I Was in an Abusive FICTOSEXUAL Relationship

A New Life, a Broken Vessel

Three weeks in the hospital, and Mia Delion was losing her mind.

The doctors had poked, prodded, scanned, and sighed. Finally, they gave her the verdict: kidney failure. Her body had been quietly poisoning itself for months. She'd been so busy she hadn’t noticed the changes in her health.

Dialysis. Three times a week. Or a transplant.

That was her new reality.

She hadn’t cried right away. The shock was too heavy. But when the nurse left and the curtains were drawn, she was alone in her hospital room. Quiet. Restless. The tears came, and she couldn't stop them.

She wanted to give up. But she had Jackson. Her son. Her reason for living now.

The only upside to this medical nightmare? Jackson got to spend time with his father. Mia had let Joseph stay at her apartment so Jackson wouldn’t be uprooted and forced to live with Joseph’s mother in the Bronx. Queens was his home. School was nearby. Stability mattered.

Yes, the idea of Joseph snooping through her things made her skin crawl, but for Jackson’s sake, she swallowed the anxiety.

Her mother had brought her laptop and charger to help keep her entertained. The more she watched Netflix or YouTube the less the depressing thoughts came. Also, her girls kept her spirits up.

“Girl, I know exactly what busted those kidneys—Mr. Long Pipe from the block. You know the one with the walk that screams ‘I ruin lives.’ He busted them kidneys right out for you!”

"Tamika, you are disgusting!" Mia said into her cell phone amid Shazarah and Emily's giggles. Finally, Mia let her cousins' foolishness get to her and she chuckled too. Only Tamika could make a perverted joke out of Kidney failure.

"And exactly who is 'Mr. Long Pipe?'" Shazarah Dah asked. The 'tea' Had her curious.

"She's talking about that lil' boy that's always flirting with me around my neighborhood," Mia rolled her eyes. "New Jersey, is his name. I'm not messing with him. He's like 23 years old!"

"Girl, that's that good age. They are young and dumb and do whatever you say and can d**k all night!" Tamika said.

"New Jersey's a dope boy (drug dealer), Tamika. I can't have him around my son. No way! Jackson cannot get involved in that street life. I'd have to get off this damn dialysis machine to go cut somebody!'

"Hey, listen, Mia. In all seriousness, if you need me to come down there and talk to those medical professionals and find out what's really going on with your diagnosis, let me know," Emily began. "I'm not a doctor or anything, but I've got your back! Where gonna get you all the help you need!"

Mia smiled at that. Emily, her friend from work, was goth glam in a wheelchair that could have been straight out of a Tim Burton film—black velvet seat, silver chains, and an LED underglow.

The girl wasn't but 26 herself, but she was a powerhouse. She also had a serious Chronic illness, Multiple Sclerosis (MS), and was wheelchair bound, but you couldn't tell sis anything. She was a model for some big-name alternative clothing companies, already married to her soulmate, and has embraced her life as a Chronically Ill internet influencer, making disability look like a revolution. No, Emily was not a doctor, but Mia knew having her in her corner was like having a light to help her navigate this new, scary world of Chronic Illness.

'Thank you so much, Emily!" Mia said, trying to hide the quiver in her voice.

"I got your back, too, girl! I heard how they treat black women in some of these hospitals. If any of these doctors or nurses gives you any trouble, let me know! I'll beat the hell out of them for my girl!" Shazarah Dah said. She was Indian and Mia's best friend since high school. Mia realized Emily might have had the same concerns, but she had a less violent way of stating her support.

"And you know I'll be here for you, Cousin, especially if you pass that cute young guy 'New Jersey' over here," Tamika said. And she chuckles. "Tell him big New York wants to talk to him."

Tears spilled from Mia's eyes as she was filled with gratitude for the support she was receiving. But at Tamika's silliness, Mia starts laughing. "You are a hot ass mess, Tamika!"

“Mia? You in here?”

Joseph’s voice broke through her thoughts. Jackson peeked in beside him.

"Oh! I gotta go, ya'll!" Mia whispered into the phone. "Joseph's old funky behind finally showed up!"

"Ok, be well. Ad pay close attention to what the doctors are saying and make them explain everything that's happening to you!" Emily muttered. "BYE-EE!!" Shazarah shouted. Tamika was going off on Joseph, and Mia just had to hang up the phone.

Mia’s face lit up. “Jackie!”

Her son rushed into her arms, and she held him tight, kissing his forehead.

Joseph grumbled and slumped into the chair by the TV, arms crossed, eyes glued to a rerun.

Mia studied him. Same height as her, maybe an inch taller. Light-skinned, thick beard. He used to be clean-shaven when they dated.

Now he looked biblical. Like Moses with a bad attitude.

