~> 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.

 

It is nearly six o'clock exactly when 50 Cent wakes and sits up on the sofa. Everything from last night floods his mind as he wonders why he is on the sofa. His skin burns because of how hard he scrubbed it last night. The mere thought of the act last disgusts him and he tried so hard to get that feeling off of his body by scrubbing it away. Hard. It did not work and he feels miserable and knows he cannot face Banks at all. As quietly as he can, he gets up and makes his way back into the room through the dark. Lloyd Banks' body is spread out on his bed with the blanket and several pillows on the floor. He physically cannot look at him and quickly rummages through his things to get some clothes on. Once adorned in a pair of baggy jeans and a loose-fitting shirt, the rapper grabs a matching hat with the letters NY on it and slowly closes his room door before heading out of the suite. His feet are just walking, not having any idea where to go. It is still dark and rather chilly for a summer morning when 50 walks out of the hotel.

It is not helping him to run away from his problems right now but he knows no other way to deal with the fact that he slept with another man. There are people on the sidewalk and the streets are packed with cars as everyone is trying to get on with their everyday lives. 50 lowers his hat as close to his face as possible and sticks his hands in his pant pockets before walking among them, hoping that no one will recognize him. Most seem too caught up in their own lives to care and for this he is thankful. His mind is swimming as his feet walk to no specific location. For the first time in a very long time, the muscular rapper feels vulnerable and scared. In all honesty, he regrets last night. He hates himself for allowing it to go as far as it did and does not know how he can look Banks straight in the eyes again. 50 Cent is beating himself up and he doesn't truly understand the purpose why or how he can stop it. Almost suddenly, his small son Marquise runs into his mind. Every drop of blood in his body wants him to call his son and talk to him.

He needs to hear the young boy's voice and feels like he is going crazy as he retrieves his cell phone from his pocket and looks through it before dialing the number. "How are you?" he says as his son's mother picks up the phone.

"Curtis? It's six in the morning. What's going on?" she sounds restless.

"Nothing. Is Tré up for school?"

"No. It's too early. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says again. "I just wanna talk to him."

"Now?"

The rapper navigates through a small crowd and ends up in a dead end alley. He rests his back to the wall of a building and his head against it before saying, "I really wanna talk to him."

"Okay, let me go wake him up. Are you sure everything's okay Curtis?"

"Everything's cool."

"If you're sure," she says as she gets out of her bed with the cordless phone and walks to her son's room.

"Dad?" his son's groggy and almost incoherent voice comes on the phone.

"Sup Twenty-five Cent?"

"Hi dad," he says in a half awake voice.

The rapper suddenly feels guilty about waking his little boy up. "I'm sorry I woke you up son."

"It's okay," his voice takes a minute but is now full of life. "How are you daddy?"

"I'm okay buddy. Just wanted to talk a little before you went to school."

"You don't sound okay," he innocently observes. His father can never lie to him.

"I am son. How are you Tré ? How's school?"

"Um good. My teacher gives me a lot of homework now."

"Why?"

"I dunno. I miss you daddy."

"I know. I miss you a lot too baby boy. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"You're lying to me."

"I'm not Tré ," the superstar rapper continues to deny it. He honestly does not know why he wanted to call his son so bad this morning. "Can't a father call to see how his one and only son is?"

"Yea," Marquise replies, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Sorry daddy."

"Don't be. You only looking out for me right?"

"Always! Someone has to right?" he says cutely.

"Well I'm glad it's you."

"Yep! Me too. Are you working?"

"I'm always working kid," the rapper laughs.

"You're a busy guy. What are you doing today?"

"A couple of interviews and some other stuff."

"Sounds fun."

"Very," he says sarcastically. "Be a good boy in school today okay?"

"I'm always a good boy."

"Yea. I forgot."

"I gotta go get ready for school," Marquise groans.

"Okay," the rapper says in an equally sad voice. "Daddy loves you so much Tré ."

"I love you a lot Fifty!"

"Hey!"

