Chapter 1
Cast:
Quinn Matthews.
Indigo Mitchell.
Nyla Mitchell.
Damari Mitchell.
Zuri Blackwell.
Trell ‘Rello’ Blackwell.
Grace Hardy.
Treyvon ‘Baby’ Blackwell
Mia Mays.
...
Compton, California:
Quinn Matthews pushed open the front door of her mansion, letting it swing shut behind her as she kicked off her heels. It had been a twelve-hour day in the operating room, and all she wanted was a hot shower and silence. Tossing her purse onto the marble countertop in the kitchen, she grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and headed to her home office to unwind.
She plopped down in her chair and flipped open her laptop, her fingers moving on autopilot as she pulled up her router’s admin settings, a habit she’d picked up after Indigo’s first round of cheating. They had been on and off since they were 15. No matter how many times he broke her heart or made promises he couldn’t keep, Quinn always found herself going back to him. He was her first love, the boy who used to hold her hand walking home from school, the one who made her feel seen when no one else did.
But the man he’d grown into? He was still stuck in the same cycles, running game, hustling, and making excuses for why he couldn’t get it together.
As the list of connected devices loaded, her eyes scanned the names: Quinn’s MacBook, Quinn’s iPhone, Indigo’s PS5, Indigo’s iPhone... and a new entry Mel’s iPhone.
Her stomach dropped, replaced quickly by a sharp, burning rage. “Mel’s iPhone?” she muttered to herself. She clicked the device name and checked the login time, earlier that afternoon.
The sparkling water in her hand was forgotten as she slammed the bottle down on the desk, the fizzing liquid spilling over onto the papers beside her.
Quinn stormed into the living room, where Indigo was sprawled out on her white leather sectional, one arm lazily draped over his face. The TV was on, but he wasn’t watching it, he looked too comfortable, too smug, like a man who didn’t have a single worry in the world.
“Who the hell is Mel?” she demanded, her voice echoing through the open space.
Indigo peeked at her from under his arm, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Ayo, you deadass right now?” He let out a short laugh, sitting up and throwing his hands out dramatically. “Here we go. Quinn, you stay makin’ somethin’ outta nothin’. Like, you bored or somethin’?”
Quinn wasn’t amused. She stalked over to him, yanked the remote out of his hand, and turned off the TV. “Don’t play with me, Indigo. ‘Mel’s iPhone’ is connected to my Wi-Fi. And unless Mel stands for ‘medical supplies,’ you’ve got exactly five seconds to explain before I throw you and all your stuff out of my house.”
Indigo shook his head, his laugh turning into a full-blown chuckle. “Man, you trippin’. You out here actin’ like some damn detective. Ain’t nobody been in your house but me. Maybe the Wi-Fi done glitched or somethin’. You ever think of that, Miss Einstein?”
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Indigo!” Quinn snapped. “You think I’m too stupid to know what’s going on under my own roof?”
He smirked wider, leaning back on the couch like this whole situation was a joke. “Nah, you just paranoid. Always lookin’ for a problem. I’m chillin’ you the one wildin’ out.”
That was it. Quinn’s vision went red. She grabbed the throw pillow next to him and hurled it at his head. “You think I’m stupid? Huh? You think I don’t know you had some random woman up in MY house, using MY Wi-Fi while I was out there saving lives?”
Indigo ducked, laughing even harder. “Ayo, chill with all that! Throwin’ pillows now? What’s next, Quinn, you gonna call the Wi-Fi police? C’mon, man, you sound crazy!”
Quinn stormed to the side table, grabbed a designer vase, and hurled it at the wall, where it shattered into a million pieces. Indigo jumped up, hands raised, his grin finally slipping.
“Aight, aight! Damn! You got issues, Quinn. For real.”
“No, what I’ve got is a man who keeps lying to me, disrespecting me, and playing in my face!” Quinn screamed, her chest heaving. “Get your stuff and get out!”
Indigo threw his hands up, shaking his head like she was the one in the wrong. “See, this why dudes don’t mess with chicks like you. All that money, all them degrees, and you still the same lame girl from 103rd.” He grabbed his duffle bag off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder with a cocky shrug. “You actin’ like you better than me, but deep down, you know what it is. You’ll call me in a week, bet that.”
