by King, Deja
Rich
or
Famous
Rich Because You Can Buy Fame
A Novel
Joy DeJa King
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, establishments, or locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Other names, characters, and incidents occurring in the work are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, as those fictionalized events and incidents that involve real persons. Any character that happens to share the name of a person who is an acquaintance of the author, past or present, is purely coincidental and is in no way intended to be an actual account involving that person.
ISBN 13: 978-0984332595 ISBN 10: 0984332596 Cover concept by Joy Deja King & www.MarionDesigns.com Cover layout and graphic design by www.MarionDesigns.com Cover Model: Joy Deja King Typesetting: Keith Saunders Editors: Suzy McGlown, Linda Williams
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data; King, Deja Joy Rich or Famous…Rich Because You Can Buy Fame: a novel/by Joy Deja King For complete Library of Congress Copyright info visit; www.joydejaking.com
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Copyright © 2011 by Joy Deja King. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission from the publisher, except by reviewer who may quote brief passage to be printed in a newspaper or magazine.
This Book is Dedicated To My:
Family, Readers and Supporters. I LOVE you guys so much. Please believe that!!
Rich
or
Famous
Rich Because You Can Buy Fame
Lorenzo
Welcome To My World
Before I die, if you don’t remember anything else I ever taught you, know this. A man will be judged, not on what he has but how much of it. So you find a way to make money and when you think you’ve made enough, make some more, because you’ll need it to survive in this cruel world. Money will be the only thing to save you. As I sat across from Darnell those words my father said to me on his deathbed played in my head.
“Yo, Lorenzo, are you listening to me, did you hear anything I said?”
“I heard everything you said. The problem for you is I don’t give a fuck.” I responded, giving a casual shoulder shrug as I rested my thumb under my chin with my index finger above my mouth.
“What you mean, you don’t give a fuck? We been doing business for over three years now and that’s the best you got for me?”
“Here’s the thing, Darnell, I got informants all over these streets. As a matter of fact that broad you’ve had in your back pocket for the last few weeks is one of them.”
“I don’t understand what you saying,” Darnell said swallowing hard. He tried to keep the tone of his voice calm, but his body composure was speaking something different.
“Alexus, has earned every dollar I’ve paid her to fuck wit’ yo’ blood suckin’ ass. You a fake fuck wit’ no fangs. You wanna play wit’ my 100 g’s like you at the casino. That’s a real dummy move, Darnell.” I could see the sweat beads gathering, resting in the creases of Darnell’s forehead.
“Lorenzo, man, I don’t know what that bitch told you but none of it is true! I swear ‘bout four niggas ran up in my crib last night and took all my shit. Now that I think about it, that trifling ho Alexus probably had me set up! She fucked us both over!”
I shook my head for a few seconds not believing this muthafucker was saying that shit with a straight face. “I thought you said it was two niggas that ran up in your crib now that shit done doubled. Next thing you gon’ spit is that all of Marcy projects was in on the stickup.”
“Man, I can get your money. I can have it to you first thing tomorrow. I swear!”
“The thing is I need my money right now.” I casually stood up from my seat and walked towards Darnell who now looked like he had been dipped in water. Watching him fall apart in front of my eyes made up for the fact that I would never get back a dime of the money he owed me.
“Zo, you so paid, this shit ain’t gon’ even faze you. All I’m asking for is less than twenty-four hours. You can at least give me that,” Darnell pleaded.
“See, that’s your first mistake, counting my pockets. My money is my money, so yes this shit do faze me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t tryna disrespect you. By this time tomorrow you will have your money and we can put this shit behind us.” Darnell’s eyes darted around in every direction instead of looking directly at me. A good liar, he was not.
“Since you were robbed of the money you owe me and the rest of my drugs, how you gon’ get me my dough? I mean the way you tell it, they didn’t leave you wit’ nothin’ but yo’ dirty draws.”
“I’ll work it out. Don’t even stress yourself, I got you, man.”
“What you saying is that the nigga you so called aligned yourself with, by using my money and my product, is going to hand it back over to you?”
“Zo, what you talking ‘bout? I ain’t aligned myself wit’ nobody. That slaw ass bitch Alexus feeding you lies.”
“No, that’s you feeding me lies. Why don’t you admit you no longer wanted to work for me? You felt you was big shit and could be your own boss. So you used my money and product to buy your way in with this other nigga to step in my territory. But you ain’t no boss you a poser. And your need to perpetrate a fraud is going to cost you your life.”
“Lorenzo, don’t do this man! This is all a big misunderstanding. I swear on my daughter I will have your money tomorrow. Fuck, if you let me leave right now I’ll have that shit to you tonight!” I listened to Darnell stutter his words.
My men, who had been patiently waiting in each corner of the warehouse, dressed in all black, loaded with nothing but artillery, stepped out of the darkness ready to obliterate the enemy I had once considered my best worker. Darnell’s eyes widened as he witnessed the men who had saved and protected him on numerous occasions, as he dealt with the vultures he encountered in the street life, now ready to end his.
