~> The story written below is purely fictional. Not a fraction of truth is riddled between these words nor does the author imply that there should be. Most of the events in the pages to follow are created in the author's mind and thus should not be taken as fact in any way. He takes no responsibility for any illegal activity such as underage reading because it is done without his knowledge or sanction. The story's solitary intention is that of entertainment and nothing beyond.

~> Plagiarism of any part of this, or any other story without the author's consent is immoral and not to mention unlawful.

~> Inquiries and opinions are encouraged. Send your thoughts to jc71883@hotmail.com and put something related to the story on the subject line so the author does not overlook it.

"Fifty! Fifty! Fifty! Fifty! Fifty!"

The crowd is up in arms and screaming fanatically as Curtis Jackson III, or 50 Cent, steps off the stage of Madison Square Garden, beads of sweat dripping off his exposed, muscular torso. The air is chilly for a summer night in New York as the rap superstar grabs a towel once he enters his dressing room, content with his performance. His management team suggests that he do an unscheduled show and he is glad that he listens to them, for once in his career. The smooth, ebony skin of his back sticks to the sofa as he sits in his dressing room alone and tries to catch his breath. The TV is on and displaying some uninteresting program but he does not notice it because he is too busy replaying his latest performance in his head, trying to highlight the ups and downs so he can learn from it. His mind is a jumbled mess because of work. He rarely has time for himself because his job keeps him so busy all the time. The rapper especially loves it when the girls scream for him when he takes his shirt off though. He can never give up the game.

"Good show man," one of his managers and friend says as he walks in. 50 slowly opens his eyes and looks at him as he says, "I knocked but you didn't answer."

"Yea. Just thinking `bout shit I gotta do," the rapper replies.

"You aight?"

"Yea. It wasn't one of my best performances."

"What you talkin' `bout? That shit was crazy. You see how crazy the fans went?"

"I know but I felt it could've been better."

"How?"

"Dunno," 50 shrugs his shoulders.

"You being too hard on yourself. You aight?"

"I'm straight. Why?"

"You look like something's bothering you."

"Naw. I'm cool yo."

"Aight man. You `bout to leave?"

"Yea. I gotta go to some radio interview tomorrow morning."

"I'm heading out now. I'll catch you later man."

"Later nigga."

The two men's hands catch in a quick shake before 50 watches his friend disappear from his room, giving him his space back. He is tired and the muscles of his upper back are tense and straining because of his extreme workout earlier, before the show. Figuring it best to shower at his suite, 50 grabs his stuff and walks out the door. Everyone commends him on the show he put on earlier as he walks to the black Cadillac Escalade that will take him to his luxurious hotel suite. It is a hard life to move from state to state, hotel room to hotel room, but it is what he wants. This is what he dreamt about as a kid growing up in Southside Queens. It is his life. The Escalade speeds through the brightly lit city with 50 Cent in the back, scanning his phone for any important messages. Work would always follow him wherever he goes but he is used to it now so it does not matter as much as he let it matter to him before. Dr. Dré 's message is prominent on his phone but he does not want to open it and deal with him, or Eminem, right now.

The lobby of the hotel is quiet and 50 Cent stealthy makes his way across it and to an elevator, his face partly obscure because of the hat and du-rag on his head. His body feels weak because he hardly ate anything today and he burned so much energy in the gym and then on stage. The elevator rings, letting him know that it has reached the floor he requested, as he walks out and up to the door of his room. His hand immediately goes into his back pocket to fetch his wallet and ultimately, his key card to enter his suite. A sweet smell touches 50's nose as he enters his suite and closes the door behind him. The tired rapper drops his duffel bag on the sofa in the living room and completely forgets about it before immediately walking over to the hotel's phone, grabbing the menu that is lying next to it. Browsing it for something good to eat, he decides on having the filet mignon and picks up the phone to order his meal. After resetting the phone on the receiver, he decides it best to take a shower to kill time before his food comes.

He sits on the bed and begins taking his black Reebok sneakers and socks off. The cool air floating around the room greets his feet and he gets up and walks toward the bathroom. The lights flick on in the bathroom and he sees the extra towels he requested from the maid early in the morning when he was on his way out to yet another interview. 50 Cent begins to undress himself by taking off the white wifebeater that is clinging to his sweaty, dark skin. It is damp as he tosses it aside and begins to work out of the pair of black jeans he has on. He removes the belt from the loops of the jeans and tosses it on the floor as he drapes the belt over the towel rack. His white boxers are the last article of clothing to come off the rapper's body and that too is tossed aside into the forgotten pile as he enters the overly large shower his room boasts. Cold water shoots out of the jets as the man's body fights to become used to it. Lukewarm water eventually defeats the cold water that once plagued his body and his muscles finally try their best to relax.

