Tupac: greatest rapper live

The vibe around me changed completely after that first date with Britney. I couldn't stop smiling, humming, or tapping my feet to love songs. Everything seemed brighter, like the world had a new glow.

Songs like "Sexual Healing" by Marvin Gaye and "Endless Love" by Diana Ross and Lionel Richie filled my head. I'd hum "Careless Whisper" by George Michael on my way to the studio, and I'd belt out "How Deep Is Your Love" by the Bee Gees while walking down the street. I couldn't help myself.

It was love, man. Pure, sweet, and intoxicating. I was in a bubble of happiness, and I wanted the whole world to know it.

---

At the studio, the Wreckin' Cru crew noticed the change. There was DJ Yella, always with a cool vibe; Cli-N-Tel, the quiet genius; and, of course, Dre, who was always the leader of the pack.

One day, they were all gathered around while I worked on some new material. My usual demeanor—the tough, witty, and sometimes crude lyricist—was nowhere to be found.

"Yo, PAC," Yella said, laughing, "you've been walking around like someone handed you a million dollars."

"Nah, man," Cli-N-Tel chimed in, grinning, "he's in love. Look at him! Dude's glowing!"

Dre smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Y'all don't even know. He's been talking about this girl nonstop. Here, check this out."

He pulled a photo out of his jacket pocket—the one he'd secretly snapped of me and Britney on our first date. Everyone leaned in, their jaws dropping.

"Damn, PAC," Yella said, shaking his head. "This your girl? She fine as hell, man!"

"You're telling me this broke a** nig** pulled her?" Cli-N-Tel said, looking genuinely shocked.

"Man, I can't even believe it," Yella added. "PAC, you've been holding out on us!"

I just smiled, the same goofy grin I'd had since that first date.

Dre laughed. "He's been like this ever since. Writing love songs, humming in the studio, and grinning like a fool. It's all Britney this, Britney that. Y'all should hear the stuff he's been working on."

With the same smile on my face, I turned to Dre. "Yo, Dre, can you play that beat I was talking about earlier?"

Dre raised an eyebrow but went over to the soundboard. "Alright, PAC. Let's hear what you got."

Everyone in the room quieted down, expecting my usual hard-hitting rhymes or dirty lyrics. But when Dre pressed play, a sweet, soft melody filled the room—a pop beat that felt romantic and nostalgic.

I stepped up to the mic, took a deep breath, and started singing:

[Verse 1]

I found a love for me

Oh, darlin', just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waitin' for me

[Pre-Chorus]

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowin' what it was

I will not give you up this time

But, darlin', just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holdin' mine

[Chorus]

Baby, I'm dancin' in the dark with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass while listenin' to our favourite song

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it, "Darlin', you look perfect tonight"

[Verse 2]

Well, I found a woman stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that, someday, I'll share her home

I found a love to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

[Pre-Chorus]

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fightin' against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darlin', just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

[Chorus]

Baby, I'm dancin' in the dark with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass while listenin' to our favourite song

When I saw you in that dress, lookin' so beautiful

I don't deserve this, darlin', you look perfect tonight

[Bridge]

No, no, no

Mm, no, no

[Chorus]

Baby, I'm dancin' in the dark with you between my arms

We're barefoot on the grass, oh, listenin' to our favourite song

I have faith in what I see, now I know I have met

An angel in person and she looks perfect

I don't deserve this, you look perfect tonight

As I finished the first verse, I glanced through the glass at the others. Their jaws had dropped, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Yella was the first to break the silence. "Yo, is this even PAC? Who is this guy?!"

Cli-N-Tel threw his hands up. "Man, I thought we were getting another dirty banger. This—this is beautiful."

Dre was cracking up, leaning back in his chair. "I told you, didn't I? He's gone, man. Love done stole his soul."

"PAC, you singing about love now?" Yella teased. "What's next? You gonna write wedding vows?"

Everyone burst out laughing, but I didn't care. For the first time, I wasn't trying to impress anyone. I just wanted to express how I felt.

After that, I couldn't stop. Every day in the studio, I wrote another love song. Britney was my muse, and the words just flowed out of me. Dre started calling me "the romantic," which only fueled the jokes from the rest of the crew.