“Don’t do this, Zo! Pleeease,” Darnell was now on his knees begging.
“Damn, nigga, you already a thief and a backstabber. Don’t add, going out crying like a bitch to that too. Man the fuck up. At least take this bullet like a soldier.”
“I’m sorry, Zo. Please don’t do this. I gotta daughter that need me. Pleeease man, I’ll do anything. Just don’t kill me.” The tears were pouring down Darnell’s face and instead of softening me up it just made me even more pissed at his punk ass.
“Save your fuckin’ tears. You shoulda thought about your daughter before you stole from me. You’re the worse sort of thief. I invite you into my home, I make you a part of my family and you steal from me, you plot against me. Your daughter doesn’t need you. You have nothing to teach her.”
My men each pulled out their gat ready to attack and I put my hand up motioning them to stop. For the first time since Darnell arrived, a calm gaze spread across his face.
“I knew you didn’t have the heart to let them kill me, Zo. We’ve been through so much together. I mean you Tania’s God Father. We bigger than this and we will get through it,” Darnell said, halfway smiling as he began getting off his knees and standing up.
“You’re right, I don’t have the heart to let them kill you, I’ma do that shit myself.” Darnell didn’t even have a chance to let what I said resonate with him because I just sprayed that muthafucker like the piece of shit he was. “Clea
n this shit up,” I said, stepping over Darnell’s bullet ridden body as I made my exit.
Dior
American Dream
I watched through the window as the helicopter descended upon the center of the 25 story marble-clad hotel roof’s landing pad. The bright lights lit up the city that never sleeps. I remained in the helicopter until all blades had stopped spinning and the ground handler opened my door.
A brisk New York City chill greeted me as I stepped out the helicopter. I quickly wrapped my full length chinchilla around my body, yearning for instant warmth. “Follow me, Mr. Stone is waiting for you,” the handler said taking my hand. I walked swiftly but with caution not wanting my five inch pencil thin heel to get caught in a crack and scratched in the slightest.
We took the private elevator down and the doors opened up to at least a 6,000-square foot room laced out in walls of partitioned glass, marble floors and a grand piano that had a 22-gold carat chandelier above it. I knew that because earlier, when Sway called me in one of his coke induced highs, he kept going on and on about how hard his dick was watching some naked girl dance on top of the piano. But he wanted to make it clear, that his dick wasn’t hard because of the naked girl, it was because he imagined the 22-gold carat chandelier crashing down on top of her and her body breaking up into small pieces of crystal, then spreading down the piano and turning into quicksand—then everyone in the room is drowning in the quicksand, except for him of course because he always survives everything. That was the illogical yet creative way his mind worked. But the craziness of Sway Stone is what many said was the root of his success. Nobody could deny Sway was a superstar and one of the biggest hip hop icons of his time.
“My muse is finally here,” Sway declared before sticking his tongue down my throat. I tolerated his wet and sloppy kiss and even pretended to enjoy it. “Take off your coat,” he demanded. “I want to see how you look in the dress I picked out for you.”
I let the chinchilla fall to the floor revealing the cutout metallic feather and vintage cocktail mini paired with sparkling silver heels. Sway twirled me around as if I was his own personal dress up Barbie with an approving grin. “I knew this dress would be blazin’ on you. This shit is perfect! And later when we fuck I want you to keep it on. Don’t take anything off,” he stressed. I stood staring into Sway’s deep brown eyes wondering if he was always so self absorbed or did the fame do it to him.
“Dior, did you hear what the fuck I said?” he barked, switching gears in a matter of seconds. His calm even tenor had now turned rough and thunderous. This was typical behavior when Sway didn’t feel you were giving him your full attention. He expected responses to come as quick as they popped in his head. I learned that early in our relationship but I had a slight slip which I knew how to recover from.
“Yes, baby, I heard you,” I said caressing the side of his face. “I promise I won’t take anything off.”
“Well don’t take so long to speak up next time,” he said as he cupped the bottom of my ass and pulled me closer, once again doing the deep throat with his tongue. All was forgotten for now until of course I slipped up again which was inevitable.
Sway gripped my hand and led me to the long suede couch that had an orgasmic view of the city and Hudson River. “What’s up Dior,” Lori, one of his many fake hangers-on’s smiled and said.
I knew for a fact she had been sucking his dick for the last year and couldn’t stand me because I was Sway’s current main chick and was outlasting all his previous tricks. I couldn’t stand her either but for a different reason. See, instead of just going about her business after her two week fuck fest ended with Sway, she decided to become a constant fixture in his inner circle by being the on-call whore for him and all his boys.
