"What I've discovered is my brother's tryin' to be the next me, yeah I support him but he's blinded I see jealousy he love me to death, am I buggin'? I love him for life we both still mournin' on our mother's life."
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Nas's home phone rang loudly, rolling onto his back he rubbed his eyes wiping the crust from his eyes he looked at the laptop that sat next to him the screen was now black. Moving his finger against the touch pad, the image of Ashanti smiling was stilled on the screen. Seeing the battery was down to 15 percent he reached under the nightstand and grabbed the thin cord from the socket plugging in the laptop and exiting out of the Safari browser. His house phone rang again, this was unusual. Reaching for his cell phone he turned the phone off of silent mode.
Within seconds his phone lit up with messages, missed calls, and voicemails playing the first voicemail he could hear his father's voice, "Nasir it's your father, your brother got into some trouble last night. Call me back." The house phone rang again, picking up the receiver he cleared his throat, "Yeah?" "Nasir!" His father spoke his deep sounding voice coming through clear on the receiver. "Yes." He answered turning his body off the bed, his feet touching the floor. "Jabari got into some trouble at that club last night."
Nas lifted his watch up that sat on his nightstand the time on the watch read 4:15 AM. He had barely had 5 hours of sleep, his body was tired. Looking out the sheer blinds he could see it was still dark outside, the moon hadn't began it's descent into the earth yet. "What happened?" He asked yawning. "Something about a gun being shot inside the club, Jabari was there with all those other men. The area they were in got shot up." This woke him up grabbing the remote he turned on the television turning to the news channel to see if something was being reported yet. He didn't see anything grabbing his laptop he opened safari for the internet and searched 'Jungle' nothing showed up then he searched, 'Jabari Fret'. To his relief nothing came up under this either. "I'll call Diane see what she says." His father grunted then disconnected the phone.
Going into his phone book he selected 'Lawya Chick'. Diane was a bulldog she was aggressive and would play dirty for her clients if she needed to. Her clients respected her and the other attorneys in New York feared her. Somehow she had caught the eye of his brother who fell in love with her aggressive mannerisms. Once she graduated from Georgetown she was introduced by her father, Mark Kaplan who was Nas's attorney at that time. She took over his duties once he retired."Yes, Mr. Jones." She answered, her voice nice and cheery; no hint of tiredness evident in her tone. Dealing with celebrities she realized she was always on call; night's when other's would sleep she'd spend her evenings glued to her phone falling asleep with it placed on her chest. "Jungle got into something tonight, I need you to check it out." She pulled out a pen and pencil, " That man can't stay out of trouble if you paid him to." Diane sighed, "I'm on it boss."
Jabari was born 2 years after than him; a true Aries he was always into something. He was impulsive and destructive, these tendencies were only amplified when he was with David and Nore. Nas hoped he didn't get caught with a gun; New York had tighter laws regarding gun control than most states. The first offense guaranteeing jail time and a felony listed on your record. He couldn't lose his brother now before he went onto tour. Walking into his closet he pulled out a pair of dark washed blue jeans, a white tee shirt and timberland boots throwing the outfit onto his bed his shoes were roughly dropped by the armchair holding the used towel. Walking into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Dressing in the clothing placed on the edge of the bed he grabbed a satin blue bomber jacket off the hanger and walked to the kitchen, his phone still in his hand. Dianne called back 30 minutes later, "He's at Manhattan Detention Complex." Nas threw his head back huffing in anger.
