Game Over (21 page)

It was becoming obvious I had wasted my time with L
ore’l. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, though, I continued to attempt to talk her out of going back to Atlanta. Scotti and I were offering her the chance of a lifetime and we didn’t want her to throw it away. Finally, she reluctantly agreed to go back to Miami .

The entire ride back, L
ore’l had an attitude. She sat in the back seat damn near pouting like a baby. It was unbelievable. She wouldn’t even talk to us. Most aspiring artists would’ve killed for that opportunity. What made it even worse was that once we reached Miami and tried to get her in the studio, she refused as if punishing me for believing enough in her to want to see her succeed. I couldn’t believe her. She really had me wanting to smack her fuckin’ hairline back a few inches.

W
hile still in disbelief, Scotti and I both realized that we’d each tried numerous times to get her in the studio and weren’t successful. I personally had only seen her in the studio once. It started to occur to me that maybe she wasn’t worth my time. Maybe she wasn’t really writing her own lyrics and was scared to admit it. That one time I’d seen her in the studio, she was laying a track that was already written. That’s when I remembered what Red Café told me…

“She ain
’t what you think.”

No wonder he fell back. The light bulb finally flickered, but I still had love for her and was willing to move past the little episode until I got a call
one night while out at dinner.

“Your girl is foul as fuck,” a friend of mine said on the other line.

“Who?” I asked, not having any idea who or what he was talking about.

“What did you do to her?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.
Who
is foul?”

“L
ore’l, Winter. She was all up in Wet Willies shittin’ on you. She said you let some nigga do something to her.”

“What?” I damn near shouted.

My friend went on, saying that Mijiza, my girl from New York, who I had been friends with for over fifteen years, was co-signing the shit. They were together talking about me behind my back like two high school chicks. I couldn’t believe it. I knew the incident Lore’l was talking about but it didn’t happen how she was saying it did. Mijiza was also there when it happened. She knew Lore’l was lying. How the fuck could she sit there and co-sign I wondered?

The shit sounded so unbelievable that I wasn’t quite sur
e whether to believe it or not. Obviously Lore’l had some bottled up feelings about me since she wasn’t returning my calls. Refusing to let it mess up my night, and realizing that she’d just stuck a knife in my back, I silently thought,
we’re done
. To this day, I often wonder why Lore’l hasn’t made it in her music career. Shit, I wonder if she’s actually ever written anything. But what do I know? The girl might be a lyrical genius. She just never showed that side of herself to me. The only thing that continues to aggravate me is the fact that Lore’l never realizes that she fucked up. She owed me from back then.

And still does.

Still, I always land on my feet.

At that point Roc had to go
too. He served no purpose. I got rid of him instantly.

Not long after that incident I hooked up with
Ron ‘Gutter’ Robinson an old friend from my Murder Inc. days. He mentioned that he’d moved to Miami and worked for Flavor Unit Films owned by Queen Latifah and Shakim Compere. We chatted briefly about my current work, who’d I’d recently styled and then he told me Flavor Unit was searching for a Costume Designer for their film department.  Just like that I rebounded. That’s the beauty in having a resume.

Before I knew it Gutter had hooked up a meeting with one
of the heads at Flavor Unit. My resume spoke volumes. I secured the job as Creative Costume Designer. That was just what I needed. A job still in Miami, and with positive people.  

***

Whoever said hard wor
k doesn’t pay off lied. My career grew wings and had taken off. Flavor Unit Films began to teach me so much more than what I expected when I was hired. I learned that my styling skills could be sharpened just from being around the right group of people. In addition, being Costume Designer was about more than just picking out clothes—it involved reading scripts and making sure the actors had the right clothing for each scene.

Our work days for filming were consistent
—sometimes long. But, at least I knew after the scenes were completed for each day my work hours would end. Just the fact that there was a Monday through Friday schedule excited me. There was no weed smoking, no partying, and no running around the set. Real talk; this was real shit.

Over the course of my first few months
I became increasingly nervous. My first movie, “Percentages” was coming up and preparing for my part and responsibilities had me on edge. There were staff meetings, where of course I knew to be on time. Then there were production meetings where we discussed things more specific to our jobs, timing and locations. I wanted to prove to everyone that I could handle the opportunity given to me. I wasn’t just cut out for the Hip Hop world.