The superstar rapper lets water hit his face and trickle down his well developed body in an attempt to relax himself and forget about his hunger. He washes his smooth face as the tip of his index finger runs across an indentation. The place where he was shot. He continues to touch it gently, remembering all too well how it happened. It reminds him of how hard his life has been before he became who he is now. He knows he will never forget that day and what happened to him. He cannot. Soap bubbles touch his ebony skin as he lathers it and begins to clean himself. The soap touches every part of his body intimately and it reminds him that he hasn't been with a woman for a while now. He is so busy with selling records or sneakers or endorsing anything he can get his hands on that he rarely finds time for himself. He is rubbing his hard stomach with the bar of soap before he hears a loud knocking at the door. After quickly rinsing himself off, he grabs the nearest towel and makes his way to it.

"Yea?" he says as he opens the door, fastening the towel securely around his waist.

"Your order sir," a young man in his twenties says as he motions to the cart in between them.

"You can put it over there."

"Yes sir."

50 leaves the door and goes to get his wallet from the bedroom. He is used to being half-naked in front of a crowd so being the way he is now in front of one person is no bother to him. "Your tip man."

"Thank you. Enjoy your meal."

"No problem homie."

The young man steals looks at the marvelous specimen of a man that is before him before he leaves and 50 is oblivious to it. He bypasses the cart and walks into the bedroom to dry his wet skin and put some clothes on. The food smells good and soon fills the room with its intoxicating scent. He removes the towel from around his waist and begins drying himself. The towel passes around his toned biceps, along his sculpted back, and against his chiseled abs in an attempt to catch all the drops of water that is on his body. In his suitcase, the hungry rapper finds a clean pair of boxers along with a pair of pajama bottoms. This is the first night in the past months that he is not out at a club or some celebrity function and for this, he is glad. The pajama pants fit his hips perfectly and he walks out to the cart and looks at his dish for the first time. The room is quiet as he sits on the sofa, flicks on the TV, and begins eating his meal. He hears his phone go off in the other room but he could care less right now. His attention is on the TV.

He pushes the cart outside and closes the door behind him. The lights from the city pierce through the drapes of the room and it calms him somehow. He is really tired and ready to hit his bed as he hears his phone ring once again. 50 ignores it as he sits back on the comfortable sofa and watches the TV. He really does not want to deal with anyone because he is enjoying these few moments he has to himself. No females. None of his boys. No beef. No drama in general. He knows he is tired and has an early morning tomorrow but his body will not let him get the rest he needs. The TV is playing the late night news until he changes the channel to some cartoons for something more livelily to watch. He is sick of watching the news of terrorist attacks and the constant talk of war. Once again, the obscure lights of the city of New York catches him off guard and he can't help but stare outside, completely ignoring the TV now. The young rapper cannot remember the last time he felt this calm. His phone goes off in his head again.

He bypasses looking at the number his cell phone displays and quickly flips it open. "Yea?" he says in a somewhat angry voice.

"Hi daddy!" he hears his son Marquise reply. His voice sounds so pure and innocent.

"Tré? What are you doing up so late son?" he asks, his whole mood spinning around immediately.

"I miss you daddy. Are you okay?"

His son asks him that every time they talk. 50 loves him more than anything. "Yea I'm okay. What about you Twenty-five Cent? How you doing lil' man?"

The little boy giggles every time his father calls him that. "I'm fine. I got an A on my math test today."

"You did? That's my boy! I miss you too Tré. I'm gonna have to buy you something special for that."

"I don't need anything. I just wanna see you daddy. We can hang out like we used to," the youth says, his voice full of hope.

"I can't right now baby. Work is keeping me busy."

"Can't you take a few days off?"

"I'll try but I can't promise anything buddy."

"I miss you."

"Daddy misses you a lot too. I'll try okay?"

"Okay."

"How's your mom?"

"She's doing good. I saw you on TV a few days ago. You were wearing a red shirt."

He remembers it well. The TRL set. "Did I do good Mr. Manager?" he asks as he laughs a little.

