Juanita Monroe-Giancola was always a people pleaser. Doing stuff she didn't necessarily want to do just to make others happy and bring a smile on their face and brighten up their day.
Especially after the death of her twin sister, Maria.
Juanita fee...
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After having got done with my set, both me and Proof walk off stage, and I get handed a towel from one of the stage hands, and I immediately wipe my sweaty face with it, still feeling somewhat high from both the crowd's reactions to me performing in front of them as well as the drugs I took earlier.
Which is funny as hell to me, cause I ain't even used to take drugs like that till I started rapping about taking them.
Now my head spins somewhat, and Proof and I make our way outside to the car that my bodyguard is supposed to drive us to the next venue where the after party is about to be held. A couple of bimbos already waiting for us inside the car.
Shit's been like that lately, and I can only imagine how it's gonna be once I go on tour in a couple of months to promote the Slim Shady album.
I look at Proof and the two of us smirk at each other. I'm glad as a motherfucker that I ain't messing with Kim like that no more, I can do whatever the fuck I want to as of right now, not to mention that the slut was cheating on me left and right anyhow back when me and her was together.
And Proof do got that chick Sharonda that he's been getting real serious with, according to him, but he's probably still tempted by them eager ass sluts constantly throwing themselves at the both of us, and my dawg do be tryna stay faithful to his girl, but sometimes it's hard, and I ain't about to judge him for that. Cause at the end of the day, how can he know for sure that Sharonda ain't playing him? You can never tell with women.
As I plop myself down on one of the plush car seats though, and one of the groupie chicks comes to sit next to me, rubbing her hand all suggestive like up my thigh, my lids getting heavy and hooded as fuck from just how drunk I'm currently am, but the girl's band getting closer and closer to my groin keeps me awake somewhat. Constant female attention boosting up my head like a motherfucker.
I've literally just now managed to finally fight myself into this lifestyle. This fame shit and all the insanity that comes with it. And I still can't believe how quickly I blew up, even though Dre warned me that it's gonna be like that when he signed me to his label. He told me shit was gonna hit the fan quick, but I had thought he was just exagerrating or some shit, but come to find out, dude wasn't lying at all.
And I wonder if this is how it's gonna be like when I go on tour in a couple of months, and I would be a lying ass motherfucker if I say that part of this don't excite me.
But then, a part of me is getting tired of this also.
All the attention from random ass people that wouldn't have even looked twice at me if I was still a regular guy is starting to grate on my nerves and becoming overwhelming.
Even if part of it is addictive as hell.
Cause once again, I was in fact only a regular guy before, not a damn soul ever thinking I was worth shit.