Eventually production time rolled around.
Anxiety filled me. Not necessarily from being around Ving Rhames, Melinda Williams, Cam’ron the rapper, or the other actors in the movie. I’d been around celebs most of my life. My nervousness stemmed from working with Shakim and Otis, another employee of Flavor Unit Films. His team was top notched and expected perfection. Styling artists was more about fashion and making my artist look fly—setting trends. But my new job was more technical—styling for continuity—where my skills were tested. A lot of what I learned had to be self-taught.

By the end of production on
“Percentages” I felt like a million bucks. I had come through like I knew I could. In some ways my work would come easy to me. I’d end up working with actors and actresses I admired such as, Omar Gooding, Antwan Tanner, Macy Gray, Clifton Powell, Henry Fonda, Terrance Howard, Jennifer Lewis, Jo Jo Simmons, Donnell Rawlings, and Alexz Johnson just to name a few.

And the pay spoke volumes to
o. My days of making $300 were over. I now made anywhere from $5,000 to $20,000 per movie, depending on the budget of the movie.

Now that made me proud.

Yet more important than money, another positive male was put before me in the form of Shakim Compere. The head honcho around the set, he reminded me of Ted. Married with children, he showed me I didn’t have to hang out constantly, smoke and pop bottles to be successful. This man knew how to take care of business the right way and was respected by his entire staff. I admired the way he trusted his team, never micro managing and always making people feel comfortable.

Such a deep, stark contrast to my experiences in Hip Hop.
On the surface the two worlds may not have seemed too different. But for me it was as different as night and day

2
3-
Same Shit, Different Day

Even though I had to drag myself out of bed on the sunniest day
Miami had encountered that first week of October 2011, he was still on my mind. The fact that Jason had played me the night before had me wanting to go postal. The mere fact that he’d asked his boy, Bici, to lure me down to Club Play for the Trey Songz video shoot, and then pretended like he didn’t know me angered me to the core. His games had gone on for too long. Yet, I found myself pacing the floor, reflecting back on his laugh, his raspy voice, his bald head, the boyish look of his face. All of it turned me on no matter how hard I fought it. For me, Jason was all of the above—a long-time friend and my former lover.

Fuck that! It was war from my view. He knew not to disrespect me in my town. As if he’d known I was thinking about him,
Bici texted me once again, this time saying, “Jadakiss said call him.” I remember tossing the phone across the room, thinking ‘new day, new shit.’ Games! There always has to be fuckin’ games with him! At first, I wasn’t going to respond to the text. Just like he’d shrugged me off last night, like I meant nothing to him, I wanted to dish out the same treatment.

My feeling
s had gotten to me momentarily. I thought about the night before. I’d pulled up to the club and saw four dudes standing outside, one of them being Jadakiss. I immediately realized I had been set up. Although Bici was one of the men standing outside, Jason was front and center, looking suspicious. Of all the people Bici had said were attending the video shoot, he’d failed to mention Jason. He’d informed me that Fab was inside so chatting it up with him would be cool, so I stayed after hugging Bici tightly, along with two other dudes from my past, Groovy Lew and Ice Pick. They both complimented me on what I was wearing, but of course not Jason. Like clockwork, he paid me no mind. He gave me a few glances but that was it. No words, no compliments, no conversation. Nothing. Yet, all in all, it was revealed that Jadakiss was the one who wanted me to come to the club. I waved him off and headed inside to chat with Fab.

When my phone sounded again, I looked back at the text, hoping to forget the night before. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to hear what my cocky, shady friend had to say.

“What’s up?” I said dryly the moment he answered.

“I’m sorry ‘bout last night,” he said softly.

I rolled my eyes. “Jason, you owe me breakfast, lunch and dinner for the shit you pulled last night. Why you always acting like you not feeling me?”

“Just come through, I got you,” he said nonchalantly. “Nore’s shooting a movie today.”

“Bet, I’m on the way.”

Since I considered myself
Slim’s woman, I knew he wouldn’t like the idea of me hanging out with a notable rapper like Jadakiss, I figured he wouldn’t find out. Although they both were in the industry, Slim was on a different level; a caliber most couldn’t touch. He kept his world quiet and classy, so I figured their worlds wouldn’t clash. Besides, I couldn’t resist seeing Jason while he was in my town, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to network, maybe a job would come out of it somehow. People who knew me well understood that I was always looking for another way to make money. Before I knew it, I agreed to go see him.

