◍ ⊱ 90's Imagines. [ ON HOLD. ]

❝0011. ─ Toss It Up.

1994.
"Are congratulations in order? Could rapper Tupac and his longtime best friend and actress Jada Pinkett be secretly engaged? An inside source says Jada popped the question to the hardcore emcee over the weekend. If so, can we get an invite to the wedding? I know it's gonna be poppin'."

My jaw clenched tightly as I looked up at the TV, the grip I had on the remote caused my knuckles to drain of color. My leg shaking uncontrollably in anger. Every other day there was another news story about Jada Pinkett and my so-called boyfriend Tupac Shakur.

The fact that the two of them had decided to never confirm or deny rumors that they were more than friends had aggravated me to no end. I understood that they had been close since high school, but it made no fucking sense how hung up on her he was. He would bitch and moan to me about how wild Jada is and how she's fucking everything with a heartbeat and two legs. Complaining to his girlfriend about another girl, and he didn't seem understand the problem.  Not to mention he would go on national television and tell them that she's his whole heart and she could have any and everything from him. I truly had no problem with Jada, we had met a few times and she was always cordial and so was I. But this was beyond ridiculous.

I heard the front door open and automatically my eyes rolled up into my head. I was hoping his baldheaded ass would stay out all night so I could have time to calm down but as sure as the fuckin' day as long, his heavy ass footsteps came closer. I turned my head to look at him for a second, my eyes narrowing. What studio was he in where silk was in the damn dress code? "Ay, baby what you watching?" He asked as he leaned over the back of the couch to place a kiss on my lips before I turned my head quickly, causing his full lips to brush against my cheek, I heard him kiss his teeth loudly. "The fuck wrong with you?" His tone instantly switched from soft and sweet to harsh and argumentative. There was two things Pac was always up for, some ass and an argument. I promise the nigga could pass the state bar without ever stepping foot in a law school.

"I don't know, ask your fiancée nigga. Fuck out my face." I mumbled the last statement as I crossed my arms over my chest. Part of me hoped he'd be in a 'fuck it' mood and leave me alone, but as soon as I heard that annoyed chuckle I knew I was in for at least an hour of yelling and cursing.

"So who the fuck am I suppose to be askin'? Who I'm with now, Madonna?" He scoffed with a mocking tone as if there wasn't real rumors about him and her crypt keeper looking ass, I stood up from the couch using the remote still in my hand to turn the television off, staying completely silent. "TALK! You got so much fuckin' mouth. Use your words, college graduate!" He challenged, causing me to turn and face him.

"I'm tired of turning on the damn TV and seeing you and Jada man, it's tired! It kills me because we been together for a WHOLE year and you always tellin' me that you gon' make me known when you ready but let them ask about little miss Pinkett. Ya dick get hard and you start droolin', you full of shit."