~> 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.



The pair of rap stars tries to leave the auditorium as secretly as possible and jump into their awaiting ride with the thoughts about the conference long behind them. They grab a quick bite to eat before 50 convinces the skinny rapper to accompany him to the gym. It will be the first time working his body out again since he was shot. It is something he has to do because he can feel his body starting to slip away from him. Eminem finishes his burger and fries while they are on their way to the gym to work it all off. Both are constantly on the phone planning future meetings, dealing with endorsement issues, and doing interviews to keep themselves at the very top. The G-Unit founder finds himself in a break so he looks out at the disappearing New York day through the window of the car to try and find himself. His body is feelings things he knows he cannot control for much longer and he is scared to see how these feelings will manifest themselves in the near future. He is not used to this type of rejection. 50 Cent is not used to any kind of rejection. It is weird.


Once at the gym, they change their clothes and begin to stretch all their muscles out. Slim borrows some of his extra clothes because he did not plan on coming to the gym today so he has nothing on him. With the warm-up complete, the real strenuous workout begins to take place. It is the treadmill first to get their heart rates up and that is then followed by pushups, sit-ups, and free weights. Eminem struggles to catch his breath because he has not officially worked his body out in a while so he is rusty but the free adrenaline and increased blood flow is addicting. The routine completes with the two rappers on the weight bench spotting each other as they bench press their maximum. 50 Cent is able to do a solid two hundred and fifty pounds while his counterpart manages to complete a hundred and eighty. Blood rushes through veins and unreachable muscles ache as they make their way back to the locker room to take a shower and leave. The white rap icon grabs the spare towel given to him and they head off to the showers together. The day proves to be useful.


“Let’s take a shower white boy,” 50 says as he starts to strip off the remainder of his clothes and heads under a showerhead.




“I heard that.”


“Good.” He slowly gets out of his sweat-drenched clothes and follows the much darker rapper. They are now standing side by side under the showers. “You got soap?”


“Yea. Right over there. So what up kid?”


“Chillin’. Makin’ that money.”


“You better than me.”


“You gonna get at my status one day. But then I’ll be on a whole other platform so---”


“Yea. Thanks for the shot of confidence,” the ebony star sarcastically proclaims as he moves his head under the running water to wash his face.


“Don’t be jealous.”


“Of you? Oh I ain’t. Trust that.”


“It’s good to have you back C man. I missed ya.”


You gettin’ all sweet on me nigga?”


He counters with, “And what if I am fuck nigga? What you gonna do ‘bout it?” He lets the cool water stream across his platinum blonde hair.


“Nothin’. Damn! I was just checkin’.”


“I thought so.”


“You see what this coward bitch left on me?” 50 Cent asks as he turns to face the other man to show him the result of his gunshot wound.


Eminem looks down to see the scar and ring on his colleague’s lower torso. “A black ring huh?”


“That’s what I’m callin’ it.”


“I was scared as hell.”


“You? How you think I felt?”


“Yea.” Slim Shady does not stop looking because something else catches his eye.


“What you lookin’ at?”


“That shit’s like a frikin’ perfect circle,” he immediately covers his tracks.


“I know. If I catch the lil’ pussy who did this shit I’ll kill his weak ass.”


“I’d do the same thing.” Eyes are still wandering all over the perfect male specimen across from him.


The G-Unit founder does not notice anything and goes back to soaping his slick skin. “Thanks for havin’ my back Em. I know I don’t say it enough but I owe a lot to you. You know it though.”


“It’s easy when you got mad talent and charisma.”


“You think I got charisma huh?” he proudly smiles.


“When you got the bitches cummin’ in their panties when they see you then I’d say you doin’ somethin’ right.”


50’s eyes wanders down his slender body without being caught. He sees his friend’s soft dick and an accent of light brown hairs immediately on top of it. Eminem trims himself down there. “Yea I guess.”


“You ready to get out or gonna take all day in here?”


“Hold yo horses baby. I’m done.”


“I’m leavin’ yo ignorant ass.”