A couple of hours later, I found myself walking in the door of his suite. There
were about a dozen people already there which surprised me. I’d assumed we were going to be alone, but then again, it worked to my advantage. As usual, weed smoke was loud as I was greeted by several of the people in the room, each showing me love. Most of them had been at the video shoot the previous night. Music was playing and liquor was being guzzled. Unlike last night, Jason actually acknowledged me. He greeted me with a pound like I was one of his homies rather than giving me a hug or a kiss. That irked me but at least he spoke this time.

It didn’t take long for the room to clear. It seemed as if everyone peeled out within seconds. When it finally emptied, I snapped on Jason. “Jason, tell me why you had
Bici text me last night and then you acted like I didn’t exist? We’ve been friends for too long.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, don’t play stupid! You know what I mean! You always do this shit! You’ve been doing it for years now. It’s called being fake!”

He shook his head like I was stressing him. “I see you the same old Winter. Still Hollywood.”

“I’m tired of going through this with you, Jason!”

He looked me in the eyes and said, “Hollywood, you know how I feel about you. I just don’t like the whole world in my business.”

“So, you ignore me in front of everyone?”

“I apologize for that
.”

His apology did nothing to ease my frustration. “I can’t tell. I think you
’re letting this stardom shit go to your head.”

“
Go ‘head with that. So what you been up to?”

“I’ve been working at Flavor unit,” I told him proudly, mad that he’d changed the subject. I paus
ed, unsure of how much of my business to really share with him. I looked at him standing there with a sense of entitlement because of our history together, the same history that seemed to mean nothing to him anymore. I hoped that he didn’t think that just because we’d been lovers in the past, he was entitled to some ass from me since we were alone. Even though I’d messed with plenty of well-knowns in the industry, I wasn’t a jump off. That wasn’t me. We took it easy and reminisced a bit until things lightened up.

Soon, I decided to confide in him about my new business opportunity. I told him Mona
Scott-Young was considering creating Love & Hip Hop of Miami and that she wanted me on the show. Love & Hip Hop is a successful reality show that launched on VH1 and focuses on the lives of women in the Hip Hop world. It originated in New York and spun off to Atlanta. Miami would be the latest franchise. 

“What’s your thoughts on it?” I asked. Honestly, I’d thought he wouldn’t agree with it but he surprised me. He seemed more excited about it than me.

“Are you serious? Yo, you should do it,” he said. “This is your time to shine! Whatever you need from me, I got you!”

He seemed totally supportive and I loved it. Jason
could always motivate me. When we were together sexually, I was inspired by his motivation and determination to succeed. I loved that part of him, but still had those mixed feelings lingering. He was like a see-saw. The man I knew so well had a warm side, but others knew him as this hard, Hip Hop sensation. Now he had me feeling good about him and
us
once
again. Just the thought of how things could be for our friendship from this point excited me. I needed someone experienced in the business to coach me in the Reality TV world. He would be perfect.

“Yo,
Hollywood, fa real, this gon’ be hot! You gon’ be a star!”

I smiled, thankful for his support. It really did mean a lot to me.

“So I can depend on you to mentor me about the business?”

“Didn’t I say I got you?”

At that point I truly believed him. I trusted him. As I listened to him talk, my heart softened more and more. I was reminded of the man he used to be. I was reminded of how great things were between us when I was in college and his dream of being a huge rapper was coming true. Things truly were different then.

“I really want things to go back the way they were,
Hollywood, but as friends. I fucked up and I realize that. I had a good thing with you. Can we at least try?”

A part of me wanted so desperately to believe him. His words sounded genuine and honest, but there was the issue of Slim. He was my
$350 million dollar man and was my main priority. Was Kiss now trying to insert himself back into the picture? Was Jason trying to be more than a friend? He now looked and sounded just like the man I’d grown up with.

“You know you gon’ need a boyfriend on the show right?”

That comment threw me off completely. At that point, his motives weren’t clear to me. Crazy thoughts flooded my mind. I thought of Slim. If he knew I was in Jadakiss’ hotel room he’d spaz on me, but having Jason go on the show with me as my boyfriend was out of the question. Did Jason need the show just as much as I did?

