Please excuse ANY grammatical errors.

September 1, 1993

~Tia's P.O.V~

"You know a lot about me, so tell me a little about yourself. Things you feel I should know and things you didn't get to tell me before. Highlights in your life that has either effected you negatively or for the better. You friend has told me that you have a hard time opening up to people but I'm here for you, so take your time."

"Ummm..." I looked up at the ceiling in deep thought on where to start. "I don't exactly know where to start or how to start."

"There is no right or wrong way to start. We can start wherever you feel the need to start. But, I can give you some suggestions?"

"Yes ma'am."

Elijah is the one who recommended me to her. He did his little research on her and after he told me about her, I did my research on her. When Eej said that he'd make it his business to make me an appointment, and he was true to his words. He really set this up. I've met up with her other times to warm up to her, but this time is an actual session.

Mrs. Johnson is an older, fifty- seven to be exact, married woman. She's an experienced and licensed therapist. I don't get any and vibes from her at all. I had to make sure of that by hanging around her. It's just like getting a bodyguard, you have to check out their vibes and how long you get along with them. I have to trust people A LOT to open up. Mrs. Johnson is a kindred spirit. She also reminds me of my dead grandmother in some ways.

"Okay... People who show up here have courage galore, perhaps even a tad bit of exasperation. If you don’t mind, I’m going to ask you some questions, and take notes about what you say so I can keep it fresh in my memory. Oh, and feel free to interrupt me at any time or steer the conversation to where you need it to go. In your mind, what is it exactly that brings you here to therapy?"

I started playing with my fingers. "I- umm... I've been dealing with... issues since adolescent years that are from childhood and early childhood. I don't know how to get rid of it- well, handle them. I know that I'll never be able to get rid of these problems." I explained to her.

"Yes, and I'm glad that you understand that you can't get rid of serious problems, but that you can heal from them. We'll start from the beginning. What's the earliest memory you have of yourself? What was your childhood like?" Ms. Johnson asked me.

"One of the earliest memories I have of myself is when I was asked by my mother what I wanted to be when I grow up. At that time I was two. My first answer was lawyer because my aunt was one then I changed my mind to wanting to be a robot." I laughed at the though. "No, actually I remember when I was one almost two and I remember having to lay on the floor due to them shooting outside. We lived in a horrible neighborhood at the time."

"Having to do that at such a young age, did it ever effect you?" She said after writing down in her book.

"Not to my knowledge. The only thing it prevented is us not being to go outside as much and staying at my aunts house at times." I shrugged and took a sip of my water.

"And your childhood?" She asked again.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I shook my head because didn't answer it the first time.

"No, that's okay. You're fine, there's nothing to apologize for." She chuckled. "You may continue when your ready."

"My childhood was good as far as I thought at the time. We were pretty poor but it never felt that way. My mother made it fun for us.  For my brother, cousins, and I. She was the fun and nice auntie. She'd create fun inside games and whatnot. I was attached to my mother, didn't want to be without her, not even for a second. While we were living in the house where we had to constantly be on the floor, all of my cousins and I were outside, I was on my tricycle, heard a lot of commotion, and stopped riding.

"It was a older man getting robbed at gunpoint by two guys, about four meters away from me. All of my other cousins and brother were playing with each other and I sat there watching everything that happened unfold between the gunmen and victim. When voices escalated my eldest cousin took notice of it, then rushed us to put the bikes in the house and then get in ourselves. That night I had dreamt about everything that had taken place, except it was in animation. I was three at the time." I finished that story.

"How did that situation effect you?" Mrs. Johnson asked me.

"I- I don't know. But, I did always wonder what happened to that man.  I remember looking across the street, wondering when he'd come out his house. I never saw him again after that." I shrugged.

"So it had a negative effect on you. You were a young child witnessing something so many others only witness on TV." She frowned at me.

"It wasn't the only thing that I had to be scared of. There were a few other instances." I explained to Mrs. Johnson

"Tell me about those times."

I nodded at her. "One day while we were living in that same house, we came back home to almost EVERYTHING in our house gone. The decorative pillow on the couch was even gone. My mother, brother, and myself would stay over at my aunt's house for a while. This particular day everything was just about gone, my mother was in tears. They even planned on coming back for the trashcan from our kitchen because it was sitting in the driveway. The suspected men came back twice after that occurrence.

"The first time they came back it was just one man at the door. Ot was the middle of the night and my cousins just so happen to be there with us and we were all in the living room watching television. The man knocked on the door and we were scared as heck. My mother just told us to keep quiet and the knocking stopped.