"Yep! You did great. I watched the whole thing."

"I'm glad you liked it. I don't wanna get fired."

"I'm not gonna fire you daddy. You're a great rapper!"

"Thanks Tré," 50 says as he finally notices the time. "Don't you have school tomorrow young man?" he asks, trying to sound as parental as possible. He could never be mad at Marquise though because the six-year-old has him wrapped around his fingers.

"Yes."

"I think you should be in your bed about now Tré. School's very important." He tries to sound strict but knows he is failing miserably.

"I know. I know. I'm going," his son pouts.

"I love you son. I'm so proud of you."

"I love you too daddy."

"I'll call you tomorrow when you get out of school okay?"

"Okay. Good night."

"Night baby boy. Get another A for me tomorrow in school."

"Okay I will. Bye."

"Bye."

The rapper tosses his phone on the bed and sits there for a moment, thinking about his conversation. He loves his son and wants to make sure that he is raised right and most importantly, far away from the world he grew up knowing. This is why he never bothers to file for full custody because he knows deep down that Marquise's mother will provide a safe and more stable life for their son than he will ever be able to. All the money, fame, and power that comes along with 50 Cent is almost too much for him to handle at times and there is no way he wants his son to be exposed to any of it. 50 loves him too much to lead him down the same road he was forced to go down as a child. All he knows is to protect his son. His little boy. Although the boy said that he didn't want something for getting an A, the rapper is deciding in his mind what to buy him because he is so proud of him and a gift seems to be in order. He wishes he had nothing to do tomorrow so he could go and hang out with his little boy. He falls asleep shortly after.

50 Cent's phone alarm rings next to his head the next morning as he feels around for it. The sun is still asleep on the dark New York morning as he flips on the light on top of the nightstand. He yawns and stretches out his limbs before taking a shower and getting ready for his radio interview. As much as he does not want to talk about any aspect of his personal life, he knows it will be impossible because that is all anyone really cares about. The gossip. Whom he's dating. Whom he has beef with now. It is a never-ending cycle but he is going to try to avoid such questions and only focus on his music and his G-Unit crew. Lloyd Banks and Young Buck are his boys. They are the closest thing he has to best friends in the industry, apart from Dr. Dré and Eminem. He knows he can trust all of them. A black Escalade is waiting for him outside the lobby and he inconspicuously walks to it and quickly hops in. The ride downtown is a hectic and busy one but he eventually gets to where he needs to be; the Z-100 studio.

He jumps out of the SUV with two men and they all walk into the studio together. The receptionist welcomes them warmly and personally ushers him and his two bodyguards, Caleb and Danny, to where they need to be. They can hear the DJ's voice as the broadcast plays all throughout the office and he suddenly feels a little butterfly fluttering in his stomach. Even though he is a rap superstar, he still gets a little nervous at times because he never knows what to expect. It is a good feeling though because it motivates him to go further and do all he can. The young woman finally comes upon the green room and dismisses herself as 50 sits on the couch and flips open his phone. He checks and replies to a few messages before he gets up and fixes himself a bowl of cereal for his breakfast. He hears his name on the radio and it still manages to amaze him that he made it. The little kid who sold drugs on the street corner made it. Another woman enters the green room and asks the rapper to follow her. He is lead into the studio.

"Good morning once again New York!" the DJ energetically says into his mic. "As promised, we have Mr. G-Unit himself Fifty Cent in the building right now. How you doing Fifty?"

"Chillin'. What's good with ya man?" he replies into his own mic.

"Same old same old. You know how it goes. So what you doing in New York?"

"Just wrapped a show last night at the Garden. A surprise for the fans."

"I hear it was off the chain."

"You know how I do," he replies, modesty gone.

"Oh yea. Your shows are always hot. When are we gonna get another Fifty Cent album?"

"Not for a while. I'm working with Banks on his and then we gonna put out a G-Unit album after that and then I gotta work on Buck's record."

"Busy man. Do you sleep?"

He laughs into the mic, "Not that much. Gotta make that paper."

"Speaking of, I hear you recently bought a mansion up in Connecticut? Used to belong to Mike Tyson?"

"Yea. A couple weeks ago. Dropped `bout 4.2 mil on it."

"Mad money! When's the house warming party?"

"I dunno. Haven't even slept in it yet. I'll hit you up though."

