Credentials of Fame (Tyga/Roc Royal Story) *Sequel*

Chapter 22: Shatter, Break, Fall.

Chresanto’s POV:

I brushed my teeth and took a look in the mirror. I looked different, in terms of the minor facial hair above my top lip and the tired look in my eyes. Besides that, though, I felt the same.

Isn’t that weird, though? Shouldn’t I be feeling different? I should be feeling prepared to go on an adventure with Janelle. Or I should be missing the other guys. I should be worried about what the fans think, what my Mom thinks, how Sapphire's doing...

I should be a lot of things. But I'm not.

I turned off the light in the bathroom just as Janelle called me from downstairs.

"Coming." I called back. I went downstairs to the kitchen, but she wasn't there.

"In here." She said. I turned around to see her in the living room, fully dressed with shoes and a hat.

"Where are you going?" I asked her. Janelle kept quiet and continued to tie her right shoe. "Where are you going?" I repeated.

"Out." She said sternly. I raised my eyebrows.

"Well, someone obviously has a problem." I said. She had my phone in her hand. I reached for it but she snatched it away.

"Chresanto, don't be sarcastic with me. I'm not in the mood for that, okay?" Janelle got up off the couch and brushed past me to go back upstairs to the guest room. I didn't even follow her. I waited for her to come back downstairs; I couldn't deal with her attitude.

When she came back, she had keys in her hand.

"That's the only pair of keys Lana gave us." I said to her. She didn't answer me. "Can you just tell me where you're going and when you'll be back?"

"Why?" She asked.

"Because you have the keys." I replied.

Janelle walked up to me, placing her face just inches away from mine. She had an angry look in her eyes, so I backed up.

"When you’re ready to tell me why you have your ex-girlfriends calling you non-stop, I’ll be ready to tell you my business.”

Then she slammed my phone down on the table and stormed out the door, leaving me confused and concerned. I looked at my phone; I had 5 missed calls from Sapphire. So that’s why she was mad? Because my ex was calling me? I bet Janelle barely even considered that I ran away from my entire life for her. I’m freakin' Roc Royal; people are worried about me. So if my ex-girlfriend, someone that I’ve been close to for years, wants to call me, I think that should be completely fine.

But that’s ok. I got her.

Princeton’s POV:

“You’re not helping at all.”

I looked up when Ray said that to me, and then returned my head to its sorrow, sagging position. He and Prod were putting together clues and trying to figure out where in the hell Roc could be, and also trying to come up with a more believable excuse as to why the concert was cancelled.

“I’m sorry; my mind’s just full right now.” I apologized.

“No, don’t be sorry. You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Roc should be the one apologizing. He totally destroyed the way things were set up.” Prod replied.

“Selfish, man.” Ray added.

“I don’t have to be doing this work right now; trying to find him, trying to cover up his disappearance with lies. He should’ve taken care of that before he ran off.” Prod continued.

“He shouldn’t have run off at all!” Ray said.

“Hey. Stop, ok? Just because Roc isn’t here doesn’t mean you’re allowed to talk about him like that. He wouldn’t do that to us.” I said to them. I was getting annoyed with them, especially since they’d been complaining for the past 20 minutes.

“Prince don’t act like you weren’t just mad a while ago because Roc wasn’t here. Let us have our time to be mad too.” Prodigy said to me.

“Just because I was mad doesn’t mean I was mad at Roc.” I replied.

“What else is there to be mad about?” Ray asked.

“Other stuff.” I said.

“Other stuff doesn’t matter right now.” He said.

“Who are you to determine that?” I asked him.

“He’s someone that’s being smarter than you right now.” Prod said.

“You know what? F*ck y’all.” I tightened my bandana, stood up off my stool, and walked toward the door. The same door Roc walked out of a few minutes ago. The door that seemed to be one of no return. So if I walked through, would I return?

Of course. That was a crazy question—why wouldn’t I return? I had to. I was obligated to.

“Says the one who's supposed to ‘spread the peace’. You’re a hypocrite, man.” I heard Prodigy say behind my back.

He had no idea what he just did.

Forget him.

Forget them.

Forget the concert.

Forget the tour.

Forget Mindless Behavior.

My name is Jacob Perez, no longer Princeton. Still a misfit, still an outsider, but just not ready to fit your expectations. I’m done with that immature group. Prod and Ray, the know-it-alls, can manage it themselves.

Until I find Bianca, I don’t want to hear from them ever again.

Janelle’s POV:

By the time I left Chres and walked a few blocks, I had cooled down. I’m still mad, but I’m not thinking about it anymore. I’m focusing on finding my stepsi—I mean, friend. Not that I have any good strategies set out.

As I stood outside my parents’ neighbors’ house, I realized I should have brought Chresanto with me. He’s smarter than me when it comes to these things. He would’ve thought of something better than me spying my parents’ house to see if Bianca came back there.

Well at least I have something to start with. At least I’m not just crying my eyes out and leaving everything to the police like my mother must be doing.

I just hope I find something valuable to my search while I’m here.

Overdosing on those eyes, those cute little eyes of yours.

Going in with that smile, that bright smile of yours.

Sniffing up that voice, that deep voice of yours.

You, you’re my drug.

You’re an illegal drug.

So just leak the drug, just leak that drug, baby just leak my drug…

I kept singing the hook of a song I wrote about Chresanto a long time ago until I saw somebody walking toward my parents’ house. About my height, black hoody, head down. Who could that be?

He walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. My mother would probably stop what she was doing to get the door quickly, since no one really rings our doorbell. Only special guests don’t knock, so she’d rush to let them in. Or if she was too busy crying because I disappeared, she would send Daddy to get it. He would drag his feet because he’s annoyed that Mama made him do something he didn’t want to do.

Then the door opened.

I crawled a little closer to hear what was being said.

“Bianca? Naw, we haven’t seen her.”  Daddy, who was the one that answered the door, said.

I couldn’t hear what the guy said in reply. “Sure. You can stay in Janelle’s room for now; it’s clear of her stuff.” Daddy replied.

Then he walked in, and the door closed.

Princeton.