It could all be so simple
But you'd rather make it hard
Loving you is like a battle
And we both end up with scars
Tell me, who I have to be
To get some reciprocity
No one loves you more than me
And no one ever will
-Lauryn Hill

2016

Ginger had not seen her "friends" in over a year and she was good without them. She did not want to give an interview about leaving Petite Trois, she did not want to talk to anybody about it, she was just done. Let them bitches talk about it and give their untrue side of the story.

People could not accept that it was over and they were all moving on. Some better than others, but she was finally living her life for her.

M'Liyah's solo album was released with critical acclaim. Of course, it did. It's what everyone wanted from the start. She was the new golden child. Not quite on Beyonce's level, but because she played the piano like Alicia Keys, that was her closest comparison, except she sang more hip danceable music and could dance. She also moved away from songs that Petite Trois had done in the past. Her songs were more sexy and romantic.

She must finally be getting dick, Ginger thought.

Melodie's television show, Superstar, was doing extremely well. Not that she cared, she would never watch it. Supposedly she was dating her co-star, the cutie Quincy Brown. She finally bagged a fine, rich brother. Getting rid of her loser half brother did her well. Last she heard from him, he was back in St. Louis trying to take care of his side chick's baby. 

As for her, not a damn thing. She was not even trying to look for a record deal. Fuck the business! It didn't treat her well, she was done with it.

At least she still had Craig.

"Babe, hop on this track with me and da Facts," Craig said while they were Facetiming.

"I told you, I don't do hooks."

"So you think you gone just throw your whole life away cause everybody out there doubting you and talking shit about you? I know you Gin Gin, that ain't you. You the mother fucking star, okay. You letting them take yo shine."

Fact Iz was already recording for their second album, Fact Iz This, and he was still bugging her about singing on "Ridin With My Chick." It was different from anything she had done with Petite Trois. It was not about riding in a car with your man, it was about riding on your man. It was so hood and so raw, like her real self, not the image she had to portray with Petite Trois.

"What the hell," she finally said.

"That's my girl. And babe, I want you raunchy as hell in dis joint, no sweet looking, good girl, PT shit. You better own it."

Being in the studio again after a year away, she felt at home. She didn't even care that it was going to be a Spitfire produced track. She was over him. He had not tried to reach out to her since he had her thrown in jail.

"What's good girl," Spitfire said, trying to hug her.

"Boy bye," she said, walking away from him and into the sound booth where Craig and Icee were. The rest of Fact Iz were watching from the studio.

"You cool?" Craig asked her, nodding toward Spitfire.

"Straight," she said, grabbing his blunt and taking a long inhale.

"Shit girl, I thought you didn't smoke while in the studio?"

"You said come different than when I was with PT. Nigga, I want to be faded when I lay this verse."

"Gin 'bout that life!" Icee said with a laugh. "I fucks with you girl!"

Baby, I love it when you ride it, ride it, ride it
Lemme just bust inside it, inside it, inside it!
Ridin' wit' my chick, come on get on this dick
Imma lick, she gone lick, that's just how we click
Ridin' wit' my chick, she say I got dat good dick
Finta hit it, lick and stick, that's how you lay good brick

The song was dope, she told no lies. Craig wrote most of it, with Icee adding the hook that she sang, and he had some adlibs. She felt in her element again. This was what she was supposed to be doing. She should not have let anyone else tell her otherwise. M'Liyah and Melodie doubted her. Spitfire did not believe in her. Sometimes she did not believe in herself.

That shit was over. It was all about her.

"That might be y'all first single," Spitfire said when they were walking out the booth. "Y'all was right in pocket with that one."

"Man, we only bring da heat," Craig said.

"Yeah, having Gin on that was dope. It's different for you girl, but you been a ghost, the people want to hear from you," Spitfire said.

"You can thank my man for that," she said, putting her arm around Craig. She wanted it to be crystal clear she had moved on from him. They still were not flaunting their relationship everywhere but the fellas knew they were an item.

She dared Spitfire to say anything. It never got out about the two of them. The girls never told anyone, so no one else knew.

"Gin, hang out with me for a sec, I have something to discuss with you."

Of course, this dude wanted to start some shit.

"We ain't got nothing to say to each other."