"Straight. So what can we expect from Lloyd Banks' record. A release date set?"

"Naw. We still collaborating and working on tracks and stuff. He recorded a few songs already that look like they gonna make the cut."

"How's it sounding?"

"Let me put it this way, you can tell it's Banks spitting on the track. He got some tight rhymes and Dré and I got some sweet beats behind that. It's gonna kill when it comes out. He knows what he wants and what he's doing. The kid's got mad skills," 50 says as he smiles.

"That's definitely gonna be hot with the fans. And what about the other two albums you mentioned?"

"They're still in the pre-production stages so they won't be out for a while. We're just experimenting right now to see what sounds good and what the fans want."

"The last time we spoke, it was a few weeks after Get Rich or Die Tryin' dropped right?"

"Somewhere around there yea."

"How much pressure are you under to have your sophomore album top your first?"

"The way I see it, if I sell one less record than Get Rich or Die Tryin' then I've failed and failure's not an option to me. I won't let it be. We haven't discussed the sophomore album yet but I know we will soon."

"That's a lot of pressure for one man. How do you deal with it?"

"I try not to think about it until I have to."

"You started writing for it yet?"

"Naw not yet. Too busy doing other things but I figure I will sooner or later."

"Aight, now that we got worked wrapped, let's move on. How's the love life? You seeing anyone?"

50 smiles and decides to be honest to prevent further questions. "Naw. I'm single right about now."

"You hear that ladies?" the DJ says into the mic. "Ya boy is single and ready to mingle."

"That's right. Lookin' for Ms. Right Now."

"Wow! All of New York heard that one because our phone lines are lighting up like crazy. You wanna take some questions from the fans?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Caller ten you're on the air with Fifty Cent."

"Hi Fifty," a girl's voice sounds.

"Sup baby girl?"

"Where do you get inspirations for your songs?"

"I see what's out in the game right now, notice what the fans respond to, and pull stuff from personal experiences as well. Coming up with lyrics is harder than actually lacing them down in the studio."

"Next caller."

"Ay what's good Fifty?" a deep voice echoes throughout the studio.

"Straight."

"What you think about all the beefs you have with people and people have with you?"

"Oh! Putting you on the spot Fifty man."

"It's cool. The rap game is made up of beefs. Once you step foot in the game then someone's gonna come after you so I just started going after people too. I don't beef with other cats for publicity or to sell records. Some rappers do that and that's their thing but not me. I hate fake rappers so when I see one I point him out because his game is whack."

"Some people think you whack."

"It's straight. They have their opinions. It don't bother me."

"One more call before my man gotta bounce up outta here. Line six."

"You say you single baby. Come by my place and I'll fix that for you," a woman says to the rapper.

"I just might take you up on that offer sweetheart."

"Of course you will!" the confident woman says.

"Oh snap! We making love connections up in here. That's what it's all about. Aight New York, Fifty has to get outta here. You wanna take us to a commercial man?"

"Ay ay, this ya boy Fifty Cent and you listening to Z-100 in the AM. Keep it locked."

He shakes the DJ's hand and leaves the studio. The interview takes almost the whole morning with it and he is hungry again, only having a bowl of cereal before his lengthy interview. He also wants to go to the gym because he has been neglecting his body the past few days. His son runs on his mind. He is in school right now and 50 really wants to see him. No matter what the rest of his day is going to be like, he is going to find time to call him as he promised. He knows he has a meeting with a couple Reebok designers around four in the afternoon to discuss his shoe endorsement but besides that, he is free for the day. The rapper decides to go to the gym before that meeting because he has a couple hours to kill before then. An idea instantly pops into his head. He instructs the driver to take him to Lexington Avenue to meet with his friend Jacob. He knows the jeweler extraordinaire will know the perfect gift he can get for Marquise. 50 Cent hopes to give it to his son in person and sometime soon because he misses his little guy.

50 Cent enters the building with his two bodyguards trying their best to cover him so they wouldn't attract any attention. Things go smoothly as they step into the elevator and begin their ascent up the tall skyscraper. The rapper and his bodyguards talk amongst themselves until the elevator notifies them that they are on their floor. He tells his men to do whatever they want until he handles what he came here for and the two men disperse, walking toward the overly large windows of the building and looking out to see how high up they are. He walks into the store and sits down in the corner because all the other clerks are busy helping other people. It more resembles an agency than a jewelry store because of its individual offices and the lack of jewelry displays. He flicks his phone open and begins answering more messages. There are more now than before. His stomach silently grumbles as a female clerk finishes up with her customer and walks over to him; a smile adorns her face.

