they know it.

Shay: Exactly!

DeShaun: Seriously tho, do I need to pull up?

Me: I’m good, DeShaun. Thanks tho.