He notices the other man’s cute white butt before he wraps the towel around his waist to cover himself and walk back to the lockers. “I’m done! I’m done! Damn---”


Slim wears the same clothes he came to the gym in because 50 does not have any extra clothes to give him. It does not matter much to him because he has clean clothes at the hotel and he is not required to make an appearance like he promised he would until much later in the night. The duo gets dressed together and leaves the gym after to go their separate ways. Eminem heads back to the city in a black SUV and is immediately on his phone the moment the ride starts. His life will never know peace. The superstar rapper waits a short while for his driver to arrive and it is back to his suite for the night. No parties or drinking tonight, even though his colleague invited him to the party he is going to later on in the night. He needs to talk to Lloyd Banks already. They have to rekindle their relationship before it is lost forever. How can they even try to work things out of he is avoiding him though. The situation is frustrating to him and he sighs when he is in the comfort of his own room. The Sun is alive on the other side of the world as 50 Cent drops down on the sofa.


The next days see the rapper being busier than he has ever been in his professional life. Numerous meetings and prior engagements have piled up on his publicist’s desk while he was recovering so now he has to confront all of that. It does feel good to have his life back to normal though. Almost all of his life anyway. Lloyd Banks is constantly on his mind. Their perfect night together constantly taunts him because of how bad he wants it again. How badly he wants to give himself to the other man. For the first time in a very long time, 50 Cent is not confused about what he wants. His image and lyrics may say otherwise but he is longing for another man; his best friend. It all stays out of his mind when he is in his business mode but it all comes back to him to struggle with at night; especially late at night when he is most susceptible. The G-Unit founder feels week at night because he cannot have what he wants. What he knows his heart wants more than anything. The week wraps up with 50 being as busy as ever doing numerous promotional events.


His mind will not leave him alone. It is two in the morning and the rap superstar knows he has to be at an early morning photo shoot in mere hours and his exhausted body is yearning for sleep but images and words stuck in his mind will not allow him slumbering satisfaction. He restlessly lies on his bed and tosses and turns to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in but it does not happen. 50’s eyes are red and roaming about his overly large room while he tries to coax his unwavering mind into rest. Banks consumes his every thought and he hates it more than anything. Another man is causing his inability to fall asleep; another man has him weak in the knees. The scheduled photo shoot is for seven in the morning; it is only four hours away now and still the bliss will not come to him. His many calls to Lloyd Banks go unanswered and after the last attempt fails miserably, 50 Cent wants to crush his cell phone in his bare hands. There is so much to talk about and say to one other. How can the other man be avoiding him? Why does it hurt so badly?


50’s head is spinning and his eyes are closing on the car ride to his photo shoot of the morning. It will be long and tedious but it must get done. He does not even know what it is for; his guess is some magazine cover or ad he is involved with. The darkness of the previous night did not affect his body’s biological system and it finally gave up and let him get some sleep past four in the morning. The renowned rapper’s head jerks forward when the car stops in the parking lot and his eyes immediately open and try to adjust to more light. He takes a few moments to gather himself before leaving the ride behind and walking into the studio to get his day started. It does not surprise him when the simple photo shoot runs hours past its time and he gets out mid afternoon. 50 Cent wants to go to the gym badly but his body is far too tired for him to do anything else. An informed call from his publicist lets him know that he is scheduled to appear at an industry party later that night but for now, he is going back to the hotel to catch up on much justified sleep.


Lloyd Banks is finding it extremely hard to avoid both 50 Cent and Ludacris at the same time. He almost rarely answers his phone because it is almost always one of the two of them and he is practically begging his agent to increase the amount of appearances, interviews, and general press junkets he has to do on a daily basis so he does not have the time to think about the hopeless situation he put himself in. He does not want his buff colleague anymore and cannot explain why he allowed what happened to happen. The answers will not formulate themselves in his head and he feels hopeless because of how it is hurting his relationship with his boyfriend. How he is hurting the relationship between them. He wants all the thoughts to stop; stop haunting him. Stop keeping him from being happy. Banks keeps his thug rapper façade up at an industry party until he gets bored with it and heads back to his hotel for the night; the landscape says that it is past two in the morning when his ride speeds off. New York City is a cold place after light is gone.