That shit annoyed the hell out of me. I believe in every chick doing what the fuck they have to do to stay relevant in the game because trust, I have gotten down and will get down for mine but her behavior was the definition of a basic bitch. But the longer I ran around in the ‘industry cliques’ it became clear that basic bitches were the majority. Every rapper, singer, athlete and pseudo celebrities kept a gang of basic bitches around them. Now I had done a lot of shit to get to where I was at this very moment but I was never nobody’s basic bitch.
“Lori, why do you always speak to me when you know I can’t stand you?” The handful of people that were standing around the couch including Lori all looked at me with a blank stare. I asked the question in such a non-threatening tone they didn’t know how to take it.
“My baby has such a sick sense of humor. I love it!” Sway grinned as he kissed my neck. His reaction thawed out the cold chill and everybody laughed as if I had been joking by what I said. Of course it was true and deep down Lori knew it. But what could she do because for now I was the head bitch in charge.
“Lori, I left my fur on the floor. Go pick it up for me please. Thanks.” I turned to Sway and glided my hand up and down his inner thigh.
“You’re making my dick so hard,” Sway grabbed the nape of my neck, pulling me close and continued whispering in my ear, “I wanna fuck you, right here on this couch in front of everybody.”
“Go ‘head, there’s nothing stopping you.” Sway slid his hand inside the top of my dress and let his fingers slither across my nipple. He played with it for a few minutes as he went from kissing me to staring in my eyes.
“You’re crazier than me.”
“You just now figured that out.”
“You would really let me fuck you right here?”
“I’m down for whatever. I’m sure everybody in this room has fucked before so we wouldn’t be showing them nothing they ain’t already seen.”
“Yo, Sway, come here.”
“Can’t you see I’m fuckin’ busy.”
“Gee on the phone. He need to speak with you ‘bout the show tomorrow.”
“What about it?”
“There’s been a few changes and he need to discuss it wit’ you.” Sway let out a deep sigh, obviously irritated that his sex fantasy was being interrupted. But Gee was his manager and as fucked up as Sway was, when it came to business he always handled his.
“Dior, stay right here. I’ll be right back.”
“No problem, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” As I watched Sway walk away I noticed that my fur was still on the floor. I turned around and Lori was looking at me frowned up. “Is there a reason you haven’t picked up my fur?”
“Yeah, because I don’t work for you,” Lori spit running her fingers through her cropped red hair.
“You work for Sway so you work for me.”
“I don’t work for Sway.”
“Oh, so you do all that fucking and sucking for fun it’s not a job?”
“I’m just doing what you do, Dior.”
“Oh babygirl, that’s where you got it wrong. I do work for Sway but unlike you I’m compensated for my services. That’s why I’m wearing a chinchilla and you’re going to be picking it up.”
“I ain’t picking up shit!”
“Yes you are because if you don’t I’ll tell Sway how disrespectful you are and to toss your whorish ass out of here. And trust me, he will do it because right now I’m holding his balls you’re just licking them when I’m unavailable.”
“You’re a complete bitch!”
“So true, but that’s beside the point.”
“You might be on top now but you will fall. I just hope I’m around to witness it.”
“You either shut the fuck up and get my fur or your days of parading around industry parties on Sway’s tip are over.”
“Baby, I’m back and I brought you a present,” Sway said, before handing me a small vile of coke. I looked up at him and didn’t say anything. “Is everything okay?” he asked moving a loose curl from over my eye.
“I’m just waiting for Lori to do something I asked.”
“What’s the hold up?” Sway questioned Lori shrugging his shoulders.
“No hold up. I’m
taking care of it right now.”
I simply smiled and took the vile of coke from Sway. I opened it and put it down on the black marble table. I reached for a card from a deck of playing cards and made two neat little lines. I took the rolled up hundred Sway had in his hand and then held one nostril closed with my finger. I made sure to keep my mouth closed to keep from blowing on the other line. I put the hundred into my open nostril and sucked in while chasing the line. When I was done I inhaled sharply for a few times. I immediately repeated it all over again for the second line using my other nostril.
As I sat back, relaxed and let the drug take hold, two things crossed my mind. First, I thought about how in around twenty minutes backdrip would start flowing from my nasal cavity down my throat. It was a mixture of snot and coke and the taste was revolting. That’s why if possible I would make sure to have a strongly flavored drink handy so the taste wouldn’t be so disgusting.
After thinking about that for a few minutes my mind switched to how the life I was living was so different from what most considered being the norm. I always heard people talking about reaching the American Dream: Married, 2.5 kids, dog, nice house with a white picket fence and a great family vacation once a year. I still didn’t understand what the hell 2.5 kids meant and honestly I could care less. It was like when I would go to sleep at night, the only dream I ever had was to be famous. I imagined being draped in designer clothes, just like the ones I was wearing tonight, walking red carpets, being in the spotlight and every girl in the world wishing they could walk in my shoes. Yes, that was my American dream and even in my coke induced high I knew I would do anything to make that dream a reality.
Lorenzo
