! BOOK ONE OF THE NAS TRILOGY !
In building 40-16 of Queensbridge North Housing, Nasir Jones steps up as the man of the house. Looking after his mother and brother, Jabari, he's hungry for a way out. His back is against the wall after the loss of hi...
Nasir threw his beeper at the wall as he screamed with a hoarse voice. Still sweaty from his performance, Jungle took Destined out of the dressing room. I could hear our boy asking his uncle 'Is daddy okay?' with a small, concerned tone. One that an almost three year old shouldn't know of.
I looked at Wiz, one of Nasir's closest childhood friends and hype man on this tour he was playing in America. He sighed and pulled his skully over his temple in distress.
"This wasn't how it was supposed to go!" Nasir yelled with such rasp that his voice was cracking. "We were supposed to do shit together, you know what I'm sayin'?" I saw a tear fall from his eye as he paced manically around his dressing room.
There wasn't much that I could say. We were all hoping that Pac would pull through from the shooting that took place in Vegas. Nasir and I actually flew out there to pay him a visit, but the night we landed happened to be the night he was shot.
"What the fuck, yo?" His voice was fading in and out as he vented his frustration. The red leather strap on his overalls were falling over his shoulder as he fell to his knees. His face was concealed by his hands as he cried to himself silently.
I rushed to be by his side. I crouched low to his level and rubbed his back soothingly. I didn't say a word because words in this moment wouldn't change the fact that Tupac was no longer living.
Nasir was so strong during his performance after Ed Lover came out to address the crowd to announce his passing. He continued the show as if his feelings were Teflon. He didn't crack, fold or show signs of weakness on that stage. Instead, he gave it his all and then some.
But the moment he saw me and Destined waiting for him backstage in his dressing room, he unleashed his true feelings about the situation. He was worse than me when it came to exploding emotions after keeping them bottled up for so long.
I continued to comfort my fiancé with physical touch as he sobbed silently, sniffling into his palms. "Shit, man!" He yelled into his bare hands. All I could do was watch him let it all out.
Wiz left us alone as he quietly closed the door behind himself. Nasir's body trembled beneath my hands as he sobbed for a man that he had respect for. A man that didn't deserve his life taken that way and certainly too soon.
I replayed Pac's wink in my direction on the sands of Santa Monica in my head. I wouldn't have guessed that would be the last time I'd see Pac alive. I thought about how Kidada must feel right now. I couldn't imagine losing Nasir. Not right now. Not ever.
I sat on the floor with my legs spread apart. Nasir nestled his body between them, resting his waves on my chest as I rubbed his head gently. He sniffled over my chest as he continued to cry.
We sat on the floor of his dressing room for at least ten minutes. You could hear a pin drop.
Nasir | November 1996
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