"Naw Gin Gin, chat wit' yo boy," Craig said. "I ain't stressing." He kissed her. "Don't burn no bridges," he said, then left with the guys.

She was sure Spitfire was going to try and sweet talk her into something. She was over him, but he used to have a stronghold on her.

"You sound real good baby," he said.

"I ain't yo baby."

"You're always gonna be my baby."

"Hell no, I'm not."

"He ain't hitting it right, not like I do."

"Boy, fuck you," she said, trying to walk out, but he held her arm.

"Naw Gin, my bad, I'm sorry. Just that, you were sounding good and you look good, and my dick got hard seeing you."

"Work that out with one of your hoes."

"See, I wasn't even going to go there with you, I was going to talk business. The past is the past right? You ain't been in a studio in a minute, and I know you miss it."

"Yeah, so?"

"We make great music together."

"We don't anything. You and Petite Trois made great music. I guess you making great music for M'Liyah, she swept the Grammys. But we?"

"That could be you next. You know if I work with you, and this new sound you laid out with the Facts, we can make some hits."

"So what are you saying?"

"Come back and sign with me."

"Humph!" She crossed her arms across her chest. "After how you did me dirty?"

"Come on baby, I was wrong. You got the potential. You need to be back up in that booth making music. It's what you do."

She did miss it. And Spitfire was one of the best to ever do it.

"Let me think-"

Then he started kissing her.

"I missed you."

And then she fell into her old ways

****************

After fucking Spitfire, she met up with Craig and the Facts and they celebrated a successful recording session at her place getting drunk and high. She felt so guilty about what she did with Spitfire, she didn't even want Craig to touch her, she kept pushing him away.

"I luh you ma, what's wrong?"

"Can I just chill? I'm tired," she said, walking away from him.

"A'ight," he said, sitting back on the couch. He grabbed something out of his pocket.

When she turned to look at him, he was snorting something up his nose. She freaked out, jumping up and pushing him.

"Craig! You're doing coke now?"

"Babe, chill. You don't wanna fuck, I need to keep my high going."

"How long you been doing that shit?"

"Baby, stop yelling."

"Craig! What else are you doing? How much of that shit are you doing?"

"You gone nag me? I said it's cool. Come here and tell me you love me," he said, pulling her on his lap. He started kissing her neck and put his hand between her thighs. "I'm horny as fuck."

"I don't like you like this," she said, pushing him off her, then standing up. "I'm going to bed. You sleep out here."

She went to her room took off her wig and make-up, then her clothes, and went to the bathroom to take a shower. She was washing her hair when Craig bust in, naked, and jumps in the shower with her.

"Girl, look! I want some pussy."

"No!"

"Tell me you didn't fuck him."

"What are you talking about," she said, rinsing her hair.

"That motherfucker Spitfire. When we left, did you fuck that nigga? You still fucking him?"

"Boy, get yo high ass outta here."

"Come on Gin, tell me you ain't playing me for a fool with that man. I saw how he was looking at you. He gotta mother fuckin hold on yo lil ass."

She cut the shower off and got out. She was not having this conversation with him while he was fucked up. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body and then another for her hair.

Craig got out and grabbed her.

"Gin Gin, I love you! You wanted me to say it, I said it. You know you the only one for me. This fucking business makes muh'fuckas crazy. That nigga got the power over you since you were a little kid. He uses that power over you to control you, keep you for himself. What did he offer you, a solo deal?"

"Yes."

"Baby you don't need him! You're Ginger mother fuckin' Hollands, you can get a deal wherever you want, you just too scared to try. Baby, don't get back with that man. He doesn't love you like I do."

She looked down at the floor.

"I don't know if I love you like that Craig."

"Unh-hun, yeah," he said.

"I mean, I do love you Craig...but me and Spitfire..."

"That's not love Ginger!"

"But the shit won't go away!" She started to cry and he held her. "Craig, you're such a great guy. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Ma, I just want you to see I'm the better man for you. You want me to give up this fame shit for you? The shit don't mean a thing being on top if I ain't got somebody that loves me by my side like you. Everybody wants a piece of me. I can't breathe sometimes. I feel so alone baby, except when I'm with you."

"Craig, come on, let's go to bed. We've had a long day," she said, leading him to the bed.

They did not even have sex that night, just held each other and fell asleep

If only she could have seen the deep depression Craig was really in.