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

029.

' TUES , JUNE 24TH 1995. '
jasmine's residence ⸻
los angeles , california !

     AT THE COMFORT OF THE APARTMENT a new feeling fills the complex with a new and different energy, as Zahir, the newest member of the family joined the space. Balloons from the hospital alongside many gifts fill the living room as the comforting smell of home-cooked meals is in the air.

Jasmine she stands in the kitchen making us something to eat. In the space of the open living room Zahir sits in his adorable baby sleeper, clothed in his soft onesie after having his bath. "Tyrell, can you pass me the baby blanket?" I ask him, he passes me a blue blanket and I prepare a little nook for Zahir.

Zahir, cradled in his onesie, blinks up at the world with innocent curiosity. His eyes are adorable and seeing the way he interacts with the new world around me makes me all gushy on the inside.

It's been a week since I gave birth and I'm still adjusting to being a mother and not being pregnant anymore, the aftercare is annoying and a little painful, but being able to just see and appreciate my son makes it all worth it.

"He so adorable." Tyrell utters, watching as Zahir's eyes flutter in response to the sounds. I nod my head my eyes still admiring him, "He really is, ain't here?" I carefully wrap Zahir in the blue blanket, his tiny fingers peeking out as he continues to explore the world with his innocent gaze.

I nod, placing Zahir gently in his makeshift nook. "Who do you think he looks like?" I shout over towards Jasmine who's busy in the kitchen, she glances over, a spatula in hand, and smiles. "Well . . he's got Tupac's eyes, Sanai. But he has your hair."

Tyrell smiles playfully, "Good job babe . . he has her hair." Jasmine rolls her eyes at his words and I laugh at the joke. As Jasmine continues her cooking, she chimes in, "Am I not right, he's got curly hair look."

I glance at Zahir, who seems obviously unaware of us talking about him. "He's a handsome boy." I mutter towards him. Tyrell picks up a baby bottle and hands it to me. Jasmine, finishing up in the kitchen, joins us in the living room. "You know . . does Tupac know that you given birth?"

I pause, a shadow crossing my face. "I haven't . . I didn't get the chance to at all." I admit, Jasmine turns to look towards me with widened eyes upon my words, I shrug my shoulders, siting next to Zahir in his small sleeper. She turns to look at me. "We'll we better call him and tell him then, you had him waiting all this time course he gotta know."

The room falls silent as I dial the number for the correctional facility where Tupac is currently incarcerated. I place the phone towards my ear as I listen carefully waiting for the phone to be picked up. After a few moments, a stern voice answers, "Correctional Facility, how may I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Sanai, and I need to speak with Tupac Shakur, please," I request, my voice steady despite the excitement and slight nervousness beneath the surface. There's a brief pause before the voice responds, "Please hold for a moment." Soft jazz music plays through the line as I wait, glancing at Jasmine and Tyrell, who sit beside me, offering silent support.

We all wait for the phone to be picked up, tiredly I glance towards Zahir who sleeps quietly, different from the cries he'd been making all day and night. My eyes land onto Jasmine, only to find her watching me to see if he'd picked up yet.

Finally, the static-laden voice of Tupac comes through the line, "Who's this?" "It's Sanai," I reply, my voice carrying a mix of emotions. I don't say anything, but I'm able to feel the excitement grow within him over the line of the phone.