Time slowly goes by with nothing changing or being resolved within himself and he feels like crying with each subsequent day because they are getting harder and harder on him. He will not cry; never. His boyfriend is more than worth it but 50 is not worth his tears. The jaded rapper keeps up with his excessively packed schedule and thus leaving very little time for himself. At yet another photo shoot, he speaks to his man but it is extremely brief because he is called back onto set shortly after their conversation starts. The guilt has torn out Banks’ insides and he does not know how much longer he can keep going. It is a no win situation because he can keep it to himself and slowly go mad or he can tell Ludacris and risk losing him for good this time. There is so many times where he wants to give up and tell his boyfriend the true reason for his sudden distance but a small shred of himself holds him back from taking the plunge. It is his selfish part; the part that wants to keep their once perfect relationship intact. He stares into oblivion while on the sofa.


A strong knock startles him as he sits up and looks at the door for a minute. It happens again and gets up to see who it could be at this late hour. His heart jumps out of his chest when he peers through the peephole and sees him. “Brian. Hi---” he uncertainly says after the door stops protecting him.


“We gotta talk,” the southern rapper says as he invites himself into the room.


Lloyd Banks closes the door and leans his whole body against it for the support he now needs. “Gimme the strength to deal with this,” he mutters under his breath as the back of his head presses into the door and his eyes close. “How’d you know where I was?”


“I had to track you down. What’s up with that shit?”


“I’ve been busy and every---”


“I don’t wanna hear that bullshit Chris! I’m busy as hell too but I always find time to call you. Something’s up.”


“No! Everything’s good---”


“You’re fuckin’ lying kid! Stop playin’ these damn games with me! I thought we was past this shit.” Ludacris is almost to the point of being blindly enraged because of his frustration. He sits on the nearby sofa and takes a deep breath.


“We are. I’m not playing any games.”


“Oh yea? I call you ass ‘bout twenty damn times before you return one of my calls.”


“Babe calm down---”


“Don’t stand there and call me that Chris. I wanna know what’s been up with you.”


He has to continue with the lie because it will break both of them if it ever gets out. “Noth---”


“I know you not ‘bout to say nothing. Take me seriously kid.”


“I do! You the most serious thing in my life.”


The older rap superstar sighs and hangs his head, thinking. He has to calm down. “So why you avoidin’ me Chris?”


“I’m not. I told you I’ve been busy.”


“You always called me before.”


“I’m tired Bri. Almost all my days start at six in the morning and finish at midnight with barely any breaks in between. I’m stressed out and tired.” The lies will disturb him for many sleepless nights to come.


“You were handlin’ it all before.”


“I didn’t have this much shit to do before. You know I’m tryin’ to break away from just being a member of G-Unit.”


“I know but---” his boyfriend says before being cut off.


“You should know how hard it is to be a solo rap artist out there and how hard you gotta work to maintain that status. I’m sorry---”


“Something’s gotta change baby. Take a vacation.”


“I can’t. I kinda already took one when I was lookin’ after Fifty.”


“Another thing that nigga manages to steal from you.” There is a heavy spitefulness in the Atlanta rapper’s tone.


The conversation cannot fall onto 50 Cent. “I’m sorry Bri. I really am.” A part of him feels like he is apologizing for the whole 50 incident at the very moment.


“Come here.”


The G-Unit member walks to the sofa and sits next to his man. “I---” His words are slit with a stealthy kiss firmly on his lips.


The kiss presses on until Ludacris finally is able to convince his body to pull away. “I’m sorry too baby,” he admits when their lips break apart. “I just hate being lied to.”


“I just thought it was my problems to deal with.”


“That’s why we got each other Chris. We gotta be there to help each other when shit becomes too much to handle. You gotta know that I’m here for you.”


“I do,” he comes back with quickly.


“No you don’t. If you did then we wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation right now. Babe I love you,” he guides his boyfriend’s eyes into his and says.


