King of Queens (a Nas Story)

FORTY FIVE

Gia | 1:31pm PST

"Yo, Gia!"

A male's voice called out to me. I was lying on a beach towel with my legs stretched. Stacy was tanning beside me with her Celine glasses covering half of her face. I propped myself on my elbows and squinted at the figure that was walking up to me.

The California sun was beating down on us both, especially the man in the short sleeve shirt that I could make out. The closer he got, the sooner I realized who it was. Stacy lowered her frames to get a better view of him and turned towards me.

"Oh shit!" She said between us before the man crouched down low, bending his knees. He tilted his head in front of me and smiled.

"What's up?" Tupac balled his right fist into his left palm. His smile was bright and friendly, the complete opposite of what he had been saying about Nas and Biggie in the papers.

"You tell me." I sat up completely, straightening my spine and crossing my legs on the beach towel. I pushed my Versace frames up to my eyes and over the bridge of my nose.

Tupac looked behind my shoulder as he scanned Stacy's frame while she lied flat on her beach towel to tan. "How you doing?" Tupac asked flirtatiously to Stacy. "I'm doing AZ. Thanks for asking." She dismissed Tupac's advances and rolled over on her stomach to rest her head over her folded arms.

"Damn, it's like that?" He turned his gaze back towards me. "Oh, absolutely!" I said sarcastically with a smile on my face. A smile that wasn't so friendly as it appeared.

"What's this I'm hearing about Nas?" I asked him straight up. He laughed as he stroked the mustache above his lip. "I'm not here to talk about him. I'm here to talk about you, baby." Tupac said, pressing his luck a little too hard.

"Pac, I appreciate how you held Nas down back at the Tunnel. But, we don't have shit to talk about until you two sort whatever this is out." I said as I pointed my neon orange acrylics in his direction.

"You know I held that shit down for you, right Gia?" He licked his lips as he studied my frame. I rolled my eyes beneath my dark lenses and sighed.

"What are you really doing here? If you came to flirt, there's some women down at the pier that would love to fuck with you." I snapped at him as I tucked my blunt cut behind my left ear.

"Look, baby. I see you holding that fake ass nigga down. I respect that." Tupac took a seat next to me on my beach towel as his clothed shoulder touched my arm. "I've been peeping you out for a while. Since that album signing." He said into my ear. I jerked away from him off of natural instinct.

His cologne was Acqua Di Gio, a familiar scent that was popular amongst my peers and a gift I had given to Nasir. I was no stranger to the scent. In fact, it made me miss Nasir even more the closer Tupac had gotten to me.

"Back your ass up." I said as I put my palm out to stop him from leaning in even closer.

"Don't you have a fiancé?" I tilted my head slightly as I pointed to his tattoo. It was of a crown and underneath it read 'DaDa' in bold lettering. A nickname for Quincy Jones' daughter, Kidada. We had met briefly at New York Fashion Week last autumn. She was a beautiful woman and respected highly.

"I should tell her what your fast ass is doing on this beach the next time I see her." I said as I laughed at Tupac's failed attempt to take me away from Nasir. He was only pressing me like this because he felt that Nasir dissed him on his song 'The Message'. I guess when Nasir is calling out fake thugs in New York, the shoe fits Tupac perfectly.

"I see what you're doing. You have a thing for girlfriends and wives." I pointed my finger in his face. "Didn't you say you fucked Faith on that diss track you dropped?" I snapped my fingers as I tried to think of the song's title. "Hit 'Em Up!" I yelled out as I laughed at how distasteful Tupac was moving.