I Was in an Abusive FICTOSEXUAL Relationship

Ink and Paper

Patrick spun in his chair, clueless but curious. Luchini looked to the others for social cues to know what he should do next. Then he began smiling because smiling seemed safe.

“Yeah, this is me. I’m here. How you doin’, Dinero?” Joseph’s voice came through the speakers, sing-song and smug. Mia knew that tone. He was here to antagonize Mia in some way.

“Thanks for calling in, man!” Dinero said. “We got your baby mama, Mia Delion, here. She’s been on a lot of podcasts lately, spouting all this feminist gibberish.”

Mia rolled her eyes. Not cheating on your wife is feminist gibberish? Their morals were in Satan’s septic tank.

“We wanted to know what you think about all that,” Dinero continued.

Joseph chuckled. “It’s all good. She’s out here making her little money. I ain’t mad at that.”

“But she’s not good at maintaining relationships with men. Don’t let her fool you with all that power girl stuff.”

Dinero leaned in. “What do you mean by that?”

Patrick muttered, “Isn’t it obvious? She’s unmarried and already trying to cuck her husband.”

Joseph kept going. “We split up a while ago, but we have a son together. I just think we need to keep a good relationship for our son’s sake, but Mia lets her feminism get in the way. It’s always drama.”

“Like the other day, I asked her to let me borrow fifty dollars. I mean, come on—fifty bucks is nothing. But she had to go all ‘rah rah rah, I ain’t giving you nothin’! Blah, Blah, youse a broke ass! Yadda yadda! Look, I don’t want her anymore, but what man’s gonna put up with that?”

Bed warmer. Bank teller. Baby maker. b***h.

Today, Joseph must’ve mistaken her for the bank teller.

“You must be out of your mind asking me for fifty dollars,” Mia growled. "You couldn't get 50 cents out of me, let alone 50 dollars."

“Shee... you actin’ like I asked for a car loan or something! Like I asked for a damn mortgage payment! It’s fifty damn dollars, Mia!”

“Then why don’t you have it?” Patrick asked, and Dinero and Luchini laughed.

Mia's headache started pounding harder. Ugh, the stress. And now here comes this fool. “Joseph, you were supposed to pick up our son and take him to the movies yesterday. You never showed up. Let’s talk about how you let your son down instead."

"That's why I needed the 50 dollars, Mia. How can I take him to the movies if I ain't got the money? That's your fault!"

Mia fumed. "You don’t even pay child support, Joseph! You’ve got some nerve asking me for money!”

Patrick jumped in. “How you gonna ask your baby mama for cash when you don’t even take care of your kid, man?”

"Is this the kind of dude you’d hook up with if your husband cheats? What if your husband ain’t got fifty bucks for him either, Mia?” Dinero teased.

“He should’ve taken our ‘Make $100K a Month with Affiliate Marketing’ course. Then she’d be crawling to him for fifty bucks!” Luchini added, completely oblivious to what the focus of the argument was.

“So, the great Mia Delion was dating a low-value dude who can’t even pay child support?” Dinero sneered. “Why am I not surprised?”

Mia froze. They weren’t just humiliating Joseph--they were using him to humiliate her. And the irony? These same men constantly ranted about how child support was unfair to men. Now they were weaponizing it.

There was no defense. She couldn’t defend Joseph. He'd sabotage himself anyway. And she couldn’t protect herself from the fallout.

“This is the kind of man my generation of women were told to ‘ride or die’ for,” Mia said. "The underdog. The guy who didn't have anything but was 'nice.' I was told to build him up. Love him through the struggle.”

She fixed her glasses and sighed. “Except after twenty years of struggling, this fool still has nothing.”

Patrick scoffed. “Sounds like you just don’t want to take accountability for your bad choices.”

Mia turned to him, eyes sharp. “Honey, don’t talk to me like I’m your baby mama.”

Even Dinero and Luchini chuckled at that one.

"And don't talk to me like I'm this loser baby daddy of yours," Patrick responded.

Before she could respond, Dinero flipped a switch. Blaring rock music filled the studio—the Disaster Avoidance Team’s outro.

“And that’s our show, folks! Thanks for tuning in, where men discuss men’s issues and try to save the world from feminism!” Dinero did his usual air drum solo while Patrick and Luchini bobbed their heads in unison.

Mia exhaled hard as her head throbbed. This was bad. It could, in fact, be VERY bad.

Seven minutes later, Mia sat at a bus stop in downtown Brooklyn, still fuming.

That i***t Joseph. She was already mad at him for standing up their son yesterday. No call. No text. No explanation whatsoever. He just didn’t show up after he promised to take Jackson to the movies. Which meant Mia had to try to console their son, and make up an excuse for Joseph, not because she was trying to protect Joseph but to protect their son's heart.

Because she knows what it’s like to be stood up by your father over and over again. For him to have “better things to do” than to spend time with you and keep his promises to you. She was the child of divorced parents, and Jackson was the kid of never-married parents. The situations were a little different, but Mia could see the pain her son experienced was the same.

Mia had fooled herself into thinking maybe something serious had happened. That maybe Joseph was lying in a hospital somewhere, injured. Hearing Joseph's call in the radio show had dashed that idea immediately. Joseph couldn’t make the time to call their son to tell him he wouldn’t be there, but he had plenty of time to call in a podcast show when the objective was to humiliate Mia in the name of “Men’s Empowerment."

If Joseph was really interested in empowering men, he would take better care of our son.

But seriously, how did men's and women's relationships get so bad?

She was the relationship blogger trying to figure it out. That’s why she did the podcast and tried to talk to men. Tried to reason with them. But the more she talked to men, the more she was starting to really, really, really NOT want to talk to them.

And if she didn’t want to talk to them, she most certainly wouldn’t want to date them. That was a weird concept for any woman to face, let alone one whose career was a relationship blogger.

She took a deep breath. Exhale. She calmed herself, and then her eyes fell to the poster on her left. She saw a giant purple ad for a new web comic site. A beautiful blonde woman clung to a tall, dark-haired man with piercing blue eyes. He held her protectively, arms chiseled and strong.

Mia stared. Damn.

She started giggling at how weird it was. His fine ass instantly took her out of those dark thoughts. And for a moment she remembered what it was like to find a man attractive again.

But he’s just Ink and Paper. He’s not real. So does he even count?

She used to love comics. American comics. Manga. Manhwa. But life had drowned that joy.

Still, something about that image tugged at her. She missed stories about kind-hearted, heroic men. The ones who loved their children and loved women without cruelty. Without games.

She’d spent five years listening to red pill gurus tell her women were inferior. That love was weakness. That obeying marriage vows was optional for men, but not for women.

And yet, in those fantasy stories, women were cherished. Protected. Loved.

Maybe she needed to grow up and face the fact that those men only existed in fiction.

Fantasy, she thought. Delusions. Heroic men don’t exist. Not for me.

But then she saw it.

Another billboard. Same web comic site. A different man this time. Jet-black hair. Hazel eyes. And a caption:

“Come on, Mia… I really need that fifty bucks.”

She froze.

“H-Hiro?!”

A chill ran through her. Her headache was gone, but...Dizzy. Lightheaded.

Hiro Kisaki? It can’t be...

I told you, Kiku. I would find you.

And I always keep my promises…