His son laughs at his father's reaction and hearing this laughter manages to calm 50 Cent down and make him forget everything on his mind. They talk for a few more minutes before Marquise's mother comes on the phone and talks to him for a short while, asking him if he is okay on several more occasions. He lies to her and although she knows this, she lets it go because she has no right to badger her former lover. The Sun begins to rise in the east and the sidewalks and streets of New York City becomes more packed so the rapper decides to head back to the hotel before things become out of hand, but he doesn't want too. He doesn't know what to say or do as he tries to make it back to the hotel without being noticed. Somewhere inside him, 50 hopes that Banks left his room because he doesn't want to deal with his situation but it is still too early. With his hands deep in his pockets, the uneasy rapper begins to walk back to the hotel. He wants the walk to last forever because facing the man in his hotel room is the scariest thought in his mind.

The Sun's rays begin to creep into the suite and up along the bed where Lloyd Banks is sleeping. His bare chest reflects sunlight and he starts tossing and turning in 50 Cent's bed because the rays are shining on his face. It does not take long before he wakes up and sits on the bed, rubbing his eyes. For a moment he does not recognize the hotel room as his but as his mind becomes clearer, the events of last night come back to him, along with a sharp pain along his lower abdomen. He rubs his lower stomach in an attempt to relieve the pain but it does not help much. He tries to relax himself but the pain is intense so he gets up and slips on his boxers from last night before slowly walking into the bathroom to find some painkillers. In the medicine cabinet, there is a bottle of Tylenol and he pops four into his mouth. It suddenly comes to him that he has a radio interview this morning and he tries his best to rush and gather his clothes and put them on. The rapper's publicist calls to see where he is and to tell him that he is late. He leaves in a rush.

A driver picks him up as soon as he reaches the lobby of the hotel and takes him back to his own hotel so he can shower and change before the interview, although he is already late. His entire body is sticky and he feels dirty as he sits on the back seat of the black Escalade and tries to find a position that is comfortable to him. His body hurts and his mind races on the past night's events, wondering how to make sense of it all. His mind also wanders to 50 Cent and where he left to before they could talk about what happened. Banks is scared to call him because he does not know what to say. He wanted last night to happen and he wants it to happen again and again if possible. He is almost positive that on 50's part though, it is a one time thing. The rapper cannot help how he feels and tries his best to put everything out of his mind as he gets to his hotel. He cannot show any of his true feelings in public and tells himself to be extra careful on the radio interview he is about to go to. He enters his room and starts for the shower.

50 Cent slides the keycard to grant him entrance into his suite and slowly opens the door. His heart beats at a somewhat irregular rhythm as he walks into his room and drops his hat on a nearby chair. The rapper walks into his room and stops at the doorway when he sees his bed empty, the blanket and pillows back on the bed. Banks is not there. He sits on the bed with his forearms on his knees and his head hanging low, staring at the floor, wondering what he is going to do. He does not want to work right now, nor go anywhere because he doesn't feel like it. It has to get done however so he just waits for his publicist to call him to let him know where he needs to be. A huge part of him is happy to find the room abandoned but a very small part wants Banks there so they can talk and figure out where they now stand with each other. He knows it's there so he does not try to deny it. He takes his cell phone from his pocket and tosses it on the bed as he lays back and looks up at the ceiling, not aware when he begins to slumber off.

It is dark outside and the rapper is sitting on a bed with a white tank top and a pair of shorts on. He does not know where he is or what is going on but something is off. He is tired and his eyes hurt as he gets up and walks to the door. He sees Lloyd Banks in the kitchen getting something to drink and immediately notices that something is wrong with his friend. He cannot tell what though because he is hiding it very well. Nothing is said as the young rapper looks at him and then goes back to looking through the cupboards to find a glass. 50 sits on a nearby chair and tries to concentrate on what is going on. His mind is blank and he is lost in his dream. For some reason, the look on Banks' face seems like a mixture of anger and hurt but he cannot be sure. The buff rapper calls out to him but is ignored as the man has his back to him. 50 Cent is right in his assumption and gets up and walks over to the kitchen to figure out what is going on with him. He steps in front of his friend and their eyes meet and lock together.

"What's going on Chris?"

"What you talking about kid?" Lloyd Banks fronts.

"I know you. Something's up."

"Naw man. I'm straight."

"Why you lying for?"

"What you want me to say Fif?"

"Something. Anything."

"The sky is blue," Banks replies in a slightly upset tone.

"You know what I mean." 50 tries his best to keep his patience. "Why you're acting like this," the rapper says as he follows his friend into the living room.

