Game Over (14 page)

One day while at Fab’s house
, I sent Big Money a picture via email. I thought he would just comment on the picture. Instead, he responded:

C
ome to Miami
.

M
y heart pounded as I wondered how I was going to make it all work. Fab was out of town but due to come back the following day. I asked Emily if she thought I should go. She gave me the go ahead. Next thing I knew, Big Money had purchased the ticket and I flew out.

He was in
Miami to work on his second album so I knew his time would be split between me and the studio. Still, I loved Miami and I now loved “Big Money.”

The word
‘love’ now had me feeling crazy; I still couldn’t believe he had me feeling that way. I arrived in town and we ended up at the Shore Club. Our two day rendezvous was filled with lots of studio time and moments where Big Money would have me listening to his new songs that hadn’t been released yet. I truly enjoyed those moments with him. It gave me a chance to see how really determined he was with his career. We even ended up spending a night at the Hit Factory and I realized that he didn’t just talk to me about his goals and dreams, he really was ambitious.  

Journal Entry     

Is this fool serious? We have to listen to his song while we're having sex. I
can’t. This is crazy. He came off a lil cocky but I didn't think he was feeling himself this bad. At least the songs not too bad. Now everytime I hear this song I have to think about him and his lil penis. I like him though so we're gonna stick it out. Hopefully later down the line we can switch up the playlist when he puts out more music. Maybe something with one of my favorite R&B singers so I can sing along while we fuck.

Our sex life still needed work. I found out the hard way that Big Money was a selfish lover. He always wanted to get his…and that was it. No other way to put it. He was also demanding. When he wanted it…he wanted it. Still, none of that mattered. We’d gotten much closer and were taking it further and further every day. Shit, I was in love. I mean the real thing. I was head over heels for him just like I had been with Smiley so many years before. I had finally found someone I could give my heart. I had finally found someone who I felt understood me and would take care of my mind and body.

Those
rare moments during which we lay in each other’s arms and passed blunts or when he’d ask my opinion about his music were dear to me. I was happy that his career had taken off. All the plans he’d discussed with me were becoming reality. The Hip Hop industry was all over him, especially the streets and specifically trap niggas. To them, he was like the next coming of Tupac. They felt no rapper could represent their pain and struggle like Big Money. His lyrics were just that realistic and his character was just that authentic. He’d really lived it. Little did I know, though, our time together would get interrupted.

Fab called spazzing out on me. He was livid. Basically he felt like I was running behind a rapper and unable to do my job. “I do my job,” I roared back knowing I’d given him my all. 
 

“And why the fuck did you go to
Miami, Winter? You work for me! I need you to be available!”

That was that controlling shit I hated so much. As long as I did my job, what was the problem? It seemed like me
working for him and having a relationship wasn’t going to work.

Bullshit!

16
-
That Life

Fab’s career continu
ed to blow up. 2006 came around far too quickly but it ended up being one of the most memorable years of my life. I ended up traveling to places I least expected. Some places not so fabulous like when we went to Poland and I got left behind because Fab took the last seat on the flight.

Journal Entry

This asshole left me and Tykie in
Poland at this airport. Some fucking racist ass country and I'm sure he's on the plane checking MySpace and not even givin’ a fuck about if we're getting home. Oh well I shouldn't expect anything else from Fab and his selfish ass. I guess I'll have to make the best of the situation. No one speaks English-FUCK. Tykie thinks this shit is funny. I'm gonna kick his ass before we leave this stupid ass country. This seat that I turned into a bed is so uncomfortable and this burger that Tykie brought back from the airport restaurant is gross. This can't be beef. I'll starve and die in Poland and Fab will be on MySpace during my funeral.

  Then there were more glamorous times like when we took a private jet to Canada for a performance. Fab’s career had skyrocketed. He was in demand everywhere so the Canada trip was a promo event to capitalize on it. It was work as usual for me, no fun, although I loved the fact that we got to ride on a private jet. Something about that experience excited me, knowing that I would write about it in my journal that night. I loved the fact that we didn’t have to deal with long lines or getting our bags checked. We just drove right up to the plane, hopped out the car, climbed on and went about our business. It was on the jet that Fab told me he’d talked to Jay-Z and was in negotiations with Def Jam.

The ne
xt few months were crazy busy. There were constant radio and print interviews along with all sorts of invites and bookings to perform. I was excited for Fab’s career but also excited for myself. He had trained me to become an amazing assistant. I no longer saw being an assistant as work or a job. I saw it as a craft. I saw it as something only few have the patience and people skills to do. And I had mastered it. With Fab, I’d visited wonderful places, met countless important people, made numerous connections, built a reputation and knew I was poised to eventually do bigger and better things. But nothing meant more than knowing that I had played a huge part in Fab’s turnaround. Yes, his talent got him to where he now was. But my patience and nurturing skills helped. There was also another achievement that had a lot of importance to me…

My relationship with
Big Money.