"You're gonna turn Wreckin' Cru into a boy band," Yella joked one day.

But I didn't mind. For the first time, I felt like I was truly creating something real—something that mattered. And it was all because of her.

One evening, after finishing up in the studio, I decided to do something special for Britney. I'd recorded my rendition of Perfect—a song that felt like it captured exactly how I felt about her—and I wanted her to have it.

When the track was finally done, I burned it onto a CD, placed it in a small case, and wrote a note on the cover: For the most perfect girl I know.

The next day, I surprised Britney after school. She was waiting by the gate, her usual radiant smile lighting up the place.

"Hey, babe," I said, pulling the CD out of my pocket. "Got something for you."

Her eyes lit up as she took it. "What's this?"

"Just... something I made for you," I said, scratching the back of my head.

She opened the case and saw the note. "PAC," she said softly, her voice filled with emotion. "You made me a song?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's not perfect—well, the song is literally called Perfect—but, you know, I just wanted you to hear how I feel."

She threw her arms around me, holding me tight. "I love it. I love you," she whispered.

Later that evening, she called me after listening to the song.

"PAC," she said, her voice shaky. "I've never had anyone do something so sweet for me. You're amazing."

Hearing her say that made every tease from the guys, every sleepless night in the studio, completely worth it.

School Fame

At lunch, we sat together, sharing fries and laughing like nobody else existed. Walking through the hallways hand in hand felt like we owned the place. The rest of the school noticed quickly, and soon, everyone knew we were a couple.

But not everyone was happy about it.

Some of the boys took it hard. They'd had their hearts set on Britney for years, and now, this broke kid from the neighborhood had swept her off her feet.

One afternoon, I overheard some guys near the lockers.

"Man, PAC really pulled Britney? How?"

"He doesn't even have a car! I heard he borrowed sneakers for their first date!"

"Yeah, but look at her. She looks happy. Real happy."

That shut them up real quick.

Rumors spread about guys crying in the school bathrooms. I even caught one of Britney's ex-crushes glaring at me during gym class. He fumbled his layups so badly, I had to wonder if I was living rent-free in his head.

But Britney didn't care. She was mine, and I was hers, and nothing else mattered.

---

Sister Drama

At home, though, there was one person who wasn't thrilled about my newfound love life: Sekyiwa.

She found out about Britney when I came home one day carrying bags of clothes and shoes Britney had bought for me. Sekyiwa immediately raised an eyebrow.

"PAC, where'd you get all this stuff? Did you rob someone?"

"No! It's a gift," I said, trying not to smile.

"A gift? From who?"

I dodged the question, but Sekyiwa wasn't dumb. She pieced it together by the end of the night.

When she realized her half-baked advice about "treating a girl like a queen" had somehow worked, her reaction was priceless.

"Wait," she said, staring at me like I'd just sprouted wings. "You mean to tell me that my advice—my advice—actually worked?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

Her mouth dropped open, then quickly turned into a triumphant grin. "I knew it! You owe your entire love life to me, PAC. Without me, you'd still be whining about being broke and girlfriend-less."

"I mean, it's not—"

She cut me off. "Don't even try to downplay it! I'm basically your Cupid."

For the next few days, she wouldn't stop gloating. "There goes my success story!" she'd say whenever I walked into the room.

But soon, she figured out how to use my relationship against me.

If I saved food in the fridge, she'd eat it.

"Hey! That was mine!" I'd yell.

"Oops," she'd say, grinning. "Guess you don't want Mom finding out about your little girlfriend, huh?"

If I had any pocket money left, she'd demand it.

"PAC, hand it over," she'd say, holding out her palm.

"Come on, Sekyiwa. You've already taken enough!"

"Fine," she'd reply, smirking. "I guess Britney doesn't need to know about that time you wet the bed when you were six."

"Okay, okay! Take it!"

One night, we argued over who got the last piece of chicken at dinner.

"Give it to me, PAC," she said, smirking.

"No way. I haven't eaten all day!"

She leaned in close and whispered, "Britney would love to hear about how you cried over a broken toy truck when you were seven."

I sighed. "Fine. Take the chicken."