Pt 2:Close to the Fire, Covered by Grace

The pimp. The almost-head-stomp. And the moment I learned survival has nothing to do with smarts — and everything to do with grace.

⛓️ Prelude: The Price of the Soft Life

Before I share this, let me be clear:
This isn’t a story about Diddy.
It’s about the system he represents — the glorified pimping of women’s bodies, minds, and ambitions in exchange for “love,” power, and lifestyle.
Cassie lived it on a platinum stage.
I lived it in Hollywood high-rises and backseat club rides.
Same script. Smaller budget.

And in a club off Sunset Blvd on a crowded dance floor just before last call, I met Cas:

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🌃 The Night I Met Cas

It was college.
My girls had flaked on going out.
I had two options: stay home or go solo.
I chose solo.
I’d learned by then — I didn’t want to be the girl dragging drunk friends out of clubs, wiping vomit off heels, or babysitting bad decisions.
I was a lone wolf by default and by design.

So I pulled up to a packed hip-hop club in Hollywood.
Room full of beautiful Black men and a melting pot of sexy strangers.
I danced.
Sipped my cranberry + soda (because being solo didn’t mean being stupid).
And that’s when I bumped into him — just before last call, I met Cas:
6’7”, bald, magnetic. Pitbull in human form.
Mixed-race with sky-blue eyes and a stillness that made people hush when he moved.

We danced.
We vibed.
We exchanged numbers.
He wasn’t a pimp.
Back then, he was just… captivating.

The next week we met up at his Playa Del Rey condo.
Ocean view. 9th floor. Luxurious but not flashy.
And when he pressed up against me,
my body said: “Yes.”

But after one date night where he asked me to ride along with him to drop off some snow to one of his girls and a few frat boys, I realized he was into some stuff I didn’t want any part of.

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🛫 In Between: Me, Bonds & the Life That Spaced It All Out

Before Cas came back into the picture in that way —
There was Bonds.
And travel.

A bench of men waiting to get called up to bat
All while trying to figure myself out.

There was a period where if Bonds hit me up he had priority and would take up most of my free time.
He kept me close… but never passed around.
We’d party. Meet up wherever he was guarding Diddy at and on his down time we chilled.
He’d say: “Don’t come out that room.” whenever he stepped away.
And I’d listen.
Because deep down, I knew something dark was lingering beyond the hallway of Diddy’s home.

So I stayed spinning in that liminal space —
Not quite thriving.
Not quite breaking.
Floating between luxury and longing.

Until I got tired.
✨ Tired of fast money
✨ Tired of instability
✨ Tired of chasing something I couldn’t define
Just a scattered dream and a need for something — or someone — solid.

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💰 The “Choose Up” & the Calm Before the Fire

Fast forward some months, I saw Cas again — briefly, leaving a club with my girlfriends this time.
I ran over to his car and grabbed his new digits.
A big believer in divine timing, I thought maybe I should explore things more with Cas.