Since we’d been doing our thing, I’d had millions of chances to get with other cats. I was always being approached. Men were always promising and offering me things. Damn near not a day passed by without someone showing interest in me. But I always turned them down. I had gotten serious about
Big Money. As close as we were becoming, it was looking like we were really going to be something special. It looked like he was the man I’d been waiting for all my life, and I was ready to slow down and be his wife. He had me just that fuckin’ gone. But instead, I was handed disappointment and bullshit.

I ended up seeing him at the Superbowl festivities in Detroit of that same year. Thinking we were all good, I was ready to schedule my sneak away from Fab, when my eyes spotted Big Money in the club with a chick. At first I couldn’t confirm if they were together. The sight sent bile rising up in my gut. I was caught off guard like a deer in headlights. It wasn’t clear to me how best to handle the situation. Of course I wanted to kick his ass, but I was working as Fab’s assistant and had to hold my composure. My heart told me he was with her. I’d seen rappers show up with new chicks too many times before. I don’t know why I felt he would be different. When they blow up and everyone begins to pay attention to them, they forget about the one who loves them.

Finally I got up enough nerve to approach him. “You really here with a chick?”

First came the sigh…then the bullshit.

“You’re not here with me, you’re with Fab
,” he said bluntly.

Big Money was right and I knew Fab and others were watching. I had no choice but to fall back. Still, I couldn’t shake my emotions as I walked away.

Man, talk about
hurt
? I was shattered. My heart dropped to my feet. I then realized my mother was wrong. I was born with tear ducts. Tears welled up in my eyes. My world felt like it was completely destroyed. I was also angry at myself. I couldn’t believe I’d let a man, a rapper, get me open like that. I couldn’t believe I had exposed myself for another let down.

Right after
the Super Bowl, Big Money began calling me. He swore up and down that the chick he’d been seen with wasn’t ‘bout nothin’. There was nothing going on between him and her. Around that time, rumors were flying all over the place that he was also sleeping with some R&B chick. He denied that also. He actually swore on his son.  How classic is that?

He blamed the rumor on a bunch of nosey people who didn’t know what they were talking about, had nothing better to do with their time and who just wanted to get some shit started.
  It was obvious he was doing me bad but I was in love. It was plain and simple as that. I’d done the same thing to plenty of guys and was seeing Fab do it to plenty of women. But when you’re in love with someone, you tend to give them the benefit of the doubt. You don’t want to believe they would hurt you so you ignore shit, hoping with all your heart it’s not what it really is. And in my case, I realized I’d been searching for what me and Smiley once had for so long that I just didn’t want to accept that it didn’t exist.                                 

Against my better
judgment, I believed him. Yeah, I know.

He ended up flying me
down to Atlanta to chill with him, with the intent on making amends. He spoiled me with his time and affection, which seemed genuine. My feelings grew deeper, especially after the love making. Obviously, things are said and done in the bedroom during the heat of the moment, things that make you love that person more than before. Those things, combined with how he’d been treating me since he brought me down to the ATL had me gone over his ass once again. We seemed good; no more drama so I headed back to my life and my job, not knowing there was more drama ahead. This time, though, the drama wouldn’t come from my relationship with Big Money.

***

Memorial D
ay of that year rolled around. Fab was hosting a party at Club Prive` in Miami. The place was wall to wall packed. Music blaring, bottles popping and celebrities mingling. Fab and I had about twenty people of our own with us. We always rolled deep, mainly for security reasons. There was never no telling when someone would try to run on Fab and become an overnight celebrity. Among our crew was a dude named Ruggs. Ruggs was wild and liked to have fun, even though his type of fun wasn’t always good for him or the people around him.

As we were all sitting at our tables in the second floor section of the club, Jim
Jones and his crew walked in. Chrissy was also with him but we never made eye contact. Before long, for whatever his reasons were, Ruggs decided to go fuck with Jim. At that time, I didn’t think anything of it but I wish I had because on purpose or simply because he was drunk, Ruggs knocked over a bottle Jim Jones was drinking.

All
hell broke loose.

An argument started between Ruggs, Jim and Jim’s crew. Seeing the argument
and after having words with Ruggs, Fab went over to talk to Jim alone. He knew tempers were still flaring and the argument could go further if he didn’t do something to diffuse it. For once, we weren’t joined at the hip. I wasn’t with him as he made his way across the club but I got word that he and Jim talked. He apologized to Jim about what had happened and told him he had no idea why Ruggs did what he did. Jim accepted Fab’s apology and things were good. But not for long.

