Imagine getting a call that YOU were chosen to be signed to a record label. Also imagine having to stop your reality just to become someone and something you're not. Having fame is not easy and some people regret making that decision.
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"This shit'll have you feeling good. I don't usually smoke cause I be singing and shit but here, hit it," Tryce extended his arm out with the thick blunt in his hand.
I grabbed it from him and pulled smoke from it and felt my lungs fight the smoke. This was my first time ever smoking weed. I was more of a drinker but it didn't hurt to try something different.
I hit it a few more times before handing it back to him. It'd been just us this whole trip, like we just clicked and he tried his best to understand me.
I've never had anyone actually try, they couldn't handle it. But Tryce didn't mind and I still have to keep my guard up, I have no more time for disappointments.
Carmen has already done it which is crazy. A nigga you hardly know is more important than somebody you've known your whole life?
Fucking stupid.
It's like she doesn't realize how fake she is. Like she has to present herself a different way when he comes around.
Shit maybe he's in her head but either way the game goes, she still turned her back on me.
That nigga ain't nobody special and when he drops her for the next thirsty bitch I won't be around.
I keep trying to help and save everyone else but who the fuck 'gone save me?
She's most definitely not. I'm all I got in this world, so it was a wrap putting others before myself.
Times like this make me miss my brother more. I could come to him about anything. He was my journal.
I confided in him and trusted him to the highest degree.
"How you feeling?" Tryce rubbed his hand across his chin as he smiled over at me.
"Weird," I dropped my eyebrows down. "Is that normal?"
"You'll get used to the feeling. You ain't uncomfortable are you?" He blew smoke from his lips and relaxed in his chair.
"Nah," I laid back onto his bed, letting the high come over me. "I feel good now,"
"Good," he chuckled, ashing the blunt into an ashtray.
"Great," I blinked slowly and smiled up at him.
"I got you something," he got up from the chair making me raise up from the bed.
I crossed my legs and just watched him grab a Walmart bag, handing it to me.
"Sorry about yo' book. I know how you felt about it so I got you a new one," he sat back in his seat. "I know it ain't the one you had and hopefully them bitches just end up giving it back to you. But in the meantime there you go,"
"Thank you," I smiled up at him, pulling the black and white composition notebook out.
He also bought me a pack of glitter pens and there was a Snickers bar in the bag too. "Is this mine?" I smirked and started to open it.