"I'm so sorry for the wait sir," she says as she accompanies him to her office. "How may I be of help to you today?"

50 takes the seat offered to him and asks, "Is Jacob in today?"

"Yes. He's in his office."

"I want to speak to him."

"Follow me then sir," she says before walking out of her office and making her way to the back of the store. "You have someone here to see you Mr. Arabo."

The popular jeweler turns his attention from a piece he is working on and looks to see who his visitor is. "Ah, Mr. Jackson. How are you?" he greets his guest and gets up to shake his hand.

50 takes it into his own and the clerk disappears and shuts the door behind her. "I'm straight man. I like the new office."

"Classier I think. And definitely more space," the jewel maker says in his Russian accent. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Naw man I'm good."

"Okay. What can I do for you then?"

"I want to get something for my son Tré."

"Want to have him blinged out like his dad huh?"

"Something like that," 50 laughs. "What you think?"

"How old is he?"

"Six."

"Is it a birthday gift?"

"No. Actually he told me yesterday that he got an A on his math test so I decided to buy him something."

"An A huh? That's good to hear. They grow up so fast."

"Definitely. So what you recommend man? You the best."

"What are you looking for? A watch? Ring? Anything in particular?"

"I dunno. That's why I came here. Figure you'd give me some ideas."

"Hm. What about a chain with a pendant?"

"What kind of pendant?"

"We could do his name. Whatever you want I can make."

"I had this idea for like an ID band or something," the rapper tries to explain himself.

The skilled jeweler takes a nearby form and begins filling it out. "We can do that."

"I like your idea about his name but I wanna put Tré on it. That's what I call him."

"Very good. Material? Platinum?"

"Of course. I want his name in diamonds. The best you got man."

"That can be arranged. Anything else?"

"Actually put the diamonds around the edge and put his name in sapphires. He loves blue."

"Right."

"How much am I looking at?"

"Let me see," he says as he finishes drawing the sketch and pulls a nearby calculator to him. He types calmly but quickly on it.

"The price doesn't matter anyway."

"It'll run you about $180 thousand. I have to get the sapphire gems exported especially from Italy."

"Sounds good to me. When can I get it?"

"When do you want it?"

"Next couple days?"

"That could work. Give me three days."

"I can always count on you man."

"You're a valued customer."

50 Cent swipes his American Express Black card and extravagantly signs the bill before leaving. He is excited because he knows his son will love it from the sketches he has seen. He cannot wait to get it and give it to Marquise. The bodyguards meet up with him on his way out and they once again jump back into the black Escalade. He tells the driver to stop at the nearest fast food restaurant and instructs one of his bodyguard to go out and get them something to eat because he is about to go to the gym and he needs the energy to work out. A McDonald's comes into view and the driver parks as one of his men jumps out and walks into the establishment. They all munch on the cheeseburgers he buys as they make their way through the busy traffic and to the gym. 50 is a member of an exclusive line of gyms in the New York area and this guarantees him his privacy in his workouts. He is allowed twenty-four hour access because of his busy schedule. This is great because he would get a workout in when he can't sleep on some nights.

Sweat soaks through the rapper's wifebeater as he is running on a treadmill at a constant speed. His bodyguards are also working out with one lifting some free weights and the other running on a treadmill next to his boss. They talk when they catch enough breath but the treadmill is proving to be a great workout for both. After a half an hour is up on the machine, the men switch positions and 50 is on a floor mat doing crunches. He works hard to maintain his body but he loves it because he knows he is healthy and does it for himself and no one else. Of course, it doesn't hurt that most women, and some men, admire his body. He is glad that he ate the cheeseburgers earlier because he begins to feel energy dripping out of his body. 50 Cent does his normal amount of crunches for the day before sitting up on the mat to catch his breath a little. After a little break and a drink of water, he walks over to the weight bench and begins lifting the hundred and fifty plus pounds present on the bar. The workout exhilarates him.