Lloyd Banks cannot say it back. He physically cannot because of the guilt weighing down heavily inside him. He instead kisses his man again to get away from saying the three little words that will solidify him as a liar and a cheater. Innocent kisses soon find themselves lost to passionate and more aggressive ones. Sexual conquest is the game on the DTP rapper’s mind and he needs to feel good after their fight. Making up in the best part of a fight and he needs to feel that ecstasy. His body is longing for that gratification once again. He leans into his boyfriend and gently pushes his body back until they are both lying on the sofa intimately kissing one another. The G-Unit rap star’s mind switches into overdrive and his body almost shuts down because of the pleasure he does not deserve. His insides want so desperately to tell the man on top of him of his night with 50 Cent and the words are on the tip of his tongue but they will not be spoken. Ludacris violates every part of his body with his itinerant hands and Banks cannot enjoy it on any level.


“I can’t,” he softly states before reluctantly pulling himself away from his man.


“What? Why?” the southern rapper wants to know.


“I got an early morning tomorrow. I gotta get to bed.”


“Chris you can’t be serious---”


“I need some sleep. I haven’t been gettin’ much the past nights,” Banks slips up and says. The information is not defaming though.


“Baby come on! Please!” Ludacris is on his knees on the sofa and begging his boyfriend to come back to him.


The sudden silence in the hotel room gives the Atlanta rap star the answer he does not want to accept. The feeling that something that is more than work is bothering his boyfriend comes back to him. It seems like he is back at square one again but he cannot start a fight again because he knows he will say something he will come to regret. Lloyd Banks leaves him on the sofa and walks into the kitchen to get something to drink before returning to the living room. The silence is toxic but neither can say anything because a fight will definitely ensue. They walk into the room together as he looks back to see Ludacris stripping out of his clothes and getting ready for bed. The younger rapper heads to the bathroom in hopes that his heart will stop beating out of his chest and brushes his teeth in the process. He absolutely avoids looking in the mirror right now and emerges to find his man already in bed and waiting for him. Banks sheds his clothes but leaves his boxers on before he crawls into bed. He instantly feels a pair of hands grab him under the covers.


“Night,” the G-Unit rapper almost whispers. He still cannot say the three words crucial to the success any relationship.


“Night baby. I love you,” Ludacris sweetly says to his love.


Early the next morning, the tired rap star grabs his phone instantly once it starts to make noise and disturbs the once serene atmosphere that fell onto the room overnight. The Sun is barely making its way toward the horizon when his body easily slips away from the hands still clutching on to him and off the bed. He follows the outline on his bed with his eyes before walking away to the bathroom to get ready and leave. Leave the man he loves because his guilt is forcing him to. A quick shower goes off without a hitch and Lloyd Banks is ready in mere moments. Strong cologne is splashed over his body and a white hat is on his head; he is ready to leave. Ludacris has no idea of what is going on around him in his unconscious state as he continues to sleep. A strong urge comes over the slender rapper to kiss his boyfriend because he looks so adorable and innocent in his slumber. The restraint is there however and he leaves before the other man has a chance to wake up. Banks is making himself sick keeping the secret inside. A waiting car steals him away.


He has nothing to do all morning. It is the afternoon when he is going to be busy because he has two interviews to complete as well as a follow up meeting to discuss future endorsements. The hours cannot physically go by any slower as the morning drags on for an eternity. Lloyd Banks sits in Central Park by himself and puts his hat closer to his face to obscure it as much as possible. People casually stroll by talking, laughing, and enjoying life as he looks at them with slight envy. He is stopping himself from having what the rest of them have and he hates it. Vibrations shock against his leg because his cell phone is going off deep down in his pants pocket. It is him. He cannot answer. The dead phone rests on his lap as the rap star looks around and tries to find a way to fix his broken life. Try to find a way to take back the night with 50 Cent; both of them. A different series of vibrations shake against his lap this time, signifying an incoming text message. Ludacris has to go back to take care of new issues. He does not know how to accept the news.


