Game Over (10 page)

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Jetsetting

Time moved swiftly
after Swizz, yet my life didn’t slow down. I went straight into party mode.

R
efusing to miss a beat, I did what I know: I snatched up another dude with deep pockets and worked my magic. His name was Tye and I had him so gone he took me on a vacation to Cancun for the annual Memorial Day celebration. It was like Freaknic in Atlanta. There were black folks everywhere. Attending wasn’t new to me though. I’d been many times before with my girls.

There was always a wide variety of men there. You had regular hardworking dudes who had to save heavy to attend. You had drug dealers and pimps. You had doctors and lawyers. You had rappers, celebrities and athletes. Whatever a
woman wanted or needed in a man, it was there. My only problem this year was I’d taken sand to the beach. I was there with Tye so of course that complicated shit for me and cramped my style.

Don’t get me wrong. I liked Tye. He wasn’t a celebrity but that was cool with me. I was trying to take a break from that shit and see if there was quite possibly something else out there for me on the relationship side. I was tired of the bullshit and disappointments I kept going through with rappers. That was for the birds. I
wanted to see if things could be different with Tye. But there was a problem. As Jay-Z said, “When a good girl’s gone bad, she’s gone forever.” I’d been hurt and betrayed so many times before that each
past
man made it worse for the
next
man. So although Tye was cool people and had never done anything to make me betray him, I was already so set in my ways that I didn’t know how to be the faithful woman he deserved. Because of that, the vacation pretty much sealed the end for us. We just didn’t know it yet.

While on the trip, I spotted
a group of guys all rocking Tees with various catchy slogans, which also had the letters BMF. They were obviously not from NY since I’d never seen them before. Surely my claws would’ve gotten to them already. They smelled bossy, fa real. You could recognize it. Their swagger just exuded the shit. They were all young, thuggish, spending money like it was going out of style and buying up so many bottles of liquor and champagne that there was barely enough for everyone else. I mean, these niggas were
really
going hard. I was intrigued. And so were the other patrons of the club since the DJ kept announcing the shit.

Although e
ach of them dressed in black and white Tees, one guy in particular who was surrounded by dozens of other young players, sent someone to ask me if I wanted to take a picture. I couldn’t help myself. We eventually got introduced, took the picture and spat a few words to one another. He told me he and his crew were in the music business, they were BMF and that his name was Blue. That was strange to me. I’d been around for a minute and had never heard of BMF.

We talked for a
few more moments then I got his number and fell back. Since I was there with Tye and his friends I didn’t want to be outright disrespectful. I knew all eyes were on me. Still though, after parting ways with him, he and the letters BMF, Black Mafia Family stayed on my mind.

A few
days after heading back to New York, as luck would have it, I saw a few of the same BMF guys at another club. They were once again dressed in black and white like they were their official colors or something. Something was definitely up with these dudes, I realized. They were obviously making moves and I wanted to know what those moves were. Just like in Cancun, these cats were buying out the
entire
bar. The shit was crazy. I’d been around hustlers, rappers and music execs. But most of them, although caked up, didn’t have enough money to buy the bar out.

I smelled a baller.

Stayed curious as hell.

I watched from afar until one of the mystery men approached me and sparked up a conversation. This time
I had to get more info on them than I had back in Cancun. This time, instead of just exchanging numbers, me and this dude had a detailed conversation. He told me his name was Baby Blue and he was from L.A. I assumed he was the same guy from Cancun so I said, “We met in Cancun a few days ago, right?”

“Yeah, we did,” he replied.

Since I knew BMF was in the music biz, I figured that was his stage name. As we talked, I was feeling his vibe hard. I mean, his swag was off the chain. We connected so quickly that somewhere between that night and the next morning he invited me to Atlanta and I accepted.

Of course, it was
silly to just up and leave for Atlanta with a nigga I didn’t know. These days, I’d call a broad a bird brain for it. But back then, life was one big party for me. I didn’t think about tomorrow or consequences. That type of stuff never crossed my mind. All I knew was this baller had fat pockets and he wanted to fuck with a woman like me. That’s what I was focused on. I figured a few days in the ATL wouldn’t hurt me. Besides, what were the chances of us meeting again in NY a few days later? I felt it was meant to be.

The great thing about being young, especially in the position I was in, is that
there weren’t many household tasks, big bills to pay; nor did I have any kids. I wasn’t married and didn’t think a husband would come any time soon. Basically, I had nothing to hold me back or tie me down so I was free to just up and bounce whenever I wanted. Also, since I had no responsibilities, the money I was making styling went directly into my pocket. I didn’t have to break bread with anyone. That was great because my styling career was growing. I was now doing work for Ruff Ryder, Full Surface, Murder Inc. and few others on a regular basis. Life seemed good.

So
, I headed to the airport the next day anxious to see what my new connection had to offer. At the gate, I walked up to the guy I thought I was there to meet when another guy with similar looks called out to me. I was surprised to discover that the guy I’d met in Cancun was actually Blue, Baby Blue’s older brother. They all made jokes about the mix-up but instantly made me choose. It was cool though, I understood. I ended up with the little brother, Baby Blue.  That was a good move since on the flight it was discovered that Blue was a rapper and they were going to be filming a video in Atlanta. At least for once I wasn’t caught up with a rapper. Through more conversation I told them about my styling jobs with Murder Inc. which sparked major interest with Blue. He immediately told me I could style him for the video and would be paid sizably. The idea of mixing business with pleasure was music to my ears. My networking was now making sense.