About twenty minutes later, Ruggs went back over to Jim
again and started fuckin’ with him, kicking over some bottles of champagne, acting wild and crazy. Both crews began yelling and making threats. Things were beginning to get physical when security finally stepped in and calmed things down. Both crews went back to their sides of the club.

Someone in Jim’s crew told security and security told the club’s owner. The owner had zero tolerance at that point. He didn’t want a repeat of what had happened earlier and he definitely didn’t want to take a chance on getting his club torn up so he told Fab and the rest of our crew we had to leave.
It seemed unfair, but now I realize you’ve got to be careful about the people you let roll with you. Since they come from the street and have no concept of keeping things professional, they will fuck things up for you in a minute. They will put you in some crazy positions. And I was getting ready to find out just
how
crazy.

We left the club and headed to the parking lot but Fab refused to leave. He wanted to hang around and diffuse things with Jim. He didn’t want Jim to think he’d sent R
uggs over to fuck with him again. Whatever Ruggs was on, that was his own business. Fab wasn’t being a punk, he just didn’t want beef. He just saw a bigger picture. He knew eventually everyone would see each other back in NY and things could escalate. The streets could possibly get involved and someone would get hurt or possibly killed.

As we wait
ed, Miami PD took notice. Seeing a group of black men hanging out probably made them nervous. They figured we were up to no good so they watched us carefully. Jim finally came out with about eight of his homies. Chrissy was with him also. Immediately I tried to make eye contact with her, hoping as women we could diffuse anything that might go wrong. I figured if we could have talked, she would be able to speak some sense into Jim if need be. It turned out to be too late though.

Shaq, Fab’s
best friend saw where things were headed and quickly stepped ahead and yelled, “Yo, Jim, Fab just wants to talk to you.”

Shaq had a level head and was one who knew the beef needed to be squashed.
From what I saw, Jim was making his way alone towards us. Fab and his security headed towards him. They were going to talk things out. But suddenly shots rang out. Everyone ducked and began to scatter. My heart began to pound. I didn’t know where the shots were coming from, who was firing them or who was hit. I just ducked for cover and ran like everybody else. People were screaming. It was chaos. The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain in my arm and leg. It stung and burned like hell. I knew I was shot. At that time, I also saw Fab grab his leg. He’d been shot too. We were both trying to figure out what had just happened to us. Thank God we discovered shortly after, we’d been shot with BB guns.

That night had me shook
. It also opened up my eyes that I would always be put in dangerous situations while working for Fab, possibly ending my life. It wasn’t Fab who was the problem, it was the company he kept. But life as an assistant doesn’t stop or even slow down. Money still had to be made, business still had to be handled and mouths had to be fed. Like nothing ever happened, Fab got back to working on his album. We’d been staying in Miami for weeks and still had at least another month to go before he was done. While in Miami I talked to Big Money whenever I could. 

Months
flew by, but as soon as a little personal time slipped through I met up with Chrissy at Chynae’s spot back in New York. Chynae had been leasing the place from Chrissy ever since she’d moved in with Jim. Chrissy and I spoke about what had happened back in Miami between Fab and Jim. Our accounts didn’t match up. I’m not saying she’s lying. I’m just saying they were different. From where she was standing, she possibly saw things another way.

Anyway, we didn’t sweat what had happened. As long as no one got hurt or killed, it didn’t seem to be worth our time. We knew the blogs, magazines and radio stations were making the beef bigger than what it really was so we left it alone. In the meantime, the two of us got to know each other a little more and began to hang out much more.
That would eventually become a problem for Fab.

With everything that was going on in
his career he didn’t have time to figure out why I’d started hanging out at Chrissy and Jim Jones’ house more often. I never tried to explain….but eventually I took over Chynae’s apartment and began sub-leasing from Chrissy. Chrissy and I began spending lots of time together; mostly shopping, chilling and watching tv. Fab never knew where I had moved to…I never told him. I’d learned a lot. Like Fab and Big Money- I had their same mentality….my personal business was just that…personal.

Before I knew it we were headed out
of town again, this time for his European tour, which was huge. In Europe they treated him like he was Michael Jackson. The girls actually cried and fainted when they saw Fab. With at least five cities on the tour the most memorable was London. We stayed in a hotel directly across the street from Buckingham Palace. I was amazed, getting a chance to see all the statues and historical surroundings near the palace. Of course I loved the fact that I had the opportunity to see the famous clock, Big Ben. Those times made my experiences with Fab all worth it.

Ray J was also on tour with us.
We spoke a few times and chilled but nothing worthy of discussing. He was cute and I’d heard he was bomb in bed but we never had any dealings with each other sexually. The tour was strictly work related.