The final conference of his rocky day concludes at exactly seven in the evening and he is back to the suite he unwillingly shared with his boyfriend the previous night before. Dinner and a shower fight off all the stress of the day but his mind and heart are still heavily consumed with his own guilt. Banks looks at the one text message over and over; it has been on his conscience all day. His fingers start dialing his boyfriend’s number but he tosses the piece of technology aside before it is sent into the cosmos. A glass of orange juice soothes his throat and takes his thirst away but the TV does not manage t hold his attention for long. When a disruption of the G-Unit member’s phone via vibrating and a loud ringing breaks the cohesion of the room, he walks over to see if it is Ludacris trying to reach him again. It is not. Through a text message, Dr. Dré informs him that there is a very important meeting that requires his presence tomorrow morning at Interscope. The producer is always serious about these types of meetings so he makes plans to be there.


A sudden thought enters Lloyd Banks’ mind as he is entering a white Yukon Denali on his way to the meeting. 50 will definitely be there; this will be the first time both men will be in the same place together since being in his mansion in Connecticut. Being in his room and on his bed together. He knew the day would come but a small part him truly believed that the prophecy would never come to pass. Traffic is horrendous in downtown Los Angeles as he feels the car swerve in and out of lanes around him. His mind is full as he enters the executive building and walks up to the elevator. A crowd of people exit and the slim rapper enters with another crowd of people. He pushes the button to his designated floor and stays in complete silence. The Interscope office surrounds him now and he walks over to the large conference room where the team has all their formal meetings. To his surprise and pure disbelief, 50 Cent is the only one in the room when he opens the door. The fates continue to play their cruel tricks on him. He slips in and sits at the table’s end.


“You just gonna sit there and not say hi?” 50 asks as he looks up from the paperwork displayed in front of him that he was just studying.


“Didn’t wanna disturb you.”


“You never disturb me,” he comes back quickly with.


“Where’s everyone else?” Banks changes the subject immediately.


“Should be on their way. Why you sittin’ so far away? I ain’t gonna bite ya.”


“Dunno.” He wants someone, anyone to come into the room right now.


“We gotta talk. You’ve been avoiding me Chris,” the older rap star gathers up all his papers and walks down the length of the table to where his best friend is. He takes a seat next to him.


“Been real busy.”


“Can’t use that excuse all the time---”


“What up boys?” Eminem bursts into the room and says. He just saved Lloyd Banks from confronting his problems.


“Chillin’ nigga.” He is grateful that someone else is in the room now. They all shake hands.


“What’s this meeting about?” 50 Cent asks. He cannot take his eyes off the man next to him but he tries to.


“Dunno myself. I was just told to come here so here I am.”


“Must be important,” the slender star chimes in.


“We’ll see.”


The white rap superstar takes a seat next to 50 and all three men start talking in the large conference room, waiting for everyone else to arrive and for the meeting to start. There is less tension in the air now because there are more than just the two of them in the room alone. Sunlight gleams in through various windows and Lloyd Banks starts to get into his business mindset because he knows the meeting will start sooner than later. Time is money in their business and neither can be wasted or lost. After a short wait, the door smoothly opens and Olivia and Young Buck enter to join their colleagues. Everyone greets everyone else and it is not long after when Dr. Dré enters with a folder in his hand. Another round of greetings ensues and everyone finally takes their seats to begin the meeting. 50 Cent feels the first lady of G-Unit’s eyes on him but his eyes are on Banks. Things between them are so complicated and raw. The producer opens his file and starts studying the contents inside while everyone around the table have their eyes on him. It starts.


“Don’t worry. None of y’all in trouble,” he starts off by saying.


“I know you relieved Fif,” Eminem snickers playfully as he pats his friend on the back.


“Shut it white boy.”


“Aight. This won’t last long because I know how busy we all are or can be so I’ll make this brief.”


“What’s going on?” Buck asks the room.


“The execs signed another act to G-Unit.”


“What? When’d this happen?” 50 says almost immediately. Lately, it seems like he is the last to know anything about his own group.


