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

Chapter 21: Beginning Of The New .

Janelle’s POV

I woke up startled and out of breath. I looked around the room I was in. It had a shelf with dolls and games on it, one big bed that I was on, a window, and a radio on the windowsill. Chresanto was lying in the bed next to me, fast asleep.

I had been having a dream about being pushed onto train tracks, and right when the train came I managed to get back on the platform…but then someone shot me. What kind of dream was that?

“Chresanto,” I tapped him, “wake up.”

He moaned. “Where are we?” I asked him.

“Lana…” He mumbled. Then I remembered everything from last night. The guest room door was closed shut and so was the window. The lights were off, but the morning sunlight was pouring through the window. I got off the bed and tiptoed to the door.

I didn’t hear anything at first, but then I heard low talking coming from somewhere. A heavy voice was continuously speaking, probably a man’s voice. Probably Lana’s father.

The talking would stop for a few seconds and start back up. I wondered if it was Lana’s mother talking during these pauses.

“She’ll tell us when they’re gone.” Chresanto said. I turned around to look at him. He was still wrapped up under the comforters, his eyes half open and his hair messy. He licked his lips and patted my side of the bed.

I walked away from the door and crawled back under the comforter beside him. He wrapped both arms around me and pulled me closer, kissing my forehead.

“You move a lot in your sleep.” He said.

“You look cute in the morning.” I replied.

“You wake up like you’re scared.” Chresanto said.

“That’s because of bad dreams.”

“I can protect you from those, boo.”

I laughed and he kissed me softly, both of us ignoring our morning breath. The door suddenly swung open though, interrupting us. Lana was standing there in a robe and shorts, shaking her head.

“Oh, hell naw. Y’all ain’t gon’ be doing all that lovey-dovey crap up in here. At least not when the door’s unlocked.” She said with her hand on her hip. Chresanto sighed as we broke the kiss.

“Lana, why you so ghetto?” He asked her. I laughed.

“’Cause y’all in my house. Now hurry up and get downstairs for breakfast so we can talk.” Lana left the room and slammed the door behind her. Chresanto shook his head.

“I never liked her.” He said as I laughed at him.

“I can tell.” I replied. We got out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen we’d passed last night. The sLanal of maple syrup took over the kitchen. Lana was apparently making waffles. I sat down at the table in the middle of the room and Chresanto went to close the blinds in the window.

“Why you closing my blinds?” Lana, who was taking her waffles out of the oven, asked.

“Because people aren’t supposed to see us in here.” Chresanto told her.

“Well you gotta ask my permission for stuff like that.” She said assertively.

“Oh really? So when one of your neighbors sees us or one of the boys that you bring in here while your parents are gone and tells them about it, you would be wishing I closed the blinds for you.” He answered her just as assertively. I snickered. She rolled her eyes and poured maple syrup all over her waffles. Chresanto came to sit next to me at the table and so did Lana with her plate. She started eating, not saying a word to either of us.