"Stance on lean, leg up on the wall..." Aubrey was writing in his notebook ideas for his latest song he was trying to get off the ground. He was planning on making a mixtape and sending it to his idol, Lil Wayne. He was determined to be discovered and get rich and famous.
"Aubrey, did you get my email?" Jade said as she walked in the house. Aubrey looked over at her and saw that she had yet another new bag in her hand.
"Babe, I told you that we can't afford things like that right now," Aubrey sighed , closing his notebook.
"For your information, I got this money from a bonus from work. That's my hard-earned money. I can do whatever the fuck I want with it!" she snapped. She was a girl, and was going to get what she wanted however she had to get it. "Damn, always clocking my pockets. While you looking at what I got you NEED to be looking in the classifieds for a job instead of writing ya lil raps in that notebook." She said, tossing his notebook to the side.
"I'm tired of you disrespecting me, J. Look, I'm not clocking your pockets. I'm just saying we should share it, Ever dime I get I'm splitting it with you." he explained. Though this girl irked his last nerve, he still loved her with every fiber of his being. He picked up his notebook and dusted it off. She rolled her eyes.
"No one said you had to share with me, that was your decision. We have different mindsets, Aub. I'm going upstairs, now. But a word of advice: If you want to get little bonuses like me, put down the notebook and pick up a resume and get a JOB!" she said, storming upstairs. He shrugged it off.
"It's alright, it's just one of her bad days. Must have had a tough day down at the office for her," he thought to himself. A few days later, he went and recorded all of his songs.
A Year Later
Dwayne Carter sat in his studio, listening to all the mixtapes he had gotten that week. People sent him mixtapes of their music all day everyday. it got annoying, but he had to deal with it. His father declined mostly all of them all the time.
"Dad, I don't understand why we have to listen to all of these mixtapes all fucking day, like, they music is wack!" Wayne grumbled, resting his head on his fist.
"I know, I know. But you gotta give em a chance. Not everyone has the priveledge of having Birdman, founder of Cash Money Records as a father," he chuckled, moving on to the next mixtape.
"Let's see... we got one from uh... Aubrey "Drake" Graham from Canada," he said. Wayne laughed out of his mind.
"What kind of pussy name is Aubrey?! Sound like a female. NEXT!" He said, leaning back in his chair. Bryan sighed and looked at his son.
"Stop being so damn obnoxious, son. Give him a chance, man. He could be the new face of young money," he huffed. Wayne crossed his arms and looked away from his father. Although he was a grown man, he was still a brat. He pressed play on the mixtape and listened to the next wannabe rapper. Wayne sat up in his seat and listened intently.
"Yo, I kinda like him," Wayne said, bobbing his head to the music. Bryan laughed.
"What happened to he has a pussy name?" he chuckled. Wayne shook his head, "Nevermind that, this nigga dope! When he send that in?!" Bryan looked down at the mixtape and widened his eyes. "2007. This mixtape been here for a whole fucking year, B." Wayne rubbed his chin and saw a return number.
"Think it's the same?" he asked.
"Only one way to find out." Wayne shrugged, grabbing the phone to dial the number.