“When you were on your, shall we say, vacation. By the way, you good?”


“I’m good. They ain’t caught the bastard yet.”


“They will,” Dr. Dré offers kindly.


“So who is it?” Olivia is the one to speak.


“His name’s Jayceon Taylor. But he goes by The Game.” Everyone in the room look at each other. “He’s upstairs finishing up the contracts.”


“Where’d you get him?” the buff rapper is curious to know.


“His mixtape ended up in my hands and the rest is history. He can spit.”


Slim Shady smiles. “Sounds good to me. The more the merrier.”


“I gotta hear some of his stuff,” the G-Unit founder says.


“We all will. I got one of his tapes here. We’ll listen to it when he comes down here.”


“G-Unit is growing,” Olivia states to no one in particular.


“It’s all for the better,” the super producer ensures the entire group.


The team continues with their conversation until the door swings open and he walks in. 50 takes notice of him at once. The teardrop close to his eye, his thuggish demeanor, and general attitude. He will work well in G-Unit and will fit in right away. They all get up and shake his hand as he takes a seat next to Dr. Dré, who fills him in on what went on at their meeting. They all cannot keep their eyes off of him; he notices but it does not bother him. Lloyd Banks studies his new colleague and it seems like he is a good guy. His skills have to be put to the test and once that is over, they all will truly be pleased. The Game looks suave in a dark blue polo shirt and baggy jeans of the same color. White Air Force Ones cover his feet and a hat tilted to the side adorns his head. 50 instantly sees his charisma in his smile; it is also charming. The producer plays the mixtape for the small crowd to listen to and is busily writing in the file he walked into the room with. The newly signed artist’s raspy voice fills the large conference room and he observes his colleagues.


Eminem smiles to himself because his partner has done it again; he has found the label yet another bona fide rap superstar. Only minor tweaks and adjustments are needed but the newest member of G-Unit will dominate the top for sure. There is a lot of faith in him and both Banks and Buck commend him on his rhymes after the mixtape finishes running. Olivia too compliments him as Dré busily explains to the group their next course of action because the meeting is already running too long. 50 Cent does not say anything; he likes what he hears but also feels a slight bit of jealously because of the other man. He is far too proud to admit it to himself but he is aware of what it truly is. The gathering comes to a close and everyone gets up to go their separate ways once again. Young Buck is the first to head out and when the first female of G-Unit receives a call, she too leaves. Slim Shady is talking to Dr. Dré at the beginning of the room and Lloyd Banks steps out to get himself something to drink. When 50 looks up, their eyes meet, almost as if by sheer magic.


“So I guess you my boss then---” he states after walking up to the muscular rapper. “Ay I’m sorry man. I heard what happened.”


“It’s to be expected. You know there’s haters out there.”


“Ain’t it the truth.” He notices that the other man has the most enticing caramel colored eyes. “That mixtape was hot as hell.”


“Thanks. Worked hard on it.”


“I bet. You got the skill we lookin for’. Welcome to the team boy,” 50 extends his hand for a shake.


The Game takes it in his own and both men embrace for a moment. Both their hard bodies are pressed up against each other’s for a short time. “Good to be on here,” he says when they break apart.


“I gotta catch you later man. I gotta meet up with someone,” the G-Unit founder says as he suddenly remembers Lloyd Banks and the fact that they need to talk badly. He cannot help but notice how good the newest member to his team smells when they are hugging.


“You leavin’” Eminem asks when they almost run into each other outside in the hall.


“Naw. I’m lookin’ for Banks. You seen him?”


“Last I saw he was waitin’ by the elevator. Said he had some shit to take care of.”


“Aight white boy. Catch ya later.”


50 Cent calmly but quickly walks toward the elevator, hoping he is not too late. “You leavin’?”


“Yea. I got this appearance to make later,” Lloyd Banks says with almost no emotion in his voice. It is another lie and he is getting tired of the constant dodging his live has become since sleeping with the man in front of him.


“When we gonna talk about it Chris?”


“’Bout what?”


