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❛ . . . COME TO DEATH ROW ! ❜
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in which a young californian native
gets signed to the most dangerous
record label known to mankind, a...
❝ it is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end. ❞ excerpt , ernest hemingway.
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𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 𝑹𝑶𝑾 . ( CHAPTER LXXIV : the finale tour. )
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ʷᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ, ʲᵘˡʸ ¹⁷ᵗʰ, ¹⁹⁹⁶. ˢᵗ. ˡᵒᵘᶦˢ, ᵐᶦˢˢᵒᵘʳᶦ.
THE MAKAVELI SESSIONS CONTINUED and the two songs that were recorded were Lost Souls featuring the Outlawz and To Live & Die in L.A. featuring Val Young. Tupac was working himself nonstop, so much so, he still hadn't found the perfect time to talk to Mika about Kidada.
Mika was now on the road for her tour, and it was a huge success. It was a bittersweet feeling for her because Tupac and Amara weren't on the road for her. Especially since Amara was slowly but surely becoming more aware and knew that she rarely saw her parents, but she still gravitated towards them nonetheless.
Mika's current stop was in St. Louis, Missouri and she was backstage, getting pampered until it was showtime. "Sometimes I wish that me and my husband were normal people. Here we are, working our asses off instead of honeymooning. We barely see each other now." She released an exasperated sigh.
"Don't worry yourself to death about it, it's not like you won't be able to make up for all of that time once your schedules are free. I think it's cute to see a hard working couple. Being underneath one another all the time will drive you crazy, trust me." Brielle spoke as she applied the shiny, red polish on Mika's fingernails.
Mika and Brielle met the first day she arrived to Missouri and she approached her as a true fan. She knew so much about Mika and knew her discography like the back of her hand. Mika never got to know a supporter on a personal level until she offered to show her around her hometown.
They kicked it and bonded in the course of two days. Mika didn't speak much about her life behind the music, but that was because she hadn't known her that long to even disclose that type of information-even if Brielle knew so much about her.
"You're right, but that still doesn't get rid of the fact that I need him. But, I'm gonna stop talking about it because it'll only make me feel worst and I'm sure you don't want to hear me complain." She closed her eyes as the makeup artist applied the smoky eyeshadow to her lids.
"No, no, I don't mind it at all. I see how much he means to you and that's such a beautiful thing. Black love is a nice thing to witness." She smiled, speaking in her fluent Puerto Rican accent.
