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December 15th, 1995
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Tupac was engaged to none other than Kidada Jones. Her father, Quincy Jones, was a hard man to please. He cherishes his daughter and their well-being. Tupac is the sentimental type, so he'd buy flowers and write her poetry to woo her at all times.
There were times where he'd regret being in a relationship with her, because she was too high maintenance for him. Janet was a rarity to find. He loved working with her prior to their relationship. Everyday guilt eats him up inside, asking himself why did he cheat on Janet.
He hasn't seen or heard from her in over a year. Of course he thought of her, but deep down he knew she wasn't doing the same.
"Wanna go out tonight?" Kidada asked. She loved going out to dinner every night, but Pac was different. He loved home cooked meals; that was the key to his heart.
"Nah, Jan-Kidada." He slipped up the second time this week, and it annoyed the hell out of Kidada. He really missed Janet and their companionship. Best believe if he didn't do any stupid shit, she'd be pregnant with their first child by now.
"I'm not that bitch, Pac. My name is Kidada, get it right." Kidada was the jealous type, and that showed Tupac she was an insecure person.
"First off, Janet ain't no bitch. Fuck is wrong with you?! Secondly, you need to stop acting like a five year old kid. Every damn day you wanna go out, but your cheap ass ain't the one paying. There's food in the house, and you rather spend money..my money on top of that." She rolled her eyes and stuck her middle finger at him.
Tupac felt super trapped in this relationship, but he didn't want to disappoint Kidada's father. He knew that he wasn't dating him, but in all honesty he didn't want to hear the bullshit from neither of them.
"Watch your tone, you baldheaded ass nigga. Stay in ya lane, remember who I am." Kidada spoke, leaving Pac confused.
"You don't make music, or movies. You just living off your daddy's money. Now who's the bitch?!" Pac laughed. Automatically Kidada slapped him in his face, making Pac almost lay hands on her. He was raised by his mother to never hit on a female. Ever.
He raised his hand, wanting to aim at her face but he simply lowered it, slowly. He grabbed his coat, weed, car keys, and wallet heading to the front door.
"Once you walk out the door, you ain't welcome back you ass." Kidada yelled, seeing him near the front door. He turned around and flipped her off, keeping that same energy.
Pac started his black Jeep up, heading to the one person who understood him the most: his mother. Ms. Afeni wasn't very fond of Kidada and her superior ass attitude, but if her son was happy, that's all that mattered.
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