His mind is on his son all throughout his workout. He wonders when his schedule will permit him to see the boy. He can't count the days because he feels like his son Marquise is the only thing he did right in the world. The muscles in his stomach exert and strain as he works them out and stops because he physically cannot do another sit-up. His body is on a natural high and he admits to himself that it feels better getting high this way than through smoking, which he hasn't done much of in the past couple months. Push-ups are next on his agenda as he flips his body over and begins to exert the force of his body onto his two arms. All his muscles work like a well-oiled machine and his dark ebony skin glistens because of the now steady flow of sweat that envelopes it. After the extended workout, the rapper and his two bodyguards hit the showers. None are shy about their bodies as they shower together, talking and joking around with each other. It's off to the Reebok meeting as they jump into the Escalade.

The suite smells of vanilla as 50 Cent opens the door and drops his duffel bag next to it. The meeting with the executives of the shoe company proves to last longer than he anticipates or cares for it to but he is happy with the outcome, and more specifically, his own line of G-Unit shoes. He talks to Dré on the way back from the meeting and leaves a message for Eminem, who is in Detroit visiting his daughter. He is not going to disturb his friend while he is catching up with his daughter. He wouldn't want that when he is hanging out with Marquise so he respects his friend and sometimes boss. His muscles are still slightly tense from his workout earlier but he feels good. It is about eight and the Moon is full in the sky as the light from it and the stars guide the people of the city to where they need to be. The rapper is tired as he sits on the comfortable sofa and clicks the TV on. A quick shower and dinner refreshes and revitalizes him as he sits once again in front of the TV, his phone in his hand. He hopes his son is still up.

"Hello?" a woman's voice sounds after three rings.

"How are you?" 50 Cent says to Marquise's mother and his former lover.

"Curtis? I see you finally make time to call your son."

He doesn't want to argue with her now. "I'm sorry. I should call more."

"You should. You know how much he looks up to you. I don't know why."

That hurts him but he doesn't show it. He is patient with her. "Can we please not do this right now?"

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just don't want our son---"

"To turn out like me?"

She hesitates before answering. "Yes."

"Me either. That's why I want him to stay with you."

"But he needs his father too Curtis. That little boy loves you more than anything. All he does is talk about his daddy."

"All I do is think about him," 50 feels like he has to defend himself.

"Don't let our son down."

"I'm trying not to. Why can't you see that?"

"I do. It's just not hard enough. Do you wanna talk to him?"

"Yea."

She walks the phone to their son, who is coloring in his room. "Hello?" his young voice comes on the line.

"Hey shorty!"

"Hi daddy! What's up?"

"Not much Tré. Just relaxing. You?"

"Daddy? Are you okay? You sound sad."

"Naw son. I'm good. So did you---"

"I think you're lying to me. What happened? You and mom fight again?"

The rapper closes his eyes and rests his head on the sofa. "I'm sorry I haven't been calling you much lately Tré."

"It's okay. I know how busy you are and everything."

"Still. I don't wanna let you down Marquise. I can't."

"You must be really sad."

"Why you say that buddy?"

"Because you never call me Marquise."

He smiles to himself. His son is so perceptive. The six-year-old misses nothing. "I want to be there for you baby. I love you so much---"

"I know that daddy. I know you love me. I'll talk to mom."

"No Tré. Don't do that."

"It's not fair that she's always making you feel bad."

"But son---"

"I know you're trying as hard as you can to work and be there for me."

His son never ceases to amaze him and he is so proud of him right now. "I don't know what to say lil' man."

"It's okay dad. It's hard for you. You're not a normal guy," his son says and 50 picks up a hint of sadness in the boy's voice.

"I promise I'm gonna make more time for you Tré. My career is important but you're more important to me son. Always remember that."

"Okay. What did you do today?"

"Uh. I did a radio interview and went to the gym. And I had a meeting with some people downtown." He neglects to tell him about his meeting with the jeweler Jacob Arabo. It has to be a surprise.

"Sounds like fun."

"I didn't have that much to do today. And what about you Mr. Marquise Jackson? How was school today?"

His son giggles at the sound of his full name. His mother only calls him by that when he's in trouble. "It was good."

"Did you get another A for daddy?"

"I took a spelling test but my teacher didn't grade it yet. I think I did good."

"Doing good in math and spelling. That's my boy!"

"School's important right?"

"Yep. I'm gonna come and see you as soon as I can okay?"

"Okay. Mom's telling me I gotta go take a bath."

"Okay baby boy. I'll call---"

"I don't wanna go," his son cutely pouts. "I wanna talk to you some more."

"Listen to your mother Tré. It's getting late so go take a shower you lil' stinky boy!" he teases.