"Acting like what Curtis man?"

"You mad at me?"

"For what?"

"I don't know," he says, getting slightly angry now. "I know you are though."

"You regret that night?"

"I dunno. You?"

"I'm starting to."

"Why?"

"I dunno," Banks genuinely says.

"What, you wanted more?"

"In a way."

"More like what?"

"Forget it," Lloyd Banks hears himself snap.

"If you got something to say then say it Chris man."

"It's you nigga. I like you a lot."

"What?"

"I like you," he repeats again, quietly.

"What's that mean?"

"I want you."

"Banks I'm not a fag man."

"Why you frontin' for?"

"I'm not kid! We messed around once. We can't do that shit anymore."

"If we keep it on the low."

"I'm not taking that chance. This is crazy," 50 says before he gets up and walks toward the balcony of the hotel room. He looks back at Banks and says, "It's not worth it man."

"Do you want it?"

"No. It was one time and that's it."

The words hurt Banks but he does not let it show. He can't explain why he wants his best friend so much. "It's cool."

"You straight? Don't want this shit messing up our friendship. You my best friend."

"Yea whatever," the younger rapper brushes him off.

"Don't be like that."

"It's all good. I'm over it."

"Good."

50 Cent stares outside to a city he does not recognize as the conversation wanders through his mind. He knows he hurt Banks but he cannot help it. His career is what's at stake and he is not willing to give it up for sinful pleasure, no matter how good. In his mind, what they did is wrong and he will not allow it to happen again because that's not what he's about. He loves women and only women. He was horny and confused that night, or at least it is what he tells himself every chance he gets. The room is quiet and he does not know where Lloyd Banks is but he does not look back because he doesn't want to see his face. His eyes. The young rapper is on the sofa, wondering where to go after their conversation. He still wants 50 but he cannot pressure him into something he doesn't want to do. It is clear that there can't be anything else between them. He walks over to the rapper to tell him that everything is okay between them but the words do not come to him. He is at a loss for everything as they both gaze through the balcony.

Nothing is said between the two rappers but their minds are racing to find something to say that will end the awkward silence they are facing. He wants to say so much, every thought that is currently swimming through his head but he can't because they are not formulating themselves into words on his tongue. 50 Cent looks at his best friend and when he looks back, their eyes meet they stare at each other. The older rapper's eyes are dark brown and although he tries to look strong, Banks can see straight through that to the confusion and questions that reside there. As much as 50 says he regrets their night together, a part of him is still trying to come to grips with it and let it go. Some part of him liked it. Their faces automatically begin to move toward each other, though neither man knows why it is happen. Their eyes are still piercing through the others as their faces, and lips, are only mere inches away from the other man's. Their lips become closer and closer to touching until everything fades into blackness.

There is a loud ringing in his mind and his eyes struggle to open because he is so tired. When the rapper finally manages to force his eyes open and wait until it adjusts to the sunlight, he notices that it is his phone making the noise. 50 Cent answers it and looks at the clock on the wall; it is almost eleven. It is his publicist reminding him of the things he has to do today and they talk a short while before he hangs up. His eyes are pleading with him to go back to sleep but he can not now because his mind won't allow him. The dream seems so real to him and he wonders if that is how Lloyd Banks feels in real life. Thing are so complicated between them now. The younger rapper left the room without a trace earlier, hinting that something happened between them last night. The bed was the only thing messy and that is normal because 50 never makes up his bed. Deciding now was as good a time as any, the buff rapper walks into the large closet and looks for something to wear to begin his day. He hears his phone go off on the bed.

"Yea?"

"What's going on protégé?" he hears Eminem's cocky voice ask him.

"Chillin' white boy," 50 replies.

"Where you at nigga?"

"NY. `Bout to head out the door in a few."

"You meeting Dré in the studio?"

"Naw. Why, he say something?"

"He looking for you," Slim Shady informatively states.

"Why he ain't call me?"

"He probably will later. What, it's about ten over there?"

"Eleven white nigga."

"Watch yo mouth mutha fucker!"

"Fuck you! Where you at?"

"Still in Detroit with Hailie. She's not gonna let me go man," he laughs.

"That's good. Maybe she can keep yo ass outta trouble."

"How `bout we see how slick your mouth is when I drop your ass from the label?"

