Dre Day

Friction

February 1994

Jade POV

As the early February sun spilled across the set of The Lady of Rage's music video shoot, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. I stood beside Dre, watching him direct the scene with a meticulous eye. The air was alive with the beats of "Afro Puffs," the track where T.A. had lent his lyrical prowess alongside The Lady of Rage.

T.A. strutted around, his confidence matched only by his talent. But something was off today. I sensed it in the stiff nods and guarded glances between Dre and T.A., the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

I edged closer to Dre during a break in shooting, my curiosity piqued by the uneasy energy between them. "Everything alright, Dre?" I asked, my voice pitched low.

He glanced at me, a fleeting look of concern crossing his usually composed expression. "Yeah, just some minor label stuff to sort out, nothing to worry about."

But I could read between the lines. T.A. had been questioning, probing about his due credit and earnings from his work. Dre's reassurance sounded hollow, almost strained, like there was more to it than he let on.

I sidled over to T.A. as he leaned against a speaker, his gaze fixed somewhere between frustration and contemplation. "Hey, T.A., you good?"

He shot me a half-smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, just trying to figure some things out, you know?"

The conversation drifted to the heart of his unease – money, credit, his stake in the label, and the promises made about his album. His words crackled with a mix of frustration and uncertainty, painting a picture of unfulfilled assurances.

I caught Dre's eye from across the set, his brow furrowed in concern. He strode over to us, a composed facade masking the brewing storm beneath. "T.A., we'll get this sorted, I promise."

But T.A. wasn't easily swayed. "I've heard that before, Dre. What's really going on?"

Their exchange escalated, voices kept low but laden with the weight of unspoken grievances. Dre attempted to pacify, to reassure, but T.A.'s skepticism remained unyielding. The promises seemed hollow against the backdrop of doubts sown by past discrepancies.

"I've put in the work, Dre. I need to know where I stand," T.A. insisted, his words tinged with a raw edge of frustration.

Dre's jaw tightened, his resolve palpable. "I'll handle it, T.A. Trust me."

But trust was a fragile thing, especially in an industry where promises often evaporated like morning dew. T.A. nodded, but his eyes held a glint of skepticism, a lingering doubt that hung heavy in the air.

The scene resumed, the cameras rolling once more, but the unresolved tension lingered, casting a shadow over the creative energy of the set. I couldn't shake the feeling that this was far from over.

As the day wore on, I stood by Dre's side, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air, wondering if promises made would be promises kept, or if the rift between them would deepen, leaving behind a trail of broken trust and unresolved issues.

The set buzzed with activity as the Lady of Rage took a break, her infectious laughter filling the air. She wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a conversation about the latest fashion trends and the quirks of navigating the male-dominated rap scene. Her energy was contagious, momentarily lifting the weight of the brewing tension between Dre and T.A.

"Jade, girl, have you seen these outfits they want us to wear for the next scene? Wild! But you know what, we'll rock it anyway," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.