Chapter One: Me, Myself, and I

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JUNIPER POV

Hi! My name is Juniper Michael DeGrate. I was born August 29, 1990, which happens to be the same birthday as the King of Pop: Michael Jackson! My father is Donald DeGrate a.k.a DeVante Swing, who was the musical mastermind of the greatest R&B group ever: Jodeci! He was deeply in love with my mother, Nevis. She was white, which was a real issue back in those days. They met as little kids and dated all throughout high school. She was a straight-A student and he was a cutup. Nevertheless, my mother believed in his dreams of being a music producer/singer and that made him all the more ambitious. 

Everything was perfect until I was nine months old. On May 11, 1991, my mother was driving home from the grocery store when she was hit by a drunk driver. The car swerved out of control, flipped over five times, killing my mom instantly. Daddy wasn't the same after that.....he remained a single man for some time, raising me the best he could. When I was three, Daddy and I moved to New York, and whilst we were at  2 Bros Pizza Parlor, he met a woman named Renee. She was very nice to me too, and treated me well alongside her other children:

1. Ricky Black (born July 5, 1981) 

2. Erika Black  (born September 19, 1986)

3. Rakim Mayers (born October 3, 1988)

They dated for two years and Daddy asked Renee to marry him, which she accepted. On April 2, 1995 my Dad and Renee got married in a huge church wedding. I was almost five. Everyone got along for the most part, except Ricky and Daddy. This was partially because my Dad was twelve years younger than him, and Ricky felt that because he was just a stepdad, he couldn't really tell him what to do. Every rule Daddy made, Ricky broke. He was firm but fair to all of us. The same ass whoopings I got, Ricky, Erika, and Rakim got. This caused tensions between Rakim's father, Adrien Mayers. He felt that he had no right because Rakim wasn't his child. 

Aside from that, Renee doted on me. I was one of her own children. Whenever she took me out, it wasn't like "Oh, she's my stepdaughter." It was more so "This is my daughter." Although I appreciated her, part of me missed my mother. There's not a day that goes by I don't think of her, but I know that if she were alive, she'd be more than grateful to Renee for raising me. 

It's all about family, right?



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