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

060.

' TUE , JUNE 2ND 1996. '
tupac and sanai's residence ⸻
calabasas , california !

     AS I SIT IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT of my car, I catch a glimpse of Zahir in the rearview mirror. He's babbling to himself, his tiny hands grasping at the air, his eyes filled with the innocent wonder of a child. My heart swells with love, and I can't help but smile. He has no idea how much he means to me, how he's become the center of my world.

But today, as we head to his doctor's appointment, I can't help but be reminded of the effort and time it takes to raise an infant with someone you're not together with.

I'm lost in thought when I hear a knock on the window, snapping me back to the present. I turn my head to see Tupac standing outside, flashing that familiar grin of his, teeth gleaming and eyes sparkling.

I let out an audible sigh but am unable to resist the small smile that grows on my lips. I unlock the door, and he slides into the passenger seat, immediately turning to Zahir with a smile that's all warmth and love.

"You ready?" he asks, his tone easy but with that underlying tension we both feel. Tupac was acting a little more different more flirtatious, but that was usual to his nature. "Sorry I came a lil' late I had some shit to sort out . . been real busy lately."

"I can tell, you had me waiting in this car for a good thirty minutes," I say, returning his smile through a chuckle of disbelief. "Thought I was gonna have to go to the door to get you out."

"I'm sorry but you good though . . you got the sun roof open and you driving in style," Tupac replies voice sincere and playful, "But I'm here for this appointment."

"Right," I agree, turning the key in the ignition and pulling out of the driveway. The car ride is quiet, aside from Zahir's occasional giggles and his little baby sounds from the backseat. I glance over at Tupac a few times, wondering what he's thinking.

As I pulled out of the driveway, the car fell into an uneasy silence. The soft hum of the engine and Zahir's occasional babbles from the backseat filled the quiet, but it wasn't enough to dispel the tension hanging between Tupac and me. I kept my eyes on the road, but I could feel his presence beside me, a familiar weight that made my chest tighten.

Tupac shifted in his seat, adjusting his chain as he glanced out of the sunroof. The early morning light filtered through, casting a warm glow across his face. I noticed the way his fingers tapped a rhythm against his knee—awkward energy that matched the tension in the car. I wondered what he was thinking, but I kept my thoughts to myself, things were still getting back to normal.

Finally, Tupac broke the silence. "So how you been treating yourself?" His tone was casual, but there was a hint of something deeper in his voice, something that made my grip on the steering wheel tighten.

I kept my eyes on the road, "Good I'm a lot happier now, got myself together." Tupac nodded slowly, his gaze fixed ahead. "That's cool. It's good you deserve it."

I glanced at him briefly before turning my attention back to the road. "Yeah, but I hope to hear you been fine . . must be different being a rapstar now." Tupac chuckles at my words leaning back into his seat, catching a glimpse at me. "I mean it's good . .  the parties event and the money . . performing is something else seeing the fans enjoying my shit feelin' my energy."

I smile at his words, noticing his passion for his work and craft. "That's good to hear, you deserve it." I tell him and it's almost then I feel the energy in the car shift, as if my words had touched him, words he longed to hear after all the hard-work he's put in.