Game Over Read Online Free PDF Page B

possibilities of being a business owner first hand.
    During our time together, although he gave me as much time as he could, he was always on the phone, usually about business. There were discussions with his associates about Roc-A-Fella’s next step, such as other artists, movies, endorsements, etc, etc. Even back then, he wasn’t content with just owning a label. He wanted a conglomerate and he was relentless at achieving it.
    Most women would have been bored to death with such an ambitious man, especially those as young as I was. But real talk : it all intrigued me. Watching a powerful man make moves, always having dreams, keeping focused on his vision and never giving up in a cold industry. I loved watching, learning, and being in the mix. I felt like he was a teacher and me, the student. It was because of him, my determination multiplied. His work ethic had rubbed off on me although at the time I didn’t know it. I realize now, he was helping me grow up. Sometimes, I’d get upset since he ate, slept, and drank Roc-A-Fella. With him, it was Roc-A-Fella first and everything else second, including me. Well, with the exception of his first born who was roughly six years old at the time. Seeing him in father mode did something to my insides. It made me wonder why my father was never as involved with me as Dame was with his son, which made me think back to my infrequent times with my biological father. 
    Riding in his car, I felt empty inside. My long, pig tails swung as I kept my face turned to the window. As usual there wasn’t much conversation. There was nothing to talk about. It was like being with a stranger, the strangers my grandmother warned me about, yet this was my biological father. At nine, I had no choice but to go with him since that’s what my mother had ordered. I talked shit in my head as we drove knowing that if my maternal grandmother found out she’d go nuts on everyone. The last time I had been in my father’s presence was about three years prior. It didn’t turn out too good and after that my grandmother forbade me to go around him ever again. She had no idea my mother allowed him to pick me up.
    Although my facial features resembled his, we had nothing more in common. Even at that young age, I understood the rumors about the heroin and his drug usage. I understood some of the stories I’d overheard about him cheating on my mother when she was pregnant with me. I understood the talk about him being in and out of jail. It scared me to the core. Even though I grew up seeing people in the neighborhood using drugs, to know that your own father was one of them did something to my insides. I rode in silence hoping he’d at least drop me off at his mother’s house like he always did, the few times he picked me up since him and my mother had split for the last time. At least there I would be safe.  
    I t didn’t take long to arrive at his mother’s house, which was also in Brooklyn. It was the only place he knew to take me, getting me off of his hands. A smile slipped from the side of my mouth as soon as the car door opened. It was an opportunity to both get away from my father, yet also play with my many cousins whom my paternal grandmother took care of.
    As soon as I stepped inside, the hugs and kisses flew from my grandmother and some cousins, too. I hadn’t seen them since the last infrequent visit but nothing had changed. The stares began from a few. They were the only family in my age group, but they were way different from me, which made me the black sheep at my paternal grandmother’s house. I’m certain they hated the fact that our grandmother, their caregiver, catered to me when I showed up. It was clear that even without a father in my life, my status differed from theirs.  
    With so many deaths and suffrage on their side of the family along with seeing my father in and out of prison, it was abnormal to me. Life at their house felt like everyone was always grieving, so much