"You won't do that."

"Why's that?"

"Just because."

"We'll see. Cocky bastard," the white rapper comments.

"So what Dré want me in the studio for?"

"He got some new beats he wants you to hear. Plus you boys gotta get on Banks' album."

50 Cent does not know how to react to hearing his best friend's name. "Word?"

"You know if he in NY or what?"

"Yea," the rapper replies softly. "We hung out last night."

"Straight. He should be at the studio too."

"Yea."

"You aight nigga?"

"Huh?"

"What you and Banks have a fight?"

"What? Naw man."

"Whatever. You two squash your lil' lovers' spat and get on it. Time is money," Eminem states to the buff rapper in his businesslike tone.

"You gotta lay off the crack Slim. Shit's burning holes in ya brain."

"Ay fuck you man!"

"You started it. I'm just finishing it."

"What goes around comes around fuck nigga. Just remember that shit."

"Yea."

"Aight Fifty man. I'm about to go chill with Hailie on my vacation."

"Must be nice."

"Damn right. Holla at me kid."

"One white boy."

50 Cent clicks his phone and rests it on the bed next to him as he wonders what the rest of his day will be like, especially since he has to go into the studio with Banks later on. Things are going to be awkward to say the least but its work and it has to be done. There is no other way around it. The buff rapper contemplates to himself whether he should call his friend to tell him their date in the studio tonight but does not, or rather cannot. What can he possibly say to the man? He rests the thought in the back of his mind, deciding that he will call him later, and walks back into the closet to find some clothes to wear. 50 emerges once again when his phone rings; it is his driver telling him that he is downstairs and waiting for him. He finds a white polo shirt and puts it on over his bare chest and finds some black, baggy jeans to go along with it. In the bathroom he finds a do-rag and ties it securely before putting a white hat over his head. Once he has everything he needs, he puts his shades on and leaves the room.

His makeshift disguise of the do-rag, cap, and sunglasses does not work all that well because some of his fans recognize him as he steps out of the hotel. 50 Cent signs numerous autographs before getting into the black Escalade and having the driver speed off to the first radio station he is due at. The entire ride is spent calling various people and sending many text messages and e-mails that ranges from questions about his endorsement deals to record executives asking him if he is working on the next G-Unit album. Sometimes he wishes he could just smash his phone into pieces because of how much of his time it steals. Everybody wants a piece of him and since they cannot see him on an everyday basis, reaching him on his cell phone is the next best thing. The first interview goes by quickly and he does not mind this; the main topic they discuss is his personal life rather than his professional one. 50 wants to try and make it to the gym too but he doubts it since his day is full and he now has to meet Dr. Dré in the studio later.

The second interview turns out to be a repeat of the first one and 50 Cent is starting to get annoyed by it. In the car, he keeps pushing back the thought of calling Lloyd Banks so they can meet up at the studio later because he does not want too. It is too hard for him but figures he will muster up the courage sooner or later so it can get done. His last interview of the day is a welcomed change from the first two and for this the buff rapper is grateful. The entire conversation never leaves his professional life and that is what a real interview should be, not grilling him on who he is interested in or what is going on behind closed doors. It is around four in the afternoon when he finally wraps up all his meetings and when he is in the car, he feels his phone begin to vibrate. Dr. Dré tells him that he has to cancel their session tonight because of another appointment, which he understands completely. Life isn't always perfect and it will not always adhere to a set schedule. This also means he doesn't have to see Banks, another plus to him.

50 Cent takes his newly found free time to go and work out his body. He calls his two bodyguards, Caleb and Danny, to see if they're up for the gym. Caleb is out with his wife and the rapper does not persist but Danny is free and so he tells the driver to swing by his location to pick him up. Although he likes working out alone, he also likes it when he has people there he can trust, just to talk to and goof around with. Once the bodyguard is in the car, they head to the exclusive gym where 50 knows he will have his privacy. Danny is busily chatting on his cell phone while the superstar rapper sitting next to him is typing e-mails once again. He sends a text message to Eminem saying that his session with Dré and Banks is not going to happen today. The pair enters the gym through the back, as they did last time, and makes their way into the locker room to change. After they are dressed, the two men begin stretching out the muscles of their body on the mats before getting down to business. The eager rap artist heads straight towards the weight bench.