The moment we landed and drove through the city I was struck by something that would eventually become an important part of my life. We were riding in the Suburban when a song came over the radio. I liked it as soon as I heard it. Nodding my head to it, I asked, “Who is this?” Baby Blue didn’t answer. He just ignored me. There
were about five or six people riding, they didn’t answer me either. In the silence, I realized I probably sounded like a groupie so I let it go. But in my mind, something about that voice on the song had me hooked. Its sound and tone was unique. It filled me. Sorta had me wet. I’d never heard a voice like it. I wanted to meet whoever was behind it. Someday I would but left it alone for the time.

That
same day Baby Blue took me out to Justin’s, Puffy’s spot, with his crew. Blue had actually rented the place for a private party with their own DJ, open bar, and private chef cooking for about a hundred people. Immediately, he and his dudes began running through money like water. The shit was surreal. It was like money was nothing to them.

Justin’s was filled with people rockin’ jewelry and wearing expensive clothes. Obviously, they were movers and shakers in their own right. I mingled with some of them and was surprised to see a familiar face. It was Fabolous. I was happy to see him but he
didn’t feel the same way. He gave me the disapproving look that I’d grow to know and recognize so well.

“What the
hell are you doing here?” he asked.

“Chillin’
,” I told him.

Fab was with his brother C
ain and good friend Shaq who seemed more happy to see me. I hugged both Shaq and Cain and eventually took a picture with Fabolous.

He
seemed concerned that I was hanging out with a bunch of guys. “Winter, you shouldn’t be here.” Maybe he knew something I didn’t know or perhaps he was just jealous.

I shrugged it off and told him I was good
. I figured I could handle myself no matter what.

Eventually, I left Fab and went on about my business. I had no idea that he was there to do
the video with Blue.

Later that evening, Baby Blue took me back to
the house he and his crew shared. The nigga wasn’t frontin’. My mouth dropped at the sight of his crib. It was a six bedroom house with marble floors, granite counter tops, iron staircases, walk in closets, multiple bathrooms and a whole bunch of other expensive bells and whistles. At that moment, I knew I was going to be in Atlanta for more than just a few days.

The Swissotel
, as it was called back then, became our home. And although my bags and toiletries remained at the hotel, most days were spent at the main house. Every day was the same enjoyable routine: partying, clubbing, shopping sprees, riding in Lambos, smoking the best weed, drinking the best champagne and so much more. We did all that from morning ‘till night, most of the time until the sun came up again. It was nothing to Baby Blue and his BMF crew. It was pretty much their lifestyle and they never deviated from it. If they didn’t do it big, they didn’t see the need in doing it at all. I loved just hanging out with them.

Each night was topped off with sex
and plenty of it. Although I liked sex with Baby Blue it wasn’t all I’d expected. It was nowhere near as dazzling as his lifestyle. He wasn’t as long and thick as his money. His sex game was boring and predictable…but he treated me like I was really his girl. For that, I respected him a lot. Early on he told me he loved me and waited for me to say it back.

I never did.

I’d never even said it to Smiley.

Besides in my head, I thought,
Damn, I just met you, why would I love you
?
Let’s stop talking about love and let’s head to the mall.

Still, in his head, I
know he thought I was his girl. And he protected me like a man would protect his woman. During our make-out sessions he’d act real affectionate, kissing, hugging, pulling me close. Still in all, I knew what it was.

With everything that was going on, some days I realized I was losing focus on what I was supposed to be focused on… my career. Calls for jobs weren’t coming since I’d gotten to
Atlanta but I was having so much fun that I never even thought to find out why. I wasn’t even promoting myself anymore, knowing that more money awaited me if I’d booked a few more jobs. I’d gotten paid ten grand just for styling Blue for the video he Fab and E40 did together. Despite that, the parties and gatherings the BMF crew was treating me to overshadowed it all. I was more blinded by the lights than ever before. Besides, Baby Blue was showing me off to others like I was definitely his.

During that time,
he and his crew booked thirty rooms at The Swissotel one weekend and flew five of my friends in from New York to consummate the weekend. That was the type of shit they did. They never planned for anything. They were always spontaneous. When something popped into their mind, they just
did
it with no worries about how much it would cost. If they saw a Maserati or Ferarri on the lot, they bought it right then and there. If they saw a house they wanted, they bought it right then and there. I mean, money was never a problem. No one I had ever been around did it like that. No one!

Anyway, it was around this time that I
saw Mimi again, who we now know as a member of the Stevie J love triangle on Love & Hip Hop Atlanta. It was good seeing a familiar face since I’d seen her around Ja Rule a few times. Mimi had her own cleaning company and it was nothing for members of BMF to have maids and chefs in their homes. Mimi used to cook and clean for them. Sometimes she was there to cook and clean and sometimes she was spending the night. I would often help her cook, or just hang out in the living room together drinking champagne or just having girl talk. It was good having a comrade in the house, someone that I knew, making me feel more comfortable.

Enjoyable times rarely last forever, or at least not without something coming along and knocking you on your ass. I’m not special so I’m no exception to that rule. My reality check came
about four weeks later. As usual, Baby Blue, his homies and I were out at a club getting it in. Out of nowhere, I got sick and couldn’t figure out why. I was weak and throwing up. It was crazy. I’d never experienced a feeling like it and for days it didn’t seem to want to let up. At first, I thought it was food poisoning. Eventually, I finally figured out what was up. It
definitely
wasn’t food poisoning.

Come to find out I was
pregnant.

I went into a panic. I wasn’t ready for a child. Lord knows I wasn’t. I was also ashamed; so ashamed that I didn’t want to tell anyone. I didn’t want anyone to know.
All I knew was that I had used condoms in
all
of my recent sexual experiences. Had someone tricked me? I’d heard about people punching holes in condoms.