|september 4th, 1996
I hate these fucking rooms. I always have. Their dark, cold and anybody can see hear and see...whatever you do in here. It's a snitch, they are cameras and voice recorders every where, shit..there might be a camera inside of this dull, nasty ass coffee they gave me. That's why I haven't took one sip from it, nor have I spoken since I've been here. And I've been here for a whole week.
There was a loud creak coming from the door and I craned my neck to see where the flash of sunlight was coming from. I squinted my eyes, trying to figure it who it was. Once the door closed and the sunlight disappeared as quick as it appeared, I gave up on my attempt; trying to figure out who the intruder was. I leaned back in the chair and resumed the position I was in, before the light flashed on. I shielded my eyes from the pain it would endure if I let my eyes absorb the brightness.
"Mr. Shakur," I groaned once I realised who the voice belonged too. I didn't even have to open my eyes to see who it was, that annoying ass voice was enough recognition. I'd heard it enough throughout my life and I really don't feel like hearing it now. But..based on what I've done and did, I have no choice but to listen.
"How are you?" I opened my eyes to see that ugly ass smirk on his face, one that I badly wanted to beat off. One that I hated. One that I'm so used to, that when it comes in sight..I burst into tears because I know something or someone valuable to me will be taken away from me.
"Bad then a muthafucka'," I spat, kicking up my feet upon the weak, worn out table as he laughed. "I need to get out of hea'." I said, glancing up at him.
"Really? What's the rush?" He looked over at me as if he were concerned, while he took a seat across from me. "Don't you want to talk to your old pal?" He asked with a sarcastic smile.
I returned the smile before replying. "Nah, yo' wife just called and told me to hurry up...she got some loose pussy waiting for me." I remarked, glancing over at him. I smiled once I seen his pale skin transform into a light red.
His uptight facial expression gave me such delight. "Very. Funny. But we are here to discuss business, not my wife's--"
"Loose, ran through and in-need-of-a-water-hose-pussy." I interrupted him, folding my arms.
His sick laugh filled the room, causing me to roll my eyes. "Funny man, you should take your little act on the road...I know what you're trying to do. But it's not gonna work. Lets just jump into this, so we can be done. I can go home and you can leave."
I pursed my lips together and could sense the fuckery in his voice. "I ain't telling you shit, Wilmore," I mumbled.
"Welp, it would be nice if you would," he sighed before he pulled up his briefcase on the table. He popped it open and brought papers out and pictures along with him, pictures that I prayed I never seen.
"Because," he continued. "It depends on your freedom..whether you speak or not."
I didn't say anything. "Look, man, if you talk I can get you out of this situation just as quick as you got in."
"Yea, right." I mumbled.
"I'm serious, man." He leaned closer to me, and out of instinct, I leaned closer..ready to throw down if necessary. I don't like people in my personal space.
"What's in it for me?" I asked, looking him dead in his ice-blue eyes. I watched them as they grew in size.
"Young man," he laughed. "...your freedom. Just talk." He leaned back and crossed his leg over the other as if he were waiting.
I tapped my foot against the edge of the table before coming to the conclusion. "Alright," I assumed the comfortable position.
"Good." His slightly yellow and crooked teeth came into view. "Where shall we start?" He grinned.
I sighed and rubbed my head before replying:
"The fuck you wanna know?"
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