Page 23

ROYAL

I ’d been gone for a minute. Not just from the industry, the studio, or the public eye—but from myself. Grief don’t knock. It kicks the fuckin’' door in and drags you out by the throat.

I was spiraling hard. Drowning myself in liquor, fists, and flesh.

Picking fights in the middle of nowhere bars.

Sleeping with women I couldn’t name if you held a gun to my head.

Anything to numb it. Anything to distract me from that voice in my head tellin’ me I should’ve been there.

That if I’d stayed ten or fifteen more minutes. .. King would still be here.

I couldn’t step foot in my apartment. The last time I had been inside of it, it smelled like her, like us.

Like dreams I didn’t realize I had until I lost 'em. So, I bounced between hotels and my mama’s house.

Told myself it was for her—so she wouldn’t be alone now that Princess was at Spelman for her summer bridge program.

But I knew better. I needed to be where love still lived. Even if it looked like a ghost now.

I was sitting in the driver’s seat of my G-Wagon having just made it to Queenie’s crib, head pounding from the Henny I downed that morning, when my phone rang with another call from the Fulton County Correctional Facility.

For days, I’d let the calls go unanswered. Couldn’t bring myself to pick up. Couldn’t stomach the guilt, the disappointment, the rage I knew was waiting on the other end.

But something in me pressed accept anyway. "Yeah."

There was a brief pause. Then that voice—low, aged, filled with weight. “Royal.”

“What.”

“You alright, son?” That word used to mean something. Son. Now it just felt like a reminder of everything he wasn’t around for.

“I’m good.”

“You don’t sound good.” I sighed into the phone, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“I wanted to talk about King,” he said quietly.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about him nonstop. His laugh.

The way he used to sneak out at night and think we ain’t notice…

” I didn’t respond. Didn’t want to talk about memories.

Not with him. “You remember that time he stole your mama’s car and tried to drive to Miami?

” I didn’t even crack a smile. My pops exhaled. “You ain’t got nothin’ to say?”

“I ain’t in the mood to reminisce,” I bit out. “I’m tryna survive the day, Pops. I don’t got it in me to take strolls down memory lane.”

There was a sharp pause.

“I been sittin’ in this cell, losin’ sleep every damn night while my son gets put in the ground—and you ain’t got the time to talk to me?”

“That ain’t what I said?—”

“You act like I ain’t sufferin’ too! My boy died and I ain’t even been able to grieve him with my family! Y’all act like I don’t exist.”

“You ain’t been there, Pops!” I snapped. “Why the fuck you expect hugs and sympathy when you’ve been a ghost our whole lives?!”

“I BEEN CALLIN’—”

“And we BEEN dealin’ with your absence!” I barked back. “Don’t act like you surprised.”

A heavy and dangerous silence fell between us. Then his voice came in like poison. “So where were you when your brother took his last breath, huh?”

My stomach twisted. “Don’t do that.”

“Where were you, Royal?”

“I was?—”

“Don’t lie.”

“I left with my girl.”

There was a pause… then a scoff. “You left your brother for some random bitch.”

My vision blurred in red. “Watch yo fuckin’’ mouth.”

“She ain’t family. He was.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about her or what she is to me.”

“I know she ain’t worth leavin’ your blood for.”

“Oh, but you know somethin’ about loyalty now?” I laughed bitterly. “You, the same man who left us to fend for ourselves. The same man who been locked in a cage for the last two decades? Naw, Pops, don’t sit up there hollerin’ ‘bout what I should’ve done when you ain’t done shit yourself.”

“I did what I had to?—”

“Nah! You did what you wanted. And you left us to clean up the pieces. I’m the one who got us out the fuckin’’ hood.

I’m the one who made sure Princess never had to worry about nothin’.

I’m the one makin’ moves for this family, and you?

You sittin’ on your ass in prison, throwin’ stones while living in a big ass glass house. ”

“You don’t know?—"

I wasn’t finished.

“You really mad ‘cause Mama left you right? Please. What’d you expect when she found out you had other bitches comin’ to visit you?

Or when she found out you got another son out here the same age as Princess?

!” I heard him suck in a breath. “Yeah, I know all about it. So don’t come at me like you holier than thou.

You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, couldn’t stay outta trouble, and you damn sure couldn’t keep your family together.

So don’t come at me talkin’ ‘bout what I lost. You the reason we all broken.”