The workout is going great as Danny spots his boss and then they switch. After the bodyguard's arm feels like their about to fall off his body, the pair stop and move to other physical activities. 50 is on the treadmill running while his friend is on the floor working out his stomach and oblique muscles with short crunches. There isn't much talking between the two because they are conserving their energy to get the most out of the workout. The buff rapper doesn't really say much anyway because he knows that there are times where he can be easy to read and he doesn't want anyone to know anything about his night with Banks. He feels shame, embarrassment, and disgust at what they did and no one can ever know of his intimacy with another man. It will ruin him and everything he's worked for. He takes to the mats and starts doing some push-ups with both hands and then takes away one hand towards the end. After the duo do pull-ups, another set of crunches, and stretch their muscles to relax, they wrap and hit the showers.

50 Cent strips down in the locker room and makes his way into a stall to wash his sticky body. "Good workout Danny man."

The bodyguard steps next to him in the stall and turns on the water as well. "Yea. It was straight. So how are thing going boss?"

"Same old. You know how it is."

"You still stressed?"

"Hell yea! I need a vacation from this shit."

"Take one C. You gonna burn yourself out," Danny offers with genuine concern.

"Can't right now. Got too many things to see about."

"You never gonna stop being Fifty Cent huh?"

"Don't see how."

"Is that what you want?"

"Naw. I want it so it's all good," the rapper states as he grabs a nearby bar of soap and begins lathering up his body.

"Yea. There's nothing else better than being you right about now."

"I know. I'm the man."

"Don't get too cocky," he tries to deflate 50's ego.

"That's not what I pay you to say Danny."

"Forget you aight."

The exhilarated rapper washes his face under the spraying water before he gets out and wraps a towel around his waist. "You done or what?"

"What you in a rush for?"

"I'm a busy man."

"You ain't got nothing else to do tonight."

"How you know that?"

"Because I ain't heard a thing," Danny blatantly states before he shuts off the water and reaches for his towel. "I am your bodyguard after all. I know every move you make. It's my job."

"You like it?"

"What?"

"Being my bodyguard."

"Yea. I mean there are some days when you on your period but other than that, it's straight."

"Ha ha! Fuck you nigga."

"No thanks. I'm not a female or gay."

50 lets the words of his bodyguard linger in the air for a while before turning the conversation around completely. "I gotta make more time for the gym."

"Yea. You can't be getting all flabby and shit. The bitches won't love you anymore," Danny replies as he pinches the rapper's tight stomach. He barely catches anything.

"Nigga please. They love my charisma and charm," he says naively.

"Right. And you being so buff and worth all those millions don't mean shit to them?"

"It almost sounds like you care Danny man."

"Of course I do Fif. You my boss and my friend. I can't have you go out like that. Have some bitch come in here and take half of what you got."

"So stay away from them gold diggers then?" he laughs.

"Did I need to tell you?"

"Naw. I know."

"Just watch who you stick is all I'm saying. Use them rubbers."

"Oh yea. I don't want any more kids or female drama right about now. My career and son are about the only things I can handle these days."

"You'll be fine. Just look out for yourself C."

"Yea. Aww, you do care!" he teases his bodyguard.

"Nigga shut up!" the man laughs as he punches his boss hard on the arm.

Lloyd Banks is glad that he has been so busy recently because that way, his mind can be off of what he really wants to think about and try to figure out. He and 50 Cent have not spoken since their night together over a week ago mainly because he does not know what to say. A summery breeze blows through the city of Los Angeles when the rapper makes his way into his hotel room. It is around nine on the warm October night when Banks walks into his bedroom and sits on the edge of it, taking off his shoes and then shirt. The day was long for him because he had a photo shoot early in the morning that lasted longer than expected, a few special appearances to make, and an industry party he really should be at later. His body is too tired to move however so he decides to just relax in his hotel. He throws his shirt on the floor, next to his shoes, and lays back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as his eyes slowly start to close on him. The G-Unit rapper adjusts himself better on the bed and nods off to sleep, resting his overworked body.

