III. Arrogance's Calling

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May 24, 1992Los Angeles, California

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May 24, 1992
Los Angeles, California

The wedding drained all of my energy. A beautiful intimate service, it was. The black and white attire of everyone was especially my favorite. I do wish that my hair could've been styled differently rather than these braids but everything still looked nice. I was forced to sing Moonlight per Maria's request. That song has become my family's go-to wedding song and it's a bittersweet one. Something just as bittersweet is my uncle's short-lived honeymooning in California over the weekend, keeping his pager on so that if I needed him, he wouldn't be too far. I felt like I was poisoning his honeymoon.

In return, I hope to gift them a honeymoon with all expenses fully paid set for this July. That way, they get what they deserve and I can beat out quarter million dollar crystal vase with their names laser etched that'd been gifted by the Minnesotan I once lived down the street from.

On set, I sit still as Honey burns the tips of my braids with her lighter. Giggling at Buffy's petrified expression, I do my best to explain the logic of Black hairstyles. "It makes them stay locked. I don't feel it." Unconvinced, her stares don't fade as Honey laughs. "I promise you I can't feel it. You have to do it right though they get scratchy. I scratched Pac the first week of filming, remember?"

Buffy bites into her apple as she watches me also get my makeup done. "You're about to be hugging all up on him again," teases Honey.

The person getting the most joy out of my role has been Honey. A true Hip-Hop head down to her core, my sudden involvement with so many rappers has tickled her. The image I've acquired over the years has left me with a label of a 'Good Girl'. Any time I've been seen in public with Prince questions were raised strictly off of him being the Rude Boy and me being the Good Girl. Bigger questions were raised when Todd and I'd be seen in public. Now, going from raunchy rockstar to playboy rapper to becoming directly attached to a gangster rapper is the ultimate flip for me.

"I'm okay with that," I laugh, closing my eyes as Phi runs the applicator across my lids. Though he is as much as nine years younger than I, Tupac remains to be all types of fine. I love hanging around him. So having be all hugged up doesn't bother me.

"Just hugging up? Or would you fuck him?"

My nose scrunched up as I continuously shook my head in disagreement. "That doesn't make us friends. Don't use the F word so lightly, Honey." I hear the signal knock as Honey finishes up the last of my tips.

I'm a lucky one to have Uncle Dorian reworking my contracts. I've been in this business a while now, meaning I earned a title I wear. I can be labeled a diva for requesting my glam team be employed on the set to take care of me, but I see it as nothing more than me wanting to assure I am taken care of. Although I don't mind being styled by the regular set stylists I met, I certainly am more comfortable with my girls. I know I'll always been in good hands if they are taking care of me.

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