Prince of the Ghetto

Prince of the Ghetto 8

Chapter 8

"You're all over the news," Jalen told me.

Fuck.

This was exactly the thing that I did not need. I had walked downstairs to see Jalen and Brolic watching television. Marcus was looking outside of the window.

Jalen's mom was there muttering the same words with her toothless grin, "Prince...Prince..."

They were reporting my location. I was all over the news. Video of me on the subway had appeared and paparazzi pictures of me walking into Jalen's apartment had showed up. This wasn't good. My cover was blown. Everyone knew where I was.

I watched the reporter describing the fact that someone who was thought to be dead was alive. Marcus had been on the phone the entire time with everyone from my uncle to detectives who had been investigating the death of my father.

"Are they still out there?" I asked Marcus.

He nodded, "I've called a publicist to go out there and make a statement on your behalf. They'll say that you are safe and sound but still mourning your mother. The publicist will make a statement that you would like to be left alone."

"Is he safe though?" Jalen asked.

I thought about it. My cover was blown. I understood exactly what Jalen was getting at in this moment.

I had to keep a strong face though, "Marcus will protect me..."

Brolic was laughing at that moment, "Against who? We all know that the Princess isn't safe here and maybe that's for the best. Maybe the Princess should leave."

"That level is disrespect is going to have to stop," Marcus replied to Brolic.

"Or what?"

Brolic got up at that moment. Was he an idiot? Marcus got in his face ready to protect my name. Brolic was so into himself and such a dickhead. He had no idea how dangerous Marcus really was. The fact that he had the nerve to keep disrespecting me to my face over and over was ridiculous. Brolic took a step forward and Marcus held out his hand. Brolic basically walked right into his hand and was pushed a little bit. I could see Brolic's face screw up at that moment.

"Stop, I'll deal with my brother," Jalen replied, "You guys are still guests in this house..."

"Your brother is disrespecting the prince to his face. In my country that is more than enough to be killed."

"This isn't your country," Jalen replied, "This is my house and I'll deal with my brother. He's an idiot. I know that. Believe me. But I won't have any back and forth as well."

I kind of understood what Jalen was saying. Brolic was a hot head but Jalen was the only one he seemed to listen to a lot of the time. It made sense. With a mother like the one they had it seemed like they would have had to depend on one another for a very long time. I understood it. I didn't mind the fact that Jalen was kind of taking authority in the apartment.

Marcus was a different story though.

"Well then I believe it's time we leave."

Jalen stepped forward all of a sudden, "I didn't say you guys had to leave..."

"I believe we outstayed our welcome," Marcus told him, "It is becoming clear that we have. The media knows where we are. I've talked to Djimon's uncle. We are going to head up to the fortress tomorrow afternoon."

What?

"When were you going to let me know about this?" I asked Marcus.

Marcus shook his head, "This is for your own safety, Prince Djimon. You aren't safe here any longer. Everyone knows you are alive and they know where you are located. Tomorrow afternoon armed guards are coming to transport you safely out of here."

Jalen was looking at me. We exchanged looks actually. I could actually read his face. Tomorrow. That was it. That was the end.

"You don't have to go," Jalen stated.

"It's not up to you," Marcus replied.

"It's not up to you either. I'm not speaking to you. I'm speaking to the prince," Jalen replied before turning to me, "You don't have to leave Djimon."

"I...I---"

"Let's talk in private..."

I didn't even have the chance to say anything before Jalen grabbed me. He pulled me upstairs. I watched Marcus eyeballing him the entire time. Marcus didn't seem like he was in a good mood about this. When we were upstairs Jalen looked a little...emotional to say the least.

He looked like he wasn't truly convinced.

"Jalen, maybe I do need to go," I stated.

"So you're just going to leave me?" he asked.

There was something about the way he was talking that jiggled at my soul a little bit. This was personal. It was completely personal.

"It's not safe here any longer," I replied, "Marcus is right."

"Marcus is jealous. How do you not see that?"

"Marcus is just doing his job," I told him.

"So what...am I never going to see you again after tomorrow?" Jalen asked me, "Is this goodbye or something?"

I thought about it. I would have to go into hiding now. I had gone to a secure place before. I didn't have the freedom that I would like. A part of me had the feeling that tomorrow would be the last time I ever saw Jalen. That same part of me was tearing up a little bit.

I was trying to hold this tough face but for some reason I had become attached to Jalen. I had become attached to being around him and it was clear that he was just as attached to me.

