sǝlɔᴉuoɹɥƆ

27

Chapter Eleven

December 25th, 2002

Las Vegas

Tao's

The crowd at Tao's nightclub is electric, pulsing with energy as the night deepens. It's a far cry from the usual family-centric birthday parties at Neverland. This year, I convinced Dad to let me have a huge charity event in Vegas instead—a celebration that's as glamorous as it is meaningful.

"Happy birthday, Bibi!"

The chorus of cheers echoes through the VIP section, and I can't help but grin. The club is packed, but the VIP area is reserved for my closest friends and family. I'm surrounded by people I love. It feels like a dream. In a few minutes, I'll head down to the main floor for a meet-and-greet with fans who've been waiting for hours just to catch a glimpse of me. It's overwhelming in the best way.

Prince didn't come to the party—he's never been one for big crowds—but he flew in with me to celebrate. I'm sure he has something up his sleeve for later. The thought of whatever surprise he might have planned makes my heart race with anticipation.

My thoughts are interrupted by my father's voice booming over the sound system. "Attention! Attention, everyone!"

The music fades, and the crowd quiets instantly. When my dad speaks, people listen.

"I would just like to thank everyone for coming out to not only celebrate my oldest daughter's birthday but also to support a cause close to our hearts. I'm thrilled to announce that all of the donations received tonight have been counted, and we've raised over a million dollars for the Las Vegas Children's Hospital!"

The applause is deafening. I clap along, feeling a swell of pride. When we decided to ask guests to donate to charity instead of bringing gifts, I never imagined we'd raise this much. It's a testament to the generosity of everyone here, and it makes the night that much more special.

"And now, as the clock strikes midnight," my dad continues, "I'd like to start off the musical part of the show. If you don't mind, I'd like to begin with a little song I wrote a few years after Bibi was born. It's called 'You Are My Life.'"

I step out onto the balcony overlooking the stage, eager to watch him perform. This song is one of my favorites, a beautiful reminder of the bond we share. The memories flood back as he begins to sing, his voice carrying the familiar melody that has always touched my heart.

The song is You Are My Life. A song that has taken legs over the years. As the final notes of my dad's song fade, I wipe away the tears that have gathered in my eyes. The crowd erupts in applause, and I cheer the loudest, feeling a rush of love for the man who has always been my rock.

"Happy birthday, Bianca. I love you," my dad says into the microphone, his voice filled with emotion. "And now, let me introduce your next surprise act. One of your best friends who may or may not have said he couldn't make it tonight."

The opening beat of "I Get Around" fills the club, and my heart skips a beat. A huge grin spreads across my face. Only one person could be behind this—Tupac.

"Give it up for my homegirl Bibi Jackson!" Pac's voice rings out, and the crowd goes wild. He steps onto the stage, looking as cool as ever, and starts rapping, his energy infectious. I can't help but sing along, caught up in the excitement.

Pac's performance is everything I hoped for and more. He's charismatic, engaging the crowd like only he can, and I'm reminded once again why he's one of my closest friends. As the song comes to an end, he turns to the audience, his hand over his heart.