His voice was quiet now. Smaller.

“You don’t know what the fuck?—”

“Don’t sling mud if yo shit ain’t clean,” I snapped. “And don’t call my fuckin’ phone talkin’ crazy when you ain't got the right to say shit.”

Then I hung up and threw my phone across the dashboard, chest heaving. And for the first time in days, I realized I wasn’t just mad at him. I was mad at the world. I was mad at myself, and I was mad at God. Because no matter how much I yelled… King wasn’t coming back.

I hadn’t even made it out of the car before my phone rang again. I exhaled, trying to figure out what the fuck else. I grabbed my phone from where I threw it on the seat and saw Logan’s name flashing.

I knew that name was coming eventually. Hell, I’d been dodging his calls too. But he was persistent, and after the day I’d had—with my pops coming for my throat from his prison cot—I was already running on fumes.

I answered, teeth clenched. “What.”

“Royal.” That was it. My whole damn name.

Not yo, not aye yo, not even bro. He was serious.

“I been tryin’ to get at you for two weeks.

What the hell is goin’ on, man?” I didn’t answer.

“You in the blogs for fightin’ a nigga at Lennox Mall, you got kicked out the back of Magic City two nights ago, and then I hear you got banned from two studio spaces for trashin’ the equipment?

” He didn’t pause. “And now, Tea And Honey postin’ you drunk in a club booth with a chick in your lap like you ain't got an album droppin’ in a minute. What the fuck is you doin’, Royal?”

I let out a dry laugh, hand running over my beard. “What you think I’m doin’, Logan? Grieving. Minding my fuckin’ business. Drownin’ in henny and pussy. Pick one.”

“You think this shit funny?”

“I think I don’t feel like hearin’ yo fuckin’ mouth right now.”

“Well too fuckin’’ bad,” he snapped, and I swore I heard the NI syllable before he stopped himself.

“Because this is my business, Royal. Everything you do—every headline, every dumbass decision—has consequences. You got a team. You got an album. You got money on the line. And right now? You fuckin’’ it all up. ”

“I lost my brother, man.” My voice cracked just a little. “What the fuck you want me to do? Smile for the camera and act like shit ain’t fallin’ apart?”

“I want you to act like a man who worked his whole life for this and ain’t about to throw it away behind a bottle and a bunch of bad decisions,” Logan barked. “You think King would want you out here wildin’ like this?” That was a low blow. I didn’t respond. “And let’s talk about Averi.”

That got my attention real quick. “What about her?” I gritted.

“I heard what happened,” he said, tone suddenly softer. “You pushed her away. You think you’re the only one who lost somebody?”

“She ain’t dead,” I growled.

“No,” he replied calmly. “But you sure act like she is dead to you from what I’m hearing.”

I gripped the phone tighter, knuckles white. “Don’t start with that shit. I don’t need her name in my ear again today.”

“You think I’m throwin’ her in your face?”

“Ain’t that what everybody doin’? My pops, you… y’all love remindin’ me what I fucked up like I don’t already know,” I snapped. “Like I don’t hear her voice when I try to sleep. Like I don’t see her every time I close my eyes.”

There was a pause. “Then why you treat her like that?”

I exhaled hard through my nose. “Because she tied to the worst night of my life. That’s why.” He didn’t say anything. “You don’t get it, Logan. I look at her and all I see is what I wasn’t there for. If I wasn’t laid up with her?—”

“You’d still be human. Still be hurtin’,” he cut in. “But at least you wouldn’t be pushing away the people who give a fuck about you.”

I didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. “Aye what you need from me bruh, I got shit to do.”

“I know this ain't the best time, Royal,” Logan added, gentler now. “But you gotta find a new manager. You got obligations. Promo, rollout, radio appearances. Concrete Roses is your best work yet, and it deserves better than what you givin’ it.” I didn’t reply just listened.

“I know you hurtin’. But you gotta climb out of this, man. Do it for King.”

That was the last straw. I hung up; didn’t say goodbye, didn’t need to. Instead, I tossed my phone across the passenger seat, then yanked it back seconds later, unlocking it with a swipe of my thumb.

I shouldn’t have, knew I shouldn’t but I was already a tortured soul, might as well finish off the job. So, I went to the Photos app anyway. And there she was, Averi St. Claire, smilin’ up at me in my camera roll like nothin’ ever happened.