Jason’s career had skidded over the years. His records weren’t selling like they’d been when he first came into the game, but he still had that same cocky swagger
with which he’d entered the game. That still turned me on about him. Still, another part of me, the rational side, made sure to remind me of the games he’d been playing. It reminded me of all the times he said one thing on the phone but turned around and did something else in public. I could see us on the show together and then he’d back out at the last minute.

“Jason, how do I know you’re serious?”

“Because I am. I know I haven’t given you reason to trust me but it is the truth. I wouldn’t lie about something this serious. I still want you in my life as a friend. I really need more people around me I can trust.”

I saw something in him I hadn’t seen in years. It touched me. He sounded and looked too real for me not to believe him. In my heart, I really felt he was telling the truth. I could feel in my soul that he wanted to do right by our friendship.

“I don’t know. I may not do the show,” I abruptly told him.

“Are you crazy?” he said. “This is a hell of an opportunity. Once you’re on the show, the whole world will open up for you. People will know your name and face. You’ll be able to step off into fashion, hosting opportunities and a whole lot of shit. And you need to write a book. Yo,
Hollywood, you can’t pass this up. This is an opportunity people kill for.”

Jason definitely made sense. He’d been in the industry for over
fifteen years so he had experience. He knew what he was talking about and with him by my side guiding me, I could go further than I would on my own. Besides, the book thing sounded great since I had written in my journal since the Fabolous days. For the rest of the night, we talked mainly about the show. Hours flew by and it was time for me to leave. The two of us agreed to stay in touch and he promised to call the following day.

The next morning rolled around with Jason reverting right back to his old self
—full of shit. You know you’re truly feeling someone if you check
their social media
before you check your own. I got on my computer and went to his twitter page, wishing I could lose the feelings I had for him. What I did next was considered stalking. His page was filled with recent posts and photos of him while in Miami. Nearly every picture had bitches in them. It was like I had a front row seat, watching him and his friends popping bottles and trickin’ on every chick in the photos. Jealousy invaded my veins. I hated feeling that way, especially for a screw-up who didn’t feel that same way about me, but that’s what you got when you mess around with Platinum record selling artists who smell themselves too much.

Why couldn’t I let go of my feelings for him? Why did I care about who he was with? I had someone I was interested in and who cared about me. Why should I have care
d how many women he was trickin’?

Eventually, I put all emotions aside, this was business. I needed him
, and he needed me. 

After that night,
we began to talk more often. I never told him how angry I was for not being invited out with him while he was still in Miami. Besides, he really seemed to be trying to change. All the things he’d said while in Miami seemed to have been the truth. He was definitely putting forth a commendable effort.

When November
2011 came, I ended up in New York and on the Love and Hip Hop set to tape my cameo giving Emily advice about Fab. Sadly, all deals were off for the Miami show, but there were some talks of me coming on Season 3, NewYork as a cast member. So many thoughts flooded my mind: Would that show be a good look for me? Would I have to come in contact with my old flings? I wasn’t really sure if the opportunity was right for me. I needed guidance.

Thankfully
, Slim was in Australia and even though we’d talked on the phone countless times, he had no idea I had done the episode. He wouldn’t have gone for it. Yet Jason was right there. As soon as I got off set, Jason asked me to meet up with him. The two of us wound up spending a night together at his place. We just chilled, no sex. We spent that entire night talking mainly about the advice I’d given Emily and if I was ready to step into the big leagues. Jason still seemed more excited about the show than me. He gave me tons of advice and helped me plan for it. All of the advice and encouragement continued over the next four or five months. I’d kept Jason in the loop about
everything
involving the show, including my pay rate, my talks with VH1 executives and show producers and also my talks with Viacom. I’d even confided in him personal secrets about my life no one else knew. I trusted him that much. He’d truly grown to become my confidant and I knew I could trust him.

Or at least I thought I could.  

A few weeks later I was back in Miami when I got the call from the Love and Hip Hop show. I rushed back to New York to finally sign my deal as a new cast member. I called Jason for some last minute advice. Everything seemed cool. During the conversation, he reminded me that my appearance on the show would be hotter if I let him come on as my boyfriend as Jadakiss. Obviously, since I was with Slim, that couldn’t happen. I had to tell him, “no.” By the time the conversation was over, I honestly thought he understood. I thought there were no hard feelings, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.