What happens when Jasmine travels back in time and has to keep her favorite rapper from dying? Is she able to complete her task? And what happens when she gets too accustomed to her life in the past? Read to find out.
"Do.. you want an autograph or a picture or something?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah that would be great."
Stupid, stupid, stupid. But how? How was he here? It's 2019, he died in 1995, almost 25 years ago.
He motioned for me to come in, so I did. He went in one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a picture of himself.
"What's your name?" he asked me as he pulled a sharpie marker out of the same drawer.
"Jasmine, or Jaz."
My heart was beating so fast. The rapper I've looked up to and have been crushing on my entire life - my whole reason for wanting to be a rapper - was standing right in front of me.
He wrote something and then handed me the picture.
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"Here you go," he said with a smile.
"Thank you."
"So what brings you by? I ain't ever here so I know it wasn't 'cause of me," he laughed.
"Well, it's gonna sound stupid, but I don't have a calendar or my TV yet since the moving truck is taking forever to get here, so I have no idea what the date is today. I just came by to ask."
"Oh, you're the one that just moved in next door. Nice to meet you," he said, extending his arm for me to shake his hand. "And it's November 16th, 1994, but I'm sure you know the year."
"Yeah, nice to meet you too. I just needed to sign some paperwork but was at a complete blank as to what today's date was. Thanks."
"No problem. And I'll be here for the next two weeks because I'm house sitting while my parents are away on vacation."
"Ahh, so hopefully I'll see more of you."
"Most likely."
I love how much he smiles. After every sentence - a big old smile. I like him so much but we have such polar opposite lifestyles. And on top of that, we're from two completely different eras. He was born in 1964, and I was born in 1999. That would be super weird if I wasn't time traveling.
"You know," he continued. "I was actually about to go to Fatburger to get some food. You wanna ride with me?"
"Yeah, why not," I responded.
We walked out and he shut the door behind us. When we walked into the driveway I saw him look at the car that had somehow transported me here.
"Ha, we got the same car," he laughed.
"Haha, we do. My mom got me mine for my 17th birthday so I've had it almost 4 years."
"I bought mine when I was 13, before I could even legally drive it. Hop in."
He unlocked the car and we both got in before he pulled off. He put a cassette in the stereo and I heard the familiar intro of 'Real Muthaphukkin' G's' start.
"Oooh!" I exclaimed. "This is my shit!"
I perfectly rapped every part of the song and at the end, when we were pulling into Fat Burger, he looked over at me.
"What?" I asked, catching his glare.
"Are you sure you're not gangsta?"
"Never said I wasn't," I said with a wink as I got out the car.
He got out and followed me into the restaurant.
"What do you want?" he asked, watching me study the menu.
"Um, I guess the small burger. I don't think my mouth could open up wide enough for any other size," I laughed.
"This your first time here, newbie. You need at least an original burger."
"We don't have any super fat burger restaurants near where I'm from in Jersey."
He smirked and walked up to the cashier. "Two original burgers, a large Sprite, and a-"
"Large Dr. Pepper, no ice."
"-and a large Dr. Pepper, no ice."
A few minutes later, we got our food and he grabbed our tray. I picked out a table and we sat down across from each other.
"So what do you do?" he asked me mid-chew.
"Well, I'm starting a job at the Cedars Sinai hospital on Saturday, but it's not my real passion. Never has been. I've gone through years of school but I'm really only in it for the money. It's selfish to say, but it's the truth."
"Well, what's your real passion? Or have you not found it yet?"
"Music definitely. Ever since I was young, I've been writing rhymes and freestyling over beats, just waiting for my opportunity to make it like to where you are."
"You can't wait. If you keep tryna' wait, you're gonna miss your opportunity- scratch that. You gotta make your own opportunity, 'cause it's not gonna knock on your door. I mean, sometimes it can, but you gotta chase the shit down FBI style, you feel me? Don't keep waiting around for something. It's kinda like a relationship. If you just sit in the house all day, just go to work and go home, you're never gonna find nobody. Now I'm not sayin' be desperate and force something, but you gotta take the initiative to get what you want."
"I feel you. I just have so much going on with the move, preparing to start a new job, staying in touch with the music. I'm starting to feel like I'm almost losing time for it."
"Nah, I doubt it. For now, yeah you might be a little overwhelmed but once everything calms down I'm sure you'll pick it right back up. If you've been doing it that long, and it's really your passion, your thing, you'll never lose it. It's in you forever. Like if I stopped rapping today, I'd always still be a rapper. Whether I want to or not, it's still in me. It's in my blood. Now I wasn't born a rapper. Fuck no," he laughed. "Rapping was not my thing at all. But Dre made me do the shit and look at me now. I never saw myself getting here. You really can surprise yourself when you put effort into something."
His wise words stuck in my brain. Even when he stopped talking, what he said kept replaying in my head. I sat there just taking it all in, along with my big ass burger.
"Wow. I never thought of it that way," I told him. "Like even if I don't write every day, it's still with me and I still have the capability."
"Always. Now if you don't finish that burger quick, I'ma snatch it."
