𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟮 𝗠𝗬 𝗨𝗡𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡 ━━━━━ 𝘁𝘂𝗽𝗮𝗰 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗿.

022.

𝖨𝖭𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖥𝖫𝖠𝖲𝖧𝖡𝖠𝖢𝖪 . .

tupac's pov ⸻ clinton correctional facility !

     TUPAC'S HANDS TREMBLED as he held the letter from Sanai, his eyes scanning each word with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The dim, flickering light in his prison cell cast eerie shadows on the worn-out pages as he immersed himself in her words, a hope to a world beyond the cold steel bars.

"Dear Tupac, I know it's been a while since we last spoke or even saw one another."

The familiarity of her words became a time machine, transporting Tupac back to the short days of shared laughter, passionate arguments, and the warmth of her presence, the way her body felt against his even though it was only one night, the way she made him feel. The harsh realities of the prison cell seemed to blur, replaced by short time they spent together.

The prison walls, with their cold and soul-breaking environment, melted away as Tupac absorbed the warmth in Sanai's words. The notion that someone beyond the bars of the penitentiary still held him in their thoughts sparked a fragile flame of hope.

"I'm writing this letter because I want to be on good terms with you. We don't have to be close at all, but just to know you don't hate me would be great. :)"

A small smile crept across Tupac's face at the playful smiley face. It was a gentle reminder of the relationship they once shared, a time before complications and mistakes broke their connection.

"I'm 6 months along in my pregnancy, and it gets a little difficult at times. I want my child to know its father, but it's hard when I haven't heard from you in so long."

The weight of responsibility settled on Tupac's chest. The truth of impending fatherhood, a role he had been absent from just like his own father was, created a mix of guilt and determination. The silence of the cell was broken only by the distant echoes of memories.

The fact of her moving on hit Tupac with a pang of jealousy, the fact that she had found someone else other than him to love her, although he was the one who really broke things apart, he was the one to blame but he couldn't deny the sense of pride for Sanai's resilience.

As Tupac reached the end of the letter, he felt a sense of vulnerability. The invitation, the understanding, and the genuine effort to communicate grew a spark of hope within him. His hands tapped against the letter, if there was anyone who he wanted to reach out to him it was her.

The worn-out pages, marked by time and the harsh prison environment, held the weight of their shared history, and the possibility of growing back together and reconnection glowed in the dimness of his cell. He was going to make this work out somehow, even if there was a distance between the two of them. If this baby really truly is his, he needs to be there.

              I step into Suge Knight's office at Death Row Records, the familiar beats and melodies filling the air. The door was slightly open, signalling that he was available for a conversation. As I enter, the room seemed to absorb the echoes of the lively atmosphere outside.

Suge, a huge figure sits behind his desk cluttered with paperwork and demo tapes, appearing to be doing something. His attention wasn't immediately on me, and confusion crept over me until I notice two other women in the room.  It was then the shuffling and sighs began to make complete sense. They exchange glances, and I divert my eyes, understanding everything.