Unbreakable: My Story, My Way

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Authors: Jenni Rivera
Chacalosa” had earned me a special underground following with a certain group in LA. The lyrics told the story of a drug-trafficking female who was “making it big in the business.” At the time the Los Angeles area had many popular drug dealers. My corrido appealed to them, and many of these mafiosos knew who I was and respected me. They would see Marisela and me around the clubs and make sure we were taken care of. That night one dealer insisted that I sing “La Chacalosa” for him. He had the power to stop the DJ and order the live norteño group to play whatever he wanted to hear. He came to our table and said, “Go up there and sing my corrido , girl. I’ll pay you whatever you want.” Of course, I wasn’t going to charge the man a dime.
    “Go for it,” Marisela told me with an approving look.
    I went onstage with El Vampiro y Sus Fantasmas and they began to play “La Chacalosa.” Halfway through the song, a tall dark handsome man came onstage with a friend and asked the photographer of the club to take a Polaroid picture of all three of us while I was performing. Because I was used to the attention from fans, I didn’t make much of it.
    Marisela and I left the club with the rest of the VIP clients at two thirty in the morning. We walked out to the parking lot, where only a few cars were left. As we walked toward my Toyota Camry, we noticed two men walking in our direction. When they got closer, I realized one of them was the handsome guy who had taken a picture with me and one of his friends.
    “Hi, Jenni.” The man introduced himself as Juan.
    We talked for a bit, and then they asked us to a late dinner at LasPlayas, a twenty-four-hour restaurant in Bell. Marisela was cautious and immediately responded that we couldn’t.
    “Vamonos, güera ,” she whispered to me. “We don’t know them. It’s getting late anyway.”
    “Thanks, but we can’t,” I told Juan. “It was nice meeting you.”
    He wouldn’t take his eyes off me. “Then give me your autograph and your phone number.”
    I gave him both.

Grant Me the Serenity
Why should I keep loving you,
When I know that you’re not true?
—from “Wasted Days and Wasted Nights”
    Juan and I began to date no more than a week after we first met. I was crazy about him from the start. He was so handsome, sweet, and attentive. By August, just five months later, we moved in together. Or rather, he moved into my house in Compton. Looking back, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. It could have, and should have, happened differently. I could have asked him to leave when he spent more than three nights at my house, but I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t hear the roaring of the motor as my new roller-coaster ride headed toward destruction. I was in love. And love makes you stupid.
    The relationship between Juan and me was not as difficult and dramatic as my relationship with Trino. It was, however, equally addictive. That we didn’t have as many arguments and disagreements made it easier to have fun, and from the beginning we spent a lot of time together. Our regular outings were to the movies (I hadn’t beento a movie since I got pregnant with my first daughter) and to various nightclubs. We both loved to dance and enjoyed going to El Mercadito in Los Angeles to listen to the live mariachi bands and take part in Corona-beer-drinking contests. We had something else in common, something important: a love for baseball. Unlike Trino, Juan played sports and was a catcher on his baseball team. The kids and I were regulars at his weekend games. Because we shared so many equal interests, and because I didn’t act like a normal girl, he said it was easy for him to fall in love with me. “You don’t bore me,” he’d say. “It’s like kicking it with another one of the guys.” I felt just the same about him.
    I think it’s normal (or at least I hope it is) to be more naive and vulnerable when you are younger. It’s easy to fall in love with

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