“You know what.” The elevator signals itself being on their floor and the doors split open. Surprisingly, no one is in the metal box. They get in.


“Don’t got the time.”


“Stop givin’ me that shit. I know you felt what I felt.”


“What’d you feel?”


“I told you already. Love.” The older rapper is not ashamed to say it as the elevator keeps descending to the first floor of the building.


“Naw. I don’t love you. You got it confused---”


“Stop playin’ with me! You wanted this before and now that I want it too you don’t? What kinda bullshit is that?”


Banks closes his eyes and wishes he was anywhere but here. When the elevator dings again, he gets out and is relieved to see his driver waiting for him beyond the glass doors of the building. “Later Fifty.”


“This is fucked up. Stop runnin’ away.”


50 Cent is left on the sidewalk by himself as he watches the black car pull into the bustling streets of Los Angeles and disappear soon after that. Although the sidewalk is crowded with people walking by, he suddenly feels like the only one and wonders what is truly going on with the man that just basically ran away from him. His mind is deep in thought as he still continues to gaze out at the street to try and put his life back to how it used to be. The superstar rapper is not used to this; he has not been in love since Marquise’s mother but even then, that was different. That is how it is meant to be. Him loving Lloyd Banks is completely unexplored territory and he is beginning to question if it is love. It has to be because he has not felt this way in a very long time. He had it with his former girlfriend for a time but it dissipated because his career forced it to be. He wants to hold on to Banks tightly and never let go of him; that is how he knows it is love. It cannot be anything else. 50 wants to kiss him again. He wants to hold him and talk to him again.


“You aight?” a voice from behind him asks. “You look mad.”


“Huh?” he turns around to come face to face with the same intense, piercing caramel eyes as before. “Naw. I’m good.”


“You and one of the boys had a fight?”


“A lil’ disagreement. You know how the business is.”


“You wanna talk ‘bout it?” The Game offers to his new boss and hopefully, friend.


“Nah. It’ll blow over soon. I know it.”


“Aight Fifty man. I gotta head outta here. I’ll catch up with you later?”


“Straight. Call me Curtis though.”


“You got it.” Their hands touch in a firm shake before their bodies meet in a half hug. It surprises 50 how smooth the other man’s hands are. They feel sinfully soft and he sees the immediate irony.


The nights are cold and lonely for him. They are still playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse and the rap star is getting tired of it already. Lloyd Banks is already in his heart; he wants him everywhere else now. Sleepless nights are wasted because no solution presents themselves and hope is slowly starting to drip away from his sanity. He can physically feel the other man’s lips on his own, still. The taste of kisses quivers on his lips and taunt him unmercifully. 50 cannot do anything because he does not know what to do to get the man he loves back. This is not like him. He cannot simply move on to the next person because Banks is not like anyone else. He can give the G-Unit founder what no one else can and for this he is sure that he is the one for him. Why are things so impossible between them? Red strokes of the digital clock displays the time of four in the morning and 50 Cent has been thinking all night with nothing to show for it. His body wants to break down but he is not letting it because he wants solutions now. Being together in Connecticut was great.


As best he can, the buff superstar goes on with his life through his alter ego, the only side the public gets to see. An appointment at the studio with him, Dr. Dré, and The Game proves that the up and coming rapper has the skill and drive that will take him to the top. The session lasts for a few hours and they manage to lay down three test songs to test his range and abilities. 50 notices the newest member to his team looking at him on several occasions throughout the entire recording gathering but he does not give it a second thought because he wants to leave and find Lloyd Banks in the concrete jungle known as New York. The three rappers part ways in the middle of the afternoon and go back to their lives through separate ways. His phone displays a few text messages form Eminem as well as Young Buck. Things are uncertain between him and Olivia as well; another problem he has to fix before it gets too out of hand. He regrets ever starting an intimate relationship with her. 50 Cent realizes that Banks was right; he was using her to hold on to his manhood.