"I don't know," I replied.

Jalen sighed deeply, "Yes you do know..."

Jalen wasn't letting up. He was holding on almost clenching at this emotion and he was making this so difficult. Duty was something that I had always knew was going to be a part of my life.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Say that I'm not in this alone."

"In what?"

"In this..."

Jalen was grabbing onto my hand. He was holding onto my hand. His fingers clasped against mine. Our fingers rubbed up against one another. The way that I felt with him holding me like that just made me want to give up my throne completely.

"Jalen. In my country royalty don't fall in love. We are matched. I will be matched to some rich young beautiful heiress whose family would help finance my rule. I will have bratty little kids. I'll...shit...I'll probably be a tyrant just like my father. Shit doesn't change...no matter how much I want it to."

"I'm not Marcus."

"What?"

Jalen was looking at me. His eyes slanted. His light complexion pressed up against my dark one. He was getting close. He was getting so close to me. I didn't understand what he meant by that but I did get it.

"I'm not Marcus. I'm not going have all these feelings for you but be afraid to act on it because of what your country is like. I don't give a fuck about pomp and circumstance. I'm here for you."

"You should care," a voice stated.

I realized it was Marcus. Shit. He had heard what Jalen stated about him. Marcus was standing behind Jalen. The look Marcus gave Jalen at that moment made me think he was ready to straight up fight him. I was kind of nervous for Jalen. Jalen was tough and he was from the hood but Marcus was well-trained. I didn't want to see them fight.

Jalen's face wasn't that far off from Marcus however. Jalen was giving him the nastiest eye that I had ever seen him give someone, "What part of private don't you understand?"

"The part that involves Djimon," Marcus replied almost immediately without thinking, "Because he's a prince and you are...you are nothing. I let this go on for too long. I'm not going to sit here and let you honestly think you have a shot at whatever the fuck you are trying to get at."

"You know exactly what I'm getting at," Jalen replied.

"Do I?"

"Love."

Marcus sighed and rolled his eyes, "He's out of your league."

Marcus wasn't holding back. A part of me wanted to step in but I didn't know what to say. It was clear they were arguing over me. It was clear that I was central to this. I agreed with Marcus mentally but emotionally I agreed with Jalen. I didn't know what to say. I was completely torn and I felt stupid. I felt as though I had no control over this situation.

"No he's out of yours," Jalen replied, "Because you are too much of a punk ass bitch to make your move. I'm not."

"Oh ok, attack me with your ghetto slang. Very classy," Marcus replied.

"I don't give a fuck about classy," Jalen told him, "If I did I would be like you. I would be stuck wanting someone secretly and letting it destroy me everyday. Admit it Marcus. Just fucking admit it."

"I'm not arguing with a street rat."

"Oh you are today! You're going to argue with me today! Admit why you are so threatened by me."

"This is dumb..."

"ADMIT IT!"

"Yes. I'm in love with Djimon!" Marcus replied, "Is that what you want to hear!"

Shit got quiet immediately.

Shit got awkward.

Marcus was looking at me instead of Jalen. His eyes were stuck on me. They weren't moving. He was shaking. It was the first time that I saw Marcus shake like that. He was shaking almost violently. His composure was completely gone. It was almost as though he had lost himself at that moment. His eyes were puffed up but no tears came down. It was almost as though Marcus had been holding onto that secret all his life and he was forced to expose it. The burden seemed so heavy for him. It felt heavy to hear. I could only imagine how heavy it was for him to come out with it.

I felt so bad for him. Jalen had gone too far doing that to him.

Jalen all of a sudden looked like he was redeemed, "See. I knew it. Djimon. I knew it. I kept telling you---"

"Enough," I stated.

Marcus seemed to be having a mental breakdown. He was breathing so heavy. Jalen had finally gotten the best of him and exposed him. I thought about how I felt about it. I wondered how it would be like to hear it from Marcus himself that he honestly did feel something towards me. I used to think it would have been redeeming. I used to think it would have felt good. It didn't feel good though. The look in Marcus's eyes was this hopelessness. It was the same hopelessness that I had.

"He's jealous. He's..."

"ENOUGH!" I replied, "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if you have feelings towards me. It doesn't matter if Marcus has feelings towards me. If I loved one of you back or I loved both of you back it doesn't matter either. What matters is a throne. A cold throne in a country where people are put in jail for homosexuality. This road to emotion is a dead end. It doesn't matter."

"You don't have to go back," Jalen stated.

