“You never can believe the media, especially tabloids,” Chris Brown
said firmly at Maze, a restaurant in New York City’s chic hotel The
London in June 2007. Two bodyguards, a publicist, and an assistant
hovered at a nearby table. Later that afternoon, Chris begged
management to leave so he could roll around like a regular guy. He was
going to play basketball, plotting to pick up girls. Phone calls were
made to his mother, Joyce Hawkins, and to his manager, Tina Davis, who
insisted that the chaperones stay. Chris had turned 18 the month
before, and he was excited that Michael Jackson had just called
personally to wish him Happy Birthday and to tell him what a rare
blessing it was to be able to sing and dance the way Brown does.
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VIBE's May 2009 cover