Lukewarm water drizzles down a muscular body as ebony skin sparkles because of the transparent beads of wetness coming in contact with it. A shower is just what he needs to slow down and try to enjoy life, no matter how messed up he makes it for himself. Why did he wait this long to realize how much he wants Lloyd Banks? A soft soap cleans 50 Cent’s dark skin and the running water washes it away, signifying that the shower is done. His eyes pierce holes through the bathroom mirror as he stands in front of it naked and stares deep into them. He sees how much he is hurting and worries if anyone else can see it as well. It is something he definitely does not want because he is not weak on any level nor does he want others viewing him as such. Through the closed door, he can hear his cell phone going off loudly on his bed; it breaks his intense gaze into his own soul. 50 grabs a nearby towel and drapes it around himself before walking into the bedroom to answer the howling phone. Goosebumps instantly rise on his skin because he is still a bit wet.


“What you want white nigga?” he asks immediately into the phone.


“That how you answer the phone fuck boy?” Eminem snaps back.


“Only for you babe. What good with ya?”


“Where were you? I called yo ass ‘bout four times already.”


“I was takin’ a shower.”


“Oh. You had a female in there? My b man---”


50 laughs at the insinuation. “Nah. Not tonight Slim.”


“Good; then this works out.”


“What works out?”


“I need a favor nigga,” the white rap superstar states.


“Uh oh. Here it comes. Why you always call me when you want somethin’? You don’t ever call just to say hi punk?” he teases. Having someone to talk to and mess around with has always helped him when something is bothering him.


“You and yo damn drama. Worse than a bitch C I swear.”


You hurtin’ my feelings Em.”


“Shit I’m sorry. I really need this favor so I gotta kiss yo ass.”


“Get the puckerin’.”


“Fuck you!”


“What you want boy?” the G-Unit member dares ask as he switches his phone to speaker and tries to finish drying himself off at the same time.


“You doin’ somethin’ tonight?” his voice suddenly fills the room.


“Naw. Why?”


“I was gonna make this appearance at this party downtown but I can’t. Somethin’ came up and I gotta jet outta New York. I’m going to the airport now.”


“Word? Anything serious?”


“Naw. I just forgot that I had other plans,” Slim Shady starts to explain to his best friend.


“So you want me to show up huh?”


“Please C---”


A sigh comes over the line. “Only for you white boy.”


“Thanks man. I appreciate it.”


“Aight. Tell me where I need to be tonight now.”


The two superstars exchange information on where he now needs to be for the night and although he does not feel like going anywhere, he is going to force himself to go because he knows he will do almost anything for Eminem. They are brothers, despite their dramatic skin color differences. The buff rapper towels himself off before finding a pair of black boxers in his suitcase to put on. He calls a driver and informs him where he has to be for the night before returning to get dressed. It is nearly eight and while there is no set time for him to be at the gathering, he wants to be in and out of there as early as he can because he needs sleep; it has been deprived from him for the past days. 50 Cent pulls up a pair of blue baggy jeans to his waist and secures it there with a belt before grabbing a nearby bottle of lotion and squeezing some onto his hand. He presses the liquid onto his hard stomach and rubs back and forth for the skin to absorb it all. His back and arms are next to become coated. 50 finally applies a small amount onto his face before putting the bottle back where it was.


A black and blue striped polo shirt covers his bulging chest and he looks into the mirror to fix the floppy collar. He looks good. He adjusts his pant legs over a pair of black Timbaland boots and completes the outfit with a certain amount of dazzling jewelry pieces. A low hanging platinum chain looks icy against the black of his shirt and an enormous ring slides onto his pinky finger. An exclusive watch from Swiss watchmaker Girard-Perregaux adorns 50’s thick wrist and a strongly scented Dolce & Gabanna cologne makes him smell irresistible. A vibration of his cell phone informs him that the driver is awaiting him downstairs. The mirror gets one final look at him before he puts his cell phone and wallet in their respective pockets and walks out of the now darkened room. Many people pass him in the hotel but he is not stopped once because most of them are old couples most likely enjoying a second honeymoon or vacation together. He is not recognized and this is good. A white Escalade is sitting outside. Maybe tonight will help keep his mind off Lloyd Banks.