SEVEN

883 20 2
                                    

"Assault and battery, emotional damage, stressful situations. If she loses her baby, she can sue for emotional distress." Jerry read out loud, from the letter in his hand. "A settlement has been placed at $10,000"

I placed my hand on my head sighing. "What the fuck..." I mumbled. 

It's been three weeks since I came home, and all this damn drama, was still goin' on. And we're just about done with the album; we're finishing tonight. Assault and battery? Regina's the one who  snuck into my room and tried to do... ion know what she was tryin' to do. But I reacted how I would, to anyone. Now, I could be facin' jail time? Shit.

She ain't press charges against Eric. She wouldn't, she wants to ruin my life. Regina is fuckin' crazy. "How much is a lawyer Jerry?"

"Cube, don't worry about that. I have an attorney okay? Just, focus on the album for right now." He rubbed my shoulder, trying to comfort me.

I nodded goin' back into the studio. Dre was workin' on the SSL board, his friend D.O.C. was writing with Ren. I took a seat by mixing board, just tryin' to think. If I lose this case and go to jail, I'm fucked.

Eric came bounding in holding yellin' bout somethin', I just tuned him out. My back ached and I just wanted to go home, and be under Love. She was stressin' out, and I ain't blame her. Love, was giving a warning; she couldn't say anything to Regina or she could get charges pressed against her as well.

"You straight, Cube?" Yella asked breaking me out my thoughts.

"Yeah." I said. "Yo E, what about our contracts?"

He smacked his teeth at me. "Cube, ain't you got enough problems to do deal with? I'll tell you when the contracts are done, okay?"

I wasn't in no mood to argue, so I just nodded. But, I wasn't gon' let that slide. I'm writin' lyrics, puttin' my time and effort into this; where's my legal contractual agreement?

After recording the last song of the day, 'Parental Discretion'  Dre, was the last one in the studio. He had a few more mixes to clean up and then, our record would be done. We're callin' it, 'Straight Outta Compton'. 

Once I got home, I ain't want no dinner, I just wanted to lay down.

"O'Shea, c'mere." It was my father.

Holding back my eye roll, I went and sat next to him. "Wassup?"

"Here." He handed me an envelope in my hand.

I raised my eyebrow. "What's this Pop?"

"Some help. It ain't much, but you'll need some legal representation." He patted my shoulder.

I shook my head givin' it back to him. I couldn't accept my father's money, and pay for this bullshit. "Nah, Pops, I can't take this. I got this under control."

He just nodded sitting the money on the table. "The offer still stands, son."

We hugged and I went upstairs. Opening my door, I was met with some scented candles, and soft music. Tilting my head, I looked around for Love. My closet door was open, so I went over to it. "Babygirl?"

She was digging through my clean clothes hamper. Jumpin' she turned lookin' at me. "Oh Shea! You're here."

"Yeah..." I nodded my head slowly. "Whatchu doin'?"

Gettin' closer to me, she rubbed my chest with her soft hands. I leaned down kissing her, wrapping my arms around her waist. With all the damn drama, me and Love ain't had no time to ourselves. Plus, she's been gettin' weird ass hours at work, cause of Regina.

With love, from O'sheaWhere stories live. Discover now