"The second time, it was just my mother and I. My brother wasn't there because my mother had him staying with my aunt on weekdays because him going to school in that area was dangerous. They don't provide buses for people who live in the area, and around the same time the kids were released from school, like clockwork the people on the block would have a shootout.

"I'm getting a little off topic so back to the story. It was just my mother and I home. There was a knock at the door and it was night time. The digital clock read 8:23. My mother looked out of the window and there were men with body bags at our door. My mother had to explain to me to stay COMPLETELY quiet. It was freezing cold and snowing, so my mother had to dress me and wrapped a blanket around my tiny body and left out the house from the back door quietly.

"She wasn't even appropriately dressed for the weather. She ran with me in her arms for a few blocks to Family Dollar, sliding down the icy ground and all. The store was closed but the workers saw how frantic she was and opened the doors for her and then the police were called. The police never caught them. Those stories that I just told, I was three and under but I still remember it like my favorite movie, scene for scene. That was scary, but we moved from that house before I turned four." I smiled.

"I notice you smile at the end of telling that story. Why is that?"

"My smiling is not out of amusement or anything, it just to keep my physical appearance intact. I in no way feel that way in the internally. I was taught that at a young age." I explained to her.

"Taught what? Explain to me what you were taught."

"To not show people that I'm weak or having a weak moment. In other words a disguise. My mother taught me that when they had my brother and I box and he knocked me across the room and into the shelf. My mother told me to not cry and I didn't. Although, I wanted to so bad because I was in pain. I was two or three then and my brother is almost a decade older than myself." I exhaled deeply.

"That sounds crazy. Why did your mother do that?"

"It wasn't supposed to go like that. At first we were all taking turns boxing cousins our age. Then it was suggested that I go against my brother. My mother told him to not hit me hard and he probably didn't hit me with all his strength but I do remember flying against the shelf." I laughed.

"Was that the last highlight of early childhood?"

I shook my head at her. "Gosh no... There are SO many more things that occurred in my life before the age of eight."

"Tell me about those times." She gestured.

"At this time I was five and my grandfather came over for a visit. They thought I was doing promiscuous things at aged five." I chuckled but not out of amusement. "AT FIVE YEARS OLD, can you believe that? My own mother. I was a child with no knowledge of what that was or what it meant. Anyways I had just gotten out the tub and I got dressed and I put lotion on my body like my mother had told me. Mind you, I'm fully dressed but I put lotion on my legs in front of the door so she could see that I was doing it. When he left, she beat me in my back and accused me of wanting to be seen by him." I shook my head at the thought.

"I was confused on what she meant so that hurt me even more. Now it's like, what was he doing there, around us children if he had that kind of history?" I swiped a falling tear. Mrs. Johnson held out a box of tissues and I pulled two out the box. "Thank you." I smiled once again.

"Your welcome. Did she ever tell you something he did?" She asked me.

"Umm- ye- yeah. He's a functioning drug addict and one day when my aunt; his child; my mothers older sister, visited him and he almost did some things to her but she got away in time. But she took what he did to her sister out on me and basically said I'm tempting him." More tears fell from my face and I sniffled due to the snot building up in my nostrils. "That wasn't the first time that something like that happened. It's not the same but it was similar." I closed my eyes trying to calm myself down.

"Take your time. Here." When I opened my eyes and she was holding the box of tissues. I grabbed some and watched the falling tears and blew my nose.

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, preparing myself to tell another part of my life. "I was four years old and a I was lying down on bed with my cousin. It wasn't unusual, just the norm. He began grinding his pelvis to my body, touching me, and whispering things and I yelled for him to stop but he kept going. I didn't know what was happening but I felt that it wasn't right. My heart sped up in fear, I fell off the bed and quickly ran into the living room where my mother and aunt; his mother were.

"I remember telling on him in a shaky voice because I was shocked,  didn't know what else to do, and didn't know what just happened They didn't believe me. They called him in the room, asked him, and of course he didn't admit to it. They blamed me, said I was lying and that was the end of that. We went back in the room and I sat in the corner alone. I think that is part of the reason that I didn't tell her when other and more sexual things happened to me." My face was soaked at this point and I was hyperventilating with hiccups. Everytime I have a hard cry, it happens.

Some people may not think it's not a big deal, but that little part of my life is probably a small reason on why I never told when others things occurred with my girl cousin. Every little story I tell adds up to how I became the woman that I am today. Parents often tell their children to come to them when you feel something isn't right, but when they do just that, they aren't believed or are blamed for it.