She slid on her glasses and caught the look of pure disinterest on his face.

"Joseph, where's the Valentine's Day chocolate I asked for?"

Joseph didn't move for a moment, keeping his eyes on he screen. But then he went fishing in his pocket, found the chocolate and threw it over his shoulders to her.

Mia let the chocolate drop onto the bed, staring at it in disbelief. It was just a Snickers bar.

"What is this? I asked for Valentine's Day chocolate."

"This is Valentine's Day chocolate," Joseph replied. "Can't you see the little hearts on the packaging?"

Mia rolled her eyes. She had never received a proper Valentine's Day gift—not even from Joseph throughout their relationship. She thought that now, with her being hospitalized, he might show some empathy and finally fulfill her wish, especially after his role in ambushing her on the Disaster Avoidance team podcast.

But no, Joseph acted as if he were the one who deserved an apology. He wouldn't be getting one from her.

“It took you three weeks to bring my son to see me?” she asked, voice low but sharp. "You’re living in my apartment rent-free. You’re not working. What’s your excuse?”

Joseph shrugged. “I’m busy. And broke. You didn’t give me that fifty dollars, remember?”

Mia blinked. He’s still mad about that?

It was clear he blamed her for the podcast disaster, like she’d forced him to call in and expose himself.

She hadn’t checked what people were saying about him online. She could imagine. Probably brutal. That thought made her smile a little.

Instead of engaging, she turned to Jackson. “I’ll be home soon, baby. Just a few more days.”

Jackson nodded, already distracted by his phone. At thirteen, he was already taller than both his parents, with wild afro curls and dark-rimmed glasses.

Mia glanced at Joseph again. He was silent, but smug. Like he was enjoying the fact that she was stuck in the hospital with a debilitating illness.

Fine. Let him gloat. Silence was better than a fight right now.

But the billboard still haunted her.

She hadn’t told anyone. Not the nurses. Not her mother. Not even Jackson.

What if it was real? What if Hiro Kisaki—the anime character she’d once loved—had actually spoken to her?

She stared at Joseph. Could he have done it? No way. A billboard like that would cost thousands. He didn’t have fifty bucks.

Maybe Dinero and Luchini? Maybe they knew she loved Flowers Fall Like Stars. Maybe Joseph told them. Maybe it was a prank.

She couldn’t let it go.

“Joseph,” she said, voice rising. “Cut the attitude. That billboard outside the podcast studio? That was your fault, right? I saw it, passed out, and now you’re sitting here acting like I’m the problem?”

Joseph turned slowly. “What billboard?”

“The one with Hiro Kisaki. Asking me for fifty dollars. You’re the only one who knew how much I loved that anime.”

Joseph blinked. “You saw a billboard? With a cartoon character? Saying that?”

“Yes! Right across from the bus stop I needed to get the train back to Queens.”

Joseph started laughing. Low at first, then louder. “You really lost it, huh? Ain’t no billboard like that. I was there with Jackson a few days after you got hospitalized. Nothing like that.”

They both turned to Jackson.

“You see any billboard with a cartoon dude asking your mom for money?” Joseph asked, a smile still on his lips.

Jackson looked up. “There was an ad for that manga site. With the brown-haired guy holding the blonde girl. That was in the bus stop seating area. That’s all I saw.”

Mia frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe Dinero and Luchini put it up as a joke.”

Joseph shook his head. “You need rest, Mia. That dialysis machine is messing with your brain.”

But Mia wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure?” Mia asked, turning back to Joseph. “Did you tell the Disaster Avoidance Team that I liked that anime?”

"No, Mia." Joseph sighed. “You see anything about that billboard online?”

The question caught her off guard. She had checked online—against her better judgment. If Dinero and Luchini had pulled a stunt like that, they would’ve plastered it everywhere. Recorded it. Clipped it. Memed it. These guys saw themselves as the global defenders of masculinity, and Mia as the feminist villain. A billboard in Brooklyn wouldn’t be enough. They’d want blood. Viral blood.

“Anyway,” Joseph continued, “didn’t you hear what the doctors said? You got kidney failure. Your body was poisoning itself. That messes with your mind. Hallucinations. You passed out, Mia. You were just seeing things.”

She blinked. That did make sense. She saw it right before she passed out from Kidney Failure.

It shocked her to admit it, but the logic held. Her body had been shutting down. She’d been delirious. Hallucinating. She chuckled softly. It was kind of funny.

She almost died. And if she did die the last thing she would see is her anime ex-boyfriend hitting her up for money.

Ex-boyfriend? Really girl?

Yes, ex-boyfriend. As silly as it may seem, she can't see Hiro without thinking of him as her ex, her first love.

All thanks to the mysterious player behind the avatar.