The digital clock on the nightstand next to him says twelve when the rapper begins to toss and turn in his sleep. He sits up on the bed and rubs his eyes before looking at the time and getting off the bed, sleeping more than he initially intended. A few stars' light shine on his bare chest as he makes his way across his room toward the kitchen, where he hopes to find something to eat. He is hungry but does not want a full meal because he knows he will just waste it so he decides on a bowl of cereal. Lloyd Banks makes his way out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he puts on the TV and starts flipping through the channels. Munching away on his cereal, the young rapper finds nothing of interest to watch so he just settles for a late night show. He is not really interested and just finishes his food and turns it off. He is still tired but he wants a shower badly before he goes back to bed. Back in his room, Banks checks his silenced cell phone, too many missed calls to count, before grabbing a towel and walking into the bathroom.

The G-Unit member undresses and stares at his lean but muscled body in the mirror for a while. This is what his best friend saw that night, he thinks to himself. Everything. He remembers everything about that night and everything after, mainly the pain. His lower body still hurt, even a couple days after the older rapper was inside him and he remembers not being able to sit right and walking slightly off during those days. With all the pain, confusion, and everything else going on between him and 50 right now, he still does not regret what they did or the way the other man made him feel that night. He never felt that way before and cannot forget it. After staring into the mirror for what seems like hours, he finally takes steps toward the bathtub, opening the faucet to get the water running. He wants to relax but his mind will not let him because of how things are between himself and his fellow G-Unit member. He can call him but it won't be any use because the words won't be there. Everything between them has changed for the worse.

Lloyd Banks steps into the tub to jets streaming warm water across his body from every major angle. He puts his hand to his face and tries to wipe the water away before beginning to shower himself. The surrounding jets pulsate the water onto his body, which he finds quite relaxing, and he can feel his muscles begin to relax and loosen up. On top of the mess with 50 Cent, the last few weeks have been extra stressful because of the pressure on him by the record label to come out with his album and the amount of photo shoots, press conferences, radio interviews, and endorsement deals his publicist has tied his name to. He knows it is all necessary to stay on top of his game but it is too much at times. He knows he will get a call in the morning, if he didn't already, asking him why he is not at the industry party right now. It's not the time for that, he says to himself and tries to push everything out of his mind. Relax. With a bar of soap in his hand, Banks begins to soap his tattooed skin, being careful not to miss an inch.

His mind begins to once again think about his best friend 50 Cent and the results are becoming evident because his limp dick is starting to stir. Blood rushes into his rapidly hardening member and he is fully hard within a few moments. Banks does not want the thoughts in his mind but his body is fighting against him and begging for release it so desperately wants. His hand travels down his slim body, gently rubbing and teasing everything in its path. The rapper jacks his dick with strong, long strokes and inaudible noises are soon heard from the bathroom. He hasn't been with a woman since he and 50 slept together and he feels like he is about to explode. His rhythm is short and fast now, trying to speed up his movements to create the ultimate friction. The added effect of the water spraying his body from all sides is a welcoming pleasure as his entire body is at a heightened sensation. He notices every little pleasure on his body as he continues to work his rock hard meat; it shoots in and out of his smooth, wet hand.

The night with 50 Cent vividly comes back to him and only manages to fuel his passion-filled moment more. The way he tasted and felt and the things they did manage to overwhelm Banks and he goes on overload, jacking his dick furiously as moans and grunts escape his lips. The muscles in his stomach clench and tighten before a steady stream of cum bursts forth from his dick with great urgency. He continues to tease his member, milking every last drop of the white liquid before leaning against the tiled wall because he is spent. The water sprays everything away and he uses a few moments to catch his breath and gather his thoughts before finishing up his shower. He grabs a towel and dries off his skin before wrapping it around his waist and walking to the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and squirting toothpaste on it. After he is all refreshed and clean from head to toe, Lloyd Banks rifles through his suitcase for a pair of boxers and slips them on before hopping back into bed. Thoughts wander away from him.

50 Cent is able to avoid his best friend for almost three weeks but knows he no longer can because they have to get to work on his album. He and Dré set up a meeting for a studio in downtown LA tomorrow afternoon so the rapper has to catch the red eye to California tonight. He is just going to act as if nothing happened between he and Banks and not bring it up. If the other man does, then they will talk about it when they get some private time because it is all about work right now so everything has to be put aside. Banks knows this. Seeing as the buff rapper has to catch a flight to LA tonight, he decides to drop by and see his son before making his way to the airport. It is mid afternoon and Marquise will be out of school soon. He and his son's mother make arrangements for him to pick up the boy from school and he couldn't be more excited, seeing as how this is the first time he has picked up his little boy from school. 50 puts his hat on and walks toward the school from the parked car. It is packed as he navigates through everyone.