"Breathe." Mrs. Johnson coached me and I slowly turned back to  You're going to get through this." She said standing up and sitting her clipboard down.

I nodded. "Looks like our time today is up."

"Yes it does. Next time, you want to meet at your house, right?" She asked me.

"Yes, ma'am." I nodded and stood up. "Can I- can I clean myself up before I leave?" I pointed to the bathroom.

"Gon' 'head girl." She chuckled pointing to the restroom door.

I walked in the bathroom, cleaned my face up, and stared at my reflection. "Well, you started. Woman of your word. Took a while but you're here." I chuckled and threw the paper towels away. I walked out the bathroom, back into the room, and grabbed my things. "Thank you, bye Mrs. Johnson." I waved.

"Bye, have a nice day." She waved back.

I walked out the room and was met with Jax. He's the only one I brought with me today, the only time I brought one of my people. "Ya moms called your celly." He handed it to me. Jax has my phone because I gave it to him earlier to hold and just forgot it.

"You answered?"

"Mmhm, she thought it was you and shouted out that she was getting married. She was very enthusiastic. So much that I had to move the phone away from my ear." He laughed.

"Wow, okay... I'm finna call her back." I laughed shaking my head. The phone didn't even get the chance to completely ring once before she answered. "Hel-"

"I'm engaged! He proposed to me! I'm getting married!" My mother yelled out all in one breath.

"I know, ma." I chuckled. "Congratulations."

"You know!? You know and ain't tell me?"

"That defeats the whole purpose of a proposal. The whole purpose is to be surprised about it." I laughed at her. "He went to Yasir and I beforehand. I'm SO happy for you, mama!"

"Mmhm, lemme call ye aunt. BYE!" My mother yelled out and then I heard the dial tone.

I looked at the phone. "Well, that was quick." We got in the car and closed the door.

"I'm hungry, can we stop somewhere?" Jax asked me.

I nodded and started the car. "Where to?"

"Whatever you wanna go. Ion care, I'm just hungry."

"Alright, I'll just make sure to get the others something." I told him and pulled off.

September 15, 1993

~Devanté's P.O.V~

"You said you from North Carolina? What part?" I asked Jermaine.

"Yup, Fayetteville, but I was born in Frankfort, Germany." Jermaine replied to me.

Pac started laughing. "You grillin' this nigga hard. Relax, nigga. He ain't gon' get ya."

"A'ight then nigga. I'm just tryna see who in my house. My bad Cole. Ain't that what they call you?" I asked him.

"Yeah man that, J, or J. Cole."

"Yo rhymes dope as hell man." I really am impressed his rhymes remind me of Pac. "We should work together. Who you signed to?"

"I ain't signed yet but Interscope is interested and I'm lookin' inta that." He nodded.

"You ever thought about comin' to Da Bassment?" I asked him, trying to get him to sign to my label.

"Nahh, man. He said he just lookin' to be under Interscope." Pac shook his head at me. "You need to worry 'bout the people you already got under you playa." Pac slapped my shoulder. "When they gon' finally release some shit? I heard a few of y'all shit and it's dope as hell. A nigga just wonderin' when you comin' out with something under them. Shit, they probably is too."

"Don't worry 'bout my shit nigga." I chuckled. "We comin' out with some good shit. I just been dealin' with a lot of shit goin' on this year. Everything just fucked up fuh me." I shook my head.

"I feel you, but you still here and got people relying on you. Remember that them niggas got to feed they family. That's one of the reasons they there. They gifted and hungry. You know what's it like, you was there before, 'cept you had a silver spoon." Pac laughed.

"Silver spoon? Nigga what?" My head moved back.

"Hell yeah. Yo pops was in the music biz and had a church. That sounds like money to me. Shit, y'all was ballin'. You even had boffa yo parents." Pac shook his head.

"We had it financially, but was lackin' in other places. We wasn't allowed to do a lot of shit. Me and my brothers was sheltered from a lot of shit. We felt like the Jackson's. It was school, home, practice, church or both then right back home. I been workin' since I was a kid, tour and shit then. K-Ci and JoJo too, but they people was way more lenient than mines. That's why when we finally left for good we acted up. Tore that hotel room up, acted a damn fool." I laughed at the last part. "What you went through was tough, but don't compare that to mines." I told Pac.

"You ever had to sell a rock?" Pac asked me.