He wasn't giving up. A part of me wished I could believe him. A part of me wished it was that easy. The cold throne was the reason I was born however. That was my purpose in life. That was the only reason I was born. The idea that Jalen was so free in his American ways was making this difficult. He didn't understand what I was saying.

"Yes I do," I stated, "Tomorrow morning I'll fulfill my promise to you. We'll go get your mother instituted and get her the help she needs. I'll pay for everything. And in the afternoon I'll leave. For good. You won't see me again."

"No. I'm not going to take that. Say you don't feel anything for me! Say it and I'll give up! Say it...see you're walking away! You can't take it. Don't walk away! Djimon! Djimon! Don't shut that door. Djimon! OPEN UP! SAY YOU FEEL SOMETHING FOR ME! SAY HOW YOU REALLY FEEL."

I had closed the door to the bedroom.

Jalen was knocking on it. I had left Marcus in the hallway breathing heavy. I had left both of them. Me closing that door was more than me just closing a door. I was shutting away my emotions. I was getting cold.

And no matter how hard Jalen knocked or how hard Marcus breathed...I wasn't going to let either one of them in.

It was late that night when there was a knock on the door. It went to open it to see that it was Marcus.

"I should begin packing your things..." Marcus stated.

"I packed everything already."

"You didn't have to do that," Marcus replied.

Marcus seemed to have regained his composure. He was his regal self again. His face wasn't full of emotion like I had seen in the hallway. He was back to being the handsome, statue looking god-like Adonis that I always knew him to be. His perfect features seemed to glitter even in the dim lights of the ghetto. He had regained his pride.

But I had seen what he looked like broken. When Jalen had called him out in the way that Jalen called him out Marcus was completely broken.

"I don't look at you as a servant."

"You should..." Marcus replied, "That's all that I am."

Marcus walked over to the bags at that moment.

"Suit yourself."

There was no point in arguing with him. Marcus would never admit to even being a friend. I was a prince to him. I was his prince. He would say that over and over. He would never admit to anything more than that.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked, "Have I offended you?"

"No."

"What I said earlier...was a mistake," Marcus replied.

I knew he would bring it up. It was against all his protocol to say something like that. It seemed like it had taken a very personal toll on him. I remembered seeing how he shook in the hallway just to say what he said.

"So you aren't in love with me?" I asked Marcus almost amused at the fact that he was all of a sudden taking it back.

Marcus shied away from a direct answer, "I'm talking about the action."

"What action?"

"Me telling you. That was a mistake."

"So you do feel it but the mistake was you telling me?" I asked, "Just trying to get this right in my head..."

"Yes. And me...feeling the way I did for so many years."

"How many years?"

"That's not the point Prince. The point was feeling the way that I did is also a mistake."

"Feeling the way you did? Past tense?"

He thought about it. Just earlier it was very much a present emotion of his.

His reply was solemn, "Please don't make this difficult, Prince Djimon."

"You brought it up. Not me. I was simply trying to gain clarity in what you were trying to say, Marcus. That is all."

"I..."

He said something under his breath.

I got up off the bed at that moment and took a few steps closer, "I didn't hear you."

"Please don't come any closer," he replied.

I was making him nervous. I could tell. He didn't want me to get close. I wondered what he said under his breath and wanted to ask him to repeat it again. I knew that wasn't going to repeat what he said.

I nodded. It was hopeless. It was all hopeless.

"Carry on then, servant," I told him.

Marcus had grabbed the bags that were laid across the floor. He was taking them downstairs most likely so he wouldn't have to do them in the morning. I watched him for a while. I watched his muscles flex. I watched his handsome face intensely trying not to make eye contact with me. I watched him the entire time just knowing that this was all hopeless.

It was almost painful to see really.

Marcus walked away and I could have sworn I saw a single tear escape his eye...but then again I could have been imagining it.

=========================================================================

I walked downstairs the next morning. I was planning on finally helping Jalen's mother get instituted so she could get the help that she needed. It was the least that I could do.

Marcus was in the shower it seemed like and Brolic was probably in his room. I made my way downstairs only to hear talking.

It was Jalen.

He was talking to his girlfriend.

"Leslie, I have something I have to tell you," Jalen was saying.

I stopped in the living room before walking into the kitchen where they were. I didn't want to spy on him but I couldn't help it. I felt like it would be more than awkward for me to just walk into the kitchen in the way that I was.

"What's up?"

"You know Djimon right?" Jalen stated, "Well he isn't my long