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

Author’s Note: Hey everyone. This is a SEQUEL to the story Living in the Careless World. I really want you guys to read this story, but I advise that before you read this, you should read Living in the Careless World. But if you don’t mind missing out on a few facts that you should really know, then go ahead and just read this! 

Everyone says “be yourself.” They all say, “don’t change who you are for other people.” You know what I call those people? I call them inconsiderate and ignorant.

I call them inconsiderate because they don’t consider that the fact that it isn’t so easy to be yourself, for many reasons. One of those reasons being that it isn’t possible for you to be yourself if you don’t know who you are. It’s impossible to do that if you walk around the world being confused, and not knowing whose advice to take. So, everyone that ever told someone to be themself, ask them, “Are you confused about who you are supposed to be?” first.

I also call them ignorant because of many reasons. Ignorant means ‘lack of knowledge’. The people that say not to change who you are for other people lack the knowledge that when you’re a celebrity, you’re OBLIGATED to change everything about who you are for the media, and for the fans. You have no choice.

In other words, don’t tell me to be myself and to not change for other people if you don’t know my story. That’s inconsiderate and ignorant, like I’ve said many times in the last few paragraphs. Don’t tell me those things, because you don’t know me. You don’t know who I am, and I don’t either.

But for now, I’m Janelle Stevenson, the daughter of Michael Stevenson (aka Tyga), and I’m the girl that does whatever she has to do to get her Daddy’s attention and to keep her family together. I’m the girl that follows the rules of publicity—if that’s what it takes. I’m the girl that does what is appropriate to do, because that’s what someone said I had to do.

No, I’m not a puppet. I’m not a pet.

I just follow the credentials of fame.

* * *

“So, what really does your life entail of Tyga?” The interviewer asked.

“My life entails of a lot of things, like my beautiful family. I have an amazing wife, and two incredible children. As a matter of fact, if you’re watching this right now, I love y’all so much.” He replied.

Daddy wasn’t finished speaking, but I turned the TV off anyway. I couldn’t stand seeing those interviews with Daddy.

“So he has a beautiful family right?” I said under my breath. “Well it wouldn’t hurt to actually spend time with that family sometimes.”

I knew Mama hated it when I talked like that. But it was true. Daddy was always going on these useless tours and abandoning us. And Mama just loved him too much to admit it.

“Baby, don’t say that. Your father loves us, like he said. He’s just busy with his music.” Mama said. She sat next to me on our burgundy leather sofa in the den of our huge house. I stared at the black screen of the wide television up on our wall, and I started to sweat. Just a little at the top of my forehead. I knew that feeling too well.

I was mad. I was furious.

I stood up and looked at my mother seated on the couch. She was beautiful, really. She could have any man she wanted. Mama didn’t deserve a man who dumps his family in mansions and goes on tour, sleeping with how many groupies—not to mention the fact that he still talks to Blac Chyna, the girl who he got pregnant the same time he got Mama pregnant with me—and doesn’t realize how upset we are about what he does.

But I couldn’t tell Mama that.

“Wake up, Mama. You have to realize that Daddy isn’t committed to us. It’s the truth.” After saying that, I wanted to cry. Because I knew she wouldn’t wake up.

She wouldn’t wake up.

I left the den and walked upstairs to my room (which was way too large for a thirteen year old) and flew myself onto the bed, trying my best not to cry. But the tears still filled up the brim up my eyes, so I wiped them before they could roll down my cheeks.

I looked up at the calendar above my bed, and looked at the red x at the beginning at the red x at the end. It’s still fourteen more days until he gets off tour.

Every time Daddy came back, I always tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal. I always tried to make him know that I was still not on good terms with him. But it always turned out that when he came through that door with his arms open, I would leap into his embrace and squeeze him as hard as I could.

Ok, so I loved my Dad too much. I knew that. And I was trying to stop it. But I mean, you have to love your dad when he’s Tyga, one of the most famous rappers of the last few years.

Suddenly, my phone rang. I picked it up off of the little bedside table. It was my best friend, Shay.

“Hey.” I answered lowly.

“What’s up with you?” She asked. Of course, she could tell by my voice that I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the moment.

“The same problem I’ve been having, Shay. I’m thinking about the fact that Daddy is probably cheating on Mama with random groupies and Chyna. And I’m thinking about the fact that Mama is in denial about that. And I don’t know where Junior is.” I complained, shaking my head. I had to speak softly—if Mama heard me, she would disagree, and we would get into an argument.

“Janelle, stop worrying. Junior is probably just out with his friends.” Shay said in a relaxed manner. I knew she was trying to calm me down, but I felt like she really didn’t understand the importance of the situation.

“Let’s just hope that none of those friends are Bianca.” I remarked. I don’t know why, but Junior recently started hanging out with Bianca, Blac Chyna’s daughter. She was born a couple months after Junior and I. My Daddy got Mama and Blac Chyna pregnant at the same time, but Mama ended up having premature born twins. And Blac Chyna’s daughter is exactly like her—vicious and annoying, and she loves to mess with people’s lives.

I can’t stand her.

“Actually, you should hope he is with her. Because if it isn’t her that he’s with, then it’s those drug-dealing boys. And you’re doing a bad job at keeping your brother away from heroin.” Shay stated.

I rolled my eyes and told her some story about how I couldn’t be on the phone any longer. I didn’t have time to hear someone telling about exactly what had been bothering me instead of cheering me up.

I got up from the bed and walked over to the large mirror on one wall of my room. Essentially, I looked pretty okay. My mocha colored hair was just washed and looked soft and curly. I finally lost another two pounds, so I was back to the slender figure that I had before I started to get a little chubby. My lips were smothered in some sticky pink lip gloss, and my skin was vibrant and clear besides a few puberty pimples.

I looked into the eyes of my reflection.

“Who are you?” I asked aloud.

There was no response. The girl in the mirror just stared back at me.

I sighed and walked away from the mirror to slip some sneakers onto my feet. I had to go out there and look for my brother, once again. Hopefully he wasn’t with Bianca, and he wasn’t taking drugs.

Hopefully, he wasn’t with his druggy friends and he wasn’t with Bianca. Hopefully, he was alive, and just taking a walk to get away from things.

But when I got outside, I realized that I probably wouldn’t be able to find my brother. My entire neighborhood was flooded with girls (and boys) chanting one word loudly in unison.

Mindless.

A/N: That’s the first chapter! I know it might be stupid, but hey, I tried writing this about fifty times. This was the best I could give you. And I think it’s pretty good, actually. But tell me what YOU think in comments. I appreciate all my readers, but all you silent readers out there: go ahead and comment! I want your feedback! Thanks!