"Hey! I'm not stinky! You punk!"

"Oh that's it. We gonna fight the next time I see you."

"You're going down!

"We'll see about that. I'll talk to you later son. I love you."

"I love you too daddy! Bye."

"Later twenty-five Cent," he laughs. He loves teasing his son.

The smiling rapper tosses his phone next to him on the sofa as he thinks about the little boy he helped bring into the world. He is perfect in every conceivable way and 50 believes that more now than ever before. He plans to step away from 50 Cent next weekend and be Curtis Jackson, dad, for at least two days. This way, he will already have the ID band ready and have a little over a week to square everything away with work so he can be with his son. The short hiatus from being 50 Cent excites him because being the high profile rapper is exhausting and breaks are necessary. It is what he wants though, as far back as he can remember, so he does it to the best of his ability. It is hard work but he didn't expect anything less to become an international icon and worth so many millions of dollars. He wonders how Young Buck and Lloyd Banks are, not having spoken to them in almost a week. They are off doing their own thing and he respects them even more for that. In his bedroom, sleep overtakes his worn body.

As the morning light enters the room through the curtains, 50 gently tosses on the bed, happy that this is the first day in a while that he actually gets to sleep in. He has nowhere to be this morning and just relaxes his body and mind. His phone is off so no one can bother him as he grabs a nearby pillow and hugs it tightly. He tries to fall back asleep but the Sun is fighting against him so he just lays on the bed, thinking about nothing. It's a wonderful feeling of not having anything to do right now. Not having anywhere to be or have an upcoming performance to prepare for. He takes it all in because he knows how rare the opportunity is. His son pops into his mind and he wants to call him but he knows that he's in school right now. Last night's conversation with Marquise is still on his mind. 50 Cent is trying as hard as he possibly can not to let his son down but he fears that he will eventually mess up and fail. He can't help but feel that way. Marquise's mother is right. He doesn't know why his son looks up to him either.

As the day gets on, he leaves the hotel and heads back to the gym with his two bodyguards. He plans to take advantage of all the down time and get any personal errands he has to do out of the way before it is all snatched away from him and it becomes all about work again. Like the day before, the gym workout boosts his energy and makes him feel good. The rapper treats himself and his two bodyguards to lunch at the first upscale pizzeria they come across. Lunch is great and the men enjoy themselves talking to each other and relaxing. They are interrupted a few times when some fans recognize 50 through his hat and shades but he is happy to oblige them with an autograph. He has to make an appearance at the Jay-Z's 40/40 Club later on tonight because of an earlier promise but he is happy to do it. After the men are finished with lunch, 50 Cent opts to go back to his suite and hang out there for the rest of the day. He invites his bodyguards to hang out with him, telling them that they are off duty for a while.

The two beefy bodyguards take seats on the luxurious sofa as 50 goes into his room to put his phone to charge because it is dead. He didn't charge it last night after he spoke to his son. He realizes that he and his bodyguards are becoming friends and smiles because he knows that he is beginning to trust them. When they first started working for him, he had to trust them because it was the only choice there but now it's more because he wants to. They've all become good friends and it makes the rapper feel more at ease that a personal relationship is developing over the professional one. Caleb, one of his bodyguards, is gone when he returns to the living room and Danny, his other bodyguard, informs his boss that he went to get his Playstation 3 from his room. They both watch TV until Tony returns shortly after and starts hooking up the gaming system to the extra large television set the hotel suite boasts. He tosses a duffel bag full of games at his boss and 50 Cent rifles through them. He grabs a controller and they start playing.

The games take the rest of their day with it and 50 hears his phone going off in the other room. His publicist informs him that he should start getting ready to go to the 40/40 Club. He barely notices the time as he gets off the phone and walks back into the room where his two friends are. Each man nods when their boss tells them that he's going to be in the shower and continue with the game in front of them. The buff rapper strips naked when in the bathroom and stares at himself in the mirror for a brief second before jumping in the spacious shower and under the warm water spewing out of the showerhead. The water feels great against his skin but he quickly shampoos his hair and lathers body wash over his entire body. His publicist mentioned that the limo is already en route to the hotel and he doesn't want to have the driver waiting for too long. He gets a pair of black jeans from his closet and a white button-up shirt, which he rolls up the sleeves to his elbows. A black pair of Nikes completes the outfit and they all leave the room.