"Hell nahh. Like I said, we had it financially but lacked in many other areas. Parents was strict as fuck." I laughed shakin' my head.

"Exactly, nigga you had it good." Pac shit at me.

"I ain't have it good but I ain't ever sold no rocks or nothin' like that. I could have but I didn't. I focussed on ball and rhymes." Cole told Pac.

"Right, but you sold rocks for what? Two weeks nigga. Not even." I laughed. "Tryna pretend like you was in the skreets. Yo ass was too nice to sell drugs." I shook my head at him in amusement.

"What about you?" I asked Cole.

"Mama white, pops black. He was happy he met a white girl while in the army, knocked her up and had me. We moved to the U.S. when I was a baby. He left my mama and alone with two kids. My mama already had a kid before meetin' my pops and shit. I witnessed abuse in my home at a young age but step pops is gone. That nigga eventually left too. My story is similar to Pac here. I bump his shit all the time. This nigga a inspiration to what I write. Him and the greats who paved the way for people like Pac. That's my story and ain't no shame in it." Cole finished.

"Damn, we live and we learn." I said after listening to what he said.

"We all got a story and we can either turn that shit into somethin' good or stay in the same place. Even though many of us ain't got no choice. We got our chance, and we doin' somethin' about it and can help others do the same shit." Pac added on. "We pave the way like others did for us and accept with with open arms. Everybody need a chance."

"Everybody deserves a chance but many of us doomed before we make it out the womb." Cole told us.

"Yeah, we fortunate as fuck." I added on.

"Mhm, no truer words." Cole told us. "I bump a lil Jodeci too. Only when I'm with a girl though. Y'all shit go hard."

"Thanks man, we try. We be in the studio all the time." I told him.

"All the time? Nigga it took y'all a week to record y'all first album. You know how long it usually take to record a motherfuckin' album? Ion know but it's a long ass time, I tell you that." Pac pointed at me.

Cole started cracking up. "Funny as hell. Called his ass out on spot."

"We still work hard." I told them.

"Y'all do and I ain't taking that shit away from y'all. Y'all work hard as hell. All I'm sayin' is that y'all wasn't in there as long as y'all claim." Pac chuckled. "Niggas be lyin' like shit." He shook his head.

I opened the bottle and popped a pill. "We ain't, I admitted that it was a week in that interview we did."

Pac eyed me. "Aye man, don't you think you should slow down on that shit. This the second time I saw you pop on since we been at yo crib. Hell is that anyways?"

"I got a headache." I waved him off. "I'm cool man."

"Don't you think you should put that bottle down then? That ain't no good mix. You can die from that shit. If yo headaches that bad then you need to see a doctor or some shit."

"It's cool man. Don't worry 'bout it." I told him.

"A'ight, yo new crib is dope though. You go everybody livin' up in here though. All yo label people. How the hell do that shit work?" Pac said looking around.

"They live in my shit so it's do what I say or don't and get kicked out. They know that ion take no bullshit, that just ain't me." I took a puff of the blunt and passed it to Pac.

Pac snatched it from my hand. "You ain't gettin' this shit back nigga. You already popping pills like it's M&M's or some shit. Plus the liquor."

"Y'all over here drinking and smokin' too." I pointed out.

"Yeah, but WE-" He pointed to himself and Cole. "-ain't popping pills or got no headache like you claimin' to have."

"I do got a headache. Them nigga beat my shit in- PAUSE!" I stopped and started laughing.

"Hell nah, that shit sound wrong as hell." Cole said shaking his head at me.

"Them niggas fucked my head up, on some real shit." I took a swig of dark liquid.

"The more you talk, the more it sound like it's in slow motion. You look like you fucked up." Pac eyed me.

"You trippin', I sound normal." I shook my head at him.

"You talkin' in slow motion and yo movement are slow. They gettin' slower and slower since we been here." Cole butted in.

"Y'all tryna fuck with my head or somethin'. I'm good. I'm movin' and talkin' regular." I told them.

"This my second time seein' you and first time actually talkin' to you. Why would I wanna fuck with your head?" Cole asked me.

September 23, 1993

~Joel (JoJo) Hailey's P.O.V~

"You look like shit." Tiny looked at me. She had my daughter in her arms and my son attached to her leg.

"I feel like it. What you doin' here?" I frowned at her amd grabbed my son.

"You asked me to come the other day, remember? You gon' let me in?"

"Oh, ye- yeah. I did, and I forgot." I said. Damn, this ain't the right time. She cleared her throat. "Oh yeah, come on in. My security let you through?"