Quinn’s jaw clenched as she shoved the door open, her voice steady but cold. “I’d rather die single than deal with another minute of your nonsense. Now get out of my house.”
Indigo walked out slowly, stopping on the porch to glance back at her with that smirk. “You’ll miss me, Quinn. They always do.”
“It shouldn’t be no they you fuckin’ asshole!” She slammed the door so hard the walls shook, locking it and leaning her back against it. Her hands trembled, but her heart felt heavier than her anger.
She slid down to the floor, and let out a long, shaky sigh.
This wasn’t the first time she’d thrown him out. For as much as Indigo hurt her, he knew her weaknesses better than anyone. He knew how to make her laugh when she wanted to cry, how to touch her in a way that made the world stop spinning, and how to promise just enough to keep her hooked. He was the only man who could make her feel small and invincible at the same time.
But as she stared at the shattered vase and the empty living room, one truth echoed louder than all the others: no matter how far she’d come, where she came from and Indigo, still had their grip on her heart.
Indigo Mitchell slammed the door to his car, muttering under his breath as he drove through the streets of Compton, the music blasting but doing little to drown out his frustration. His phone buzzed on the passenger seat, but he didn’t bother looking, it was probably Mel blowing him up, asking why he hadn’t called.
“Damn Wi-Fi,” he muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. He had never expected Quinn to be so thorough. Then again, she was Quinn Matthews, the smartest, most stubborn woman he’d ever met. She didn’t miss nothing.
Fifteen minutes later, Indigo pulled up outside his little brother Damari’s loft. The building was nothing fancy, but it was a step up from where they’d grown up. Damari had gotten into flipping sneakers and designing custom kicks, making enough to set himself up nice. Indigo banged on the door twice before letting himself in.
Damari was sprawled on the couch, a gaming controller in his hand and a blunt tucked behind his ear. The TV blared with gunshots and explosions, but Damari didn’t even flinch.
“Yo, what’s good?” Damari called, not bothering to look up. “You look mad as hell.”
Indigo tossed his duffle bag onto the floor and sank into the chair opposite him, rubbing a hand over his face. “Man, Quinn caught me slippin’. Again.”
That got Damari’s attention. He paused the game, the corner of his mouth twitching as he turned to face Indigo. “Oh, this ’bout to be good. What happened this time?”
Indigo leaned back, shaking his head. “Man, you ain’t gon’ believe this. She checked the Wi-Fi, bruh. The Wi-Fi! Like, who even does that?”
Damari stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter, clutching his stomach as he leaned forward. “Ayo, she caught you with the damn Wi-Fi? Yo, you gotta be the dumbest dude alive!”
“Man, chill out,” Indigo said, throwing a pillow at him. “Ain’t nobody ask for all that.”
“Nah, nah, I’m sorry,” Damari said, wheezing as he waved him off. “But for real? Quinn? She always been crazy, bruh. You knew what you was signing up for. She prolly got cameras in every room too.”
“She don’t got no cameras,” Indigo shot back, though he wasn’t entirely sure. Knowing Quinn, she’d probably installed some and just hadn’t told him yet.
Damari sat back, still grinning. “Man, she been like that since day one. Always all up in your business, always gotta know everything. Remember that time she popped up at the park in high school, talkin’ ‘bout she heard you was chillin’ with some girl from Crenshaw? You ain’t even do nothin’, but she still went off!”
“Man, she trippin’ over nothin’ now, just like she was back then,” Indigo muttered. “All I did was let Mel stop by real quick. She ain’t even come inside.”
Damari raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so Mel just stood on the porch, huh? Didn’t touch nothing, didn’t sit nowhere?”
“Alright, she might’ve come inside for a minute,” Indigo admitted, his voice low. “But it wasn’t even like that!”
Damari smirked, shaking his head. “Bruh, you stupid. You know Quinn don’t play that. And Wi-Fi, my guy? You let her catch you on the Wi-Fi? That’s rookie-level dumb.”
Indigo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Man, I don’t even know why I put up with her sometimes. She always on my ass, actin’ like she better than me ’cause she a doctor or whatever.”
“But you still keep goin’ back,” Damari pointed out, his grin widening. “You love that crazy chick.”
Indigo shrugged, not even bothering to argue. “She got her ways, but she the only one who ever really had my back, y’know? Even when I mess up.”
“Mess up? Bruh, you been messin’ up since 10th grade,” Damari said, laughing. “And she still takin’ you back. She crazy, but you lucky.”
“Yeah, well, she kicked me out again,” Indigo muttered, glancing at his duffle bag. “Told me I was still the same dude from the block, and she don’t need me in her life.”
“Damn,” Damari said, shaking his head. “She really hit you with that?”
Indigo smirked, leaning forward. “Yeah, but you know how it go. She always talkin’ big, but give it a week. She’ll call. She always does.”
“You better hope she don’t change up for real one day,” Damari warned, picking up his controller. “She might be crazy, but she the best thing that ever happened to your sorry ass. Don’t be too stupid to see that.”
“Man, whatever,” Indigo said, brushing him off. But as Damari unpaused the game and started playing again, Indigo couldn’t shake the feeling that his brother might be right.
Indigo leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling while Damari focused on his game. The sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the room, but Indigo’s mind wandered back to Quinn. Her face flashed in his mind, not the angry, fed-up version from earlier tonight, but the one he couldn’t resist. The way she laughed when she let her guard down, how she looked when she fell asleep on the couch after a long shift, still in her scrubs.
“Nah, I ain’t goin’ out like that,” Indigo muttered to himself.
“Say what?” Damari asked, side-eyeing him while still mashing buttons on his controller.
“I’m just sayin’, Quinn be trippin’, but she ain’t finna leave me for real,” Indigo said, sitting up. “She always talkin’ that ‘we done’ stuff, but who she gone be with, huh? Some corny-ass doctor?”
“Bruh, you keep playin’, and she might just do that,” Damari said, not even looking at him this time. “Quinn ain’t like these other chicks you be dealin’ with. She got options.”
“She think she got options,” Indigo shot back. “Ain’t nobody gonna ride for her like I do.”
Damari snorted. “Ride for her? You ridin’ through her Wi-Fi history, my guy. That ain’t love; that’s tech support.”
Indigo grabbed a nearby throw pillow and chucked it at Damari, hitting him square in the head. “Man, shut up.”
Damari paused the game, finally giving him his full attention. “Alright, real talk. You know Quinn don’t need you, right? Like, she really don’t. She got her own money, her own crib, her whole life set up. You just... there.”
“That’s cold,” Indigo muttered, slouching in the chair.
“It’s facts,” Damari said, shrugging. “You always actin’ like you the prize, but she the one holdin’ it down. And every time you mess up, she still let you back in. You need to figure out why you keep messin’ up, bro. ’Cause one day, she gone wake up and realize she don’t need no Indigo in her life.”
Indigo didn’t respond right away, the words settling into his chest like a weight. He hated how Damari could cut through the bull and get right to the truth.
“She ain’t leavin’ me,” Indigo said finally, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice.
“You better hope not,” Damari said, picking his controller back up. “’Cause if she does? That’s on you, bruh.”
Indigo leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. He couldn’t shake the image of Quinn slamming the door in his face, the fire in her eyes as she told him off. He could gaslight her, charm her, sweet-talk her back into his life, but how long could he keep doing that before she stopped listening?
“Man, forget this. Let’s go hit Roscoe’s or somethin’. I need a drink,” Indigo said, standing up.
“You need to sit down and think about how not to get caught next time,” Damari said with a laugh, but he grabbed his keys anyway.
“Next time?” Indigo smirked. “Ain’t gon’ be no next time.”
Damari gave him a look. “Bruh, if you believe that, you dumber than I thought.”
Indigo didn’t say anything, just shook his head and headed for the door. Damari followed, still chuckling as they stepped out into the night. Indigo could feel the cool air against his skin, but all he could think about was Quinn. She might’ve kicked him out tonight, but he knew her. She’d calm down, they’d talk, and it’d be like always.
At least, that’s what he told himself. But somewhere deep down, a part of him couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe this time was different.