He walks until he recognizes his son, who is with a small group of students and the teacher. Marquise sees his father and immediately gets excited. "That's my dad Mrs. Green," he says to his teacher as he leaves the group and quickly walks toward him.

"Marquise? Wait," she walks after him.

"Daddy?" he excitedly asks as he walks up to the man.

"Tré my man!" 50 says as he scoops up his son into his arms. "How are you buddy?"

"That's my teacher coming."

The teacher walks up to the pair to make sure the child is with the right person. "Hello. I'm Mrs. Green," she extends her hand.

The rapper takes it in his own. "Hi. I'm Curtis, Tré 's dad."

"It's a pleasure Mr. Jackson. I had to be sure he was going home with someone he knows and you've never picked him up before."

"I understand Mrs. Green. Thank you."

"I must tell you what a special child Marquise is. He really is a pleasure to have in my class. I enjoy teaching him."

"Thank you. Has he been a good boy?" 50 asks her as Marquise gives him a look.

"Oh of course," the teacher says with delight. "He is such a well-mannered and intelligent little boy."

"You are?" he asks his son. "Good boy!"

"I better be getting back. Don't forget to do your homework Marquise. I'll see you tomorrow," she waves.

"Bye Mrs. Green."

"You a good boy in school?"

"Yep. Mommy tells me to always behave myself."

"She's right."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to pick you up from school buddy. What, you're not happy to see me?" he slightly frowns as they walk back to the car; he is still carrying his little boy.

"I didn't say that. I'm always happy to see you daddy!" the boy says and hugs his father tightly.

"That's what I'm talking about. How was school son?"

"It was good. I did math and art and played outside and ate lunch---"

"All that?"

"Yep. So what are you doing here?" the young boy asks again as they get into the car.

"I have to leave tonight so I came to hang out with you for a while."

"Where are you going?"

"To Los Angeles to get some stuff done."

"I've never been there," Marquise says. He sounds sad.

"It's only for a little while baby boy. That's why I came to get you. I couldn't leave without seeing you first. I'll take you sometime okay?"

"Okay. What are you going to be doing?"

"I gotta help Banks with his album."

"I remember him. He's the one who always calls me squirt."

"Yea."

"Is he okay?"

"Yea," 50 replies, his mind now running on his best friend and their night together. "He's doing good. Busy guy."

"Just like you."

"Yep."

"He's a cool guy daddy. I like him," Marquise says honestly.

"Yea he is Tré . He's a good guy."

The father and son duo talk until he notices that they are in Marquise's neighborhood. He gives the driver instructions on when to pick him up to take him to the airport and the driver takes off while 50 Cent holds his son's hands and they walk up to the house. Marquise's mother is relieved to see her son at the door when they knock and she lets them inside. The little boy runs up to his room to put his book bag down and change his clothes before returning and telling his mother that he is hungry. The rapper sits in the living room and barely notices him until his son tackles him on the sofa. They wrestle for dominance but it is more fun than anything else because both are laughing and having a good time. His mother returns with some food and juice for her son and a beer for her former lover. He eats and drinks in record speed before returning to playing with his father. 50 gulps his beer while his son is behind him and attempting to wrap his small hands around his father's neck. The hours go by like clockwork.

Marquise sports a huge frown on his face when he begins to walk his dad out to the car that he rode in earlier. 50 feels guilty about it but he has to go and get this done without procrastinating anymore. He grabs the little boy into his arms and kisses him everywhere because he is truly going to miss him. He never likes leaving him now because he has become so attached to his little man. Marquise sweetly kisses his father on the cheek and whispers how much he loves him before the rapper put him down. He looks at his former lover and she tries hard to just put on a smile and be okay with everything but she is not. She hates it every time he breaks their child's heart but she also knows that he is a good father and trying his hardest to stay that. Circumstances are just not on their side and she finds solace in that. The pair wave to the buff man as he hops into the car and the driver speeds off. The traffic is moderate as he rests his head back and closes his eyes; he is tired but happy he got the opportunity to see his son before he leaves NY.