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»Rock le bateau, rock le bateau«

»Rock the boat, rock the boat«

»Rock the boat, rock the boat«

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August 25, 2001

"Finally, we can relax." I happily sighed, crossing my legs. I was talking to my hair stylist, Eric Foreman. He's the ultimate bestie and hair stylist, and he's pretty funny. Once, he dressed as a pimp on the set of my photo shoot to make everyone laugh. "And, the sun looks completely beautiful from here."

"Yeah, but we still have to catch a plane back to Miami in about twelve hours I think." Eric looked at his watch, which he didn't know how to read. He's just like Tionne when she couldn't read an analog clock for when I took a pregnancy test back in '92. Good times, good times.

"Eric baby, you need to relax a bit. It's six in the morning by the way. We have plenty of time to soak up sun, now that the video's finished." I reached down to the pool in front of us, and scooped up water to flash on him. Eric took that as a challenge and cupped his hands together to get me back. We kept wetting each other with water for about four hours, then, we fell asleep by the pool side.

°

"Who the hell is calling me?" I groaned at my cell phone ringing unnecessarily loud. I flipped open my phone to check the number. It was unknown, but I still answered it anyways. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Carmen, baby, I'm glad that you answered!" That annoying son of a bitch, no offense to his mother, said. How in the fuck did he get my number? "I thought I'd never hear your sweet voice again."

"What bullshit do you have to tell me this time?" I rolled my eyes.

"You were right, that wasn't my kid. She lied to me this whole time, I feel heart brok-"

"Let me stop your ass right there, busta'. I told you that the boy wasn't your kid, but your big eared ass didn't want to listen. If you're about to ask me if you could visit your real kids, forget about it. Toodles!"

"But I-" I hung up on him mid sentence. I told him in the past that I was not up for his bullshit, but he wouldn't listen. See, when you do clownery, the clown comes back to bite.

"Girl, who was that?" Eric picked his head up.

"DeVanté's bitch ass, he called me because his girlfriend lied to him about her child being his. So, he's begging me to let him see his real kids, even though he neglected them for her for two whole ass years. What a bastard." I scoffed.

"See, this is what I call growth! Let him know that you're not gonna beg for him to stay for a little while." Eric clapped.

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