Following a reported shooting in Nashville, Tennessee, Justin Bieber expresses his sadness over the passing of Chris King, a friend in the music industry.
With the help of fellow musician Trippie Redd, the rapper rose to fame.
Chris and Justin were seen hugging in a video that Justin posted on his Instagram Stories.
“I love you, bro,” he penned beside the picture.
This one aches. Justin urged his followers to pray for his family.
As this came to a close, Justin remarked, “See you in paradise, brother.”
Trippie Redd posted a few of photos of Chris and Justin on Instagram.
“I’m so hurt right now I can’t even think,” the rapper sobbed.
“I love you, buddy. Please return.” Trippie Red says she included numerous emojis depicting shattered hearts.
STARRIVER COMPANIES
Chris posted a late-night Instagram story on Friday night that included a pal named Courtland Young. Afterwards, he uploaded something to his own story.
“I just can’t reply to every direct message you send me.He remarked, “I had his back, I understood him, and I was his friend.
The artist claimed that “people in his life can tell you to shut up about things you don’t know.”
Courtland stated, “I’ve been on the phone with his family and close friend, but I can’t speak on this [right now].”
“I just saw a close friend commit suicide, and now I’m being asked questions? “Get the f**k out!” he cried out.
He said to those who followed him, “Please let his family grieve while things get worked out.”
DJ Scheme, the 26-year-old Industry rapper for Chris, sent the message “RIP” on the former Twitter platform, X.
“This is ridiculous, what the heck?” He inquired.
“Rest in peace, Chris King,” remarked DJ Scheme.
Many followers expressed their horror after hearing the awful news.
A person on X exclaimed, “What?!?”
“Damn, bro, is it real?” questioned a second.
The same individual said, “This s**t is unbelievable.”
“No way,” three individuals exclaimed. Godspeed, dude.
My daughter didn’t talk to me for a week. I decided to give her a harsh reality check
It all started when my daughter, Jessica, came home from school one day with a gloomy look on her face. As a single mother, I’ve always tried to provide the best for her despite our financial limitations. This time, it wasn’t a new pair of shoes or a trendy outfit she was asking for – it was a $50 Stanley Cup, a branded water mug. Apparently, the girls at her school were obsessed with them, and not having one made her a target for bullying.
I was taken aback. Was it really that big of a deal? Could a simple water cup hold such power over her social life? “Mom, everyone has one,” she pleaded. “They make fun of me because I don’t. I just want to fit in.” My heart ached for her, but the price tag was steep for a water cup, and I couldn’t justify it. I provided her with everything she needed, but a $50 cup seemed excessive and unnecessary.
“No, Jess, we can’t afford that right now,” I said firmly. She stormed off to her room, slamming the door behind her. Days turned into a week, and her cold shoulder only grew colder. The silence was deafening, and the tension in the house was palpable.
The Standoff
Jessica’s attitude didn’t change. She talked to me but always with an undercurrent of anger and entitlement. She was stubborn, and her determination to make me cave was impressive, albeit frustrating. I provided for her needs – food, a clean house, clothes, a roof over her head, and a bed to sleep in. But her silent treatment continued, and I realized I needed to take a stand and teach her a lesson about gratitude and priorities.
So, I made a decision. The next day, Jessica came home from school with her usual cold greeting and went straight to her room. Moments later, I heard a heart-wrenching scream, “NO, NO… MOOOOOOM, MOOOOM PLEASE!”
The Harsh Lesson
I walked into her room to find her looking at an empty space where her bed used to be. “Mom, what did you do? Where is my bed?” she cried out, tears streaming down her face.
I hugged her tightly, tears welling up in my eyes. “Jessica, I love you, and I only want what’s best for you. It’s important to appreciate what you have and not let material things dictate your happiness.”
We moved her bed back into her room together, and the rift between us began to heal. The lesson was learned, and our bond grew stronger as a result. Jessica still faced challenges at school, but she no longer let the pressure of fitting in with material possessions affect her self-worth.
The Resolution
In the end, the experience brought us closer. Jessica learned the value of gratitude and resilience, and I learned the importance of standing firm in my decisions as a parent. The $50 Stanley Cup might have been a symbol of acceptance at school, but the real lesson lay in understanding that true worth isn’t measured by branded possessions.
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