"Yeah, they said that you were expecting me. This place looks just like you; shit. What happened here!?" Her voice held pure disgust.

"Yeah, I just need my cleaner to come." I shrugged.

"Looks like you had a party to me." She spat.

"Daddy, birthday party." My daughter said to me.

Tiny raised her eyebrow. "What did you want to talk to me about that you couldn't say to me on the phone?"

"About my kids and us."

"You can't have the kids until-"

"Daddy had birthday party without us." My son pouted with his arms folded.

"Daddy didn't have a birthday party." I said and put him down on the floor.

"Mm." He pouted harder and walked away.

"You can't have me or the kids until you get yourself and this place together. You changed and not the good kind of change. I mean look at you, you look hung over right now." She raised her hand in the air, gesturing to myself and my place.

"Baby, I changed... For the better. I'm good and feeling good." I dusted my clothes off attempting to change my appearance.

"You don't look it. Even if we never get back together, I want the kids to have you still. But from the looks of it, you doing even worse than you was before. I had to scoot things over to even sit me and the kids down." She gestured toward the couch. "The smell in this place makes me want to vomit." She shook her head at me in disappointment.

"Look, what you expect when you take away a mans kids? I love my kids to death- even after death." I put my hand on my chest.

"Daddy, what this?" My son came to near his mom and I to show us what he had. It was a needle. What was it doing in my house? I don't know.

His mom slapped it out his hand. "And you say you changed. Look at that! My son had a dirty needle in his hand. It's dry blood on there. You hangin' with all these different type of industry people. You keep doin' that and you can forget about us! You got other kids, check in them!" She grabbed my son in her other arm and started walking off. She struggled because she still had my daughter in her arms.

"JoJo, what's taking you so long?" A couple of girls came into view.

Me and those ladies did some things last night during the little party I threw. I was drunk, K-Ci was drunk, Dalvin was drunk, and DeVanté was high when I saw him but he didn't come to the party. I saw De before the party when I went ove to his house.

"You got some nerve talking about an us. This is ridiculous. My children are not coming around until you come around correctly. Until you change the people you surround yourself with. You can only see them at my house, when I'm around, and when your sober. My kids don't need to see this shit." Tears flew down her face.

"I'm sorry." I weeped. "I-I fucked up an-an-and- and I'm sober. I'm good, look at me. Jus-just-"

"No JoJo. You are sick and you need help. You always fuck up. YOU ARE A FUCK UP. Bye." She struggled out of the door.

I grabbed my daughter from her but she fought to grab her hack from me. "You hungover, JoJo!"

"No, I'm helpin' you!" I gave her that look. "I'm hungover not drunk Tiny. Damn!"

"If you drop my daughter then that's yo ass!" She pointed at me and continued walking until she got to her car. She strapped my son in his car seat while I strapped my daughter in. I leaned in to kiss my daughter. "NO- DON'T- JOJO!"

"What? I can't kiss my kids goodbye. I ain't seen them in a while Tiny! They mine just as much as yours!" I yelled at her irritated.

"I don't know where yo lips been, JoJo!" She said through gritted teeth and slammed the back door shut.

I squinted at her. "Tiny-"

"Tiny nothing. You was just with women. WOMEN! PLURAL! DO NOT PUT YOUR FILTHY LIPS ON MY CHILDREN." She yelled at me again.

I smacked my lips and kissed my son on his forehead. "Fuck that shit. My kids too."

"I don't got time for this nigga today. NOT TUUHHDAYY LORD!" Tiny said from the drivers seat. "Close my door JoJo. Kids say bye to yo daddy."

"Bye dada." My daughter saud in her tiny voice.

"Bye daddy!" My son said cheesing amd waving at me. "Will you invite me to the birthday party next time?"

I nodded at him. "Bye little man, and mama." I waved at them and close the door shut. The minute the door shut, she sped off through the gates.

"SHIT!" I yelled up at the sky with my hands on my face. "Always fuckin' shit up! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" I ran back in my house and slammed the door shut.

Author's Note: Happy New Year to you all. I just had to add J.Cole to this story, it was always my plan to from jump. Chapters like these are HEAVILY edited to make a little more sense to viewers because detailing is important. Tia's finally in therapy though. Y'all been waiting on this since the beginning. Y'all happy? I am...

Word Count: 5,030

Please feel free to like and comment. Feedback gives motivation, and motivation urges me to continue to write.

Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to read another chapter of this story. Thank you for staying despite the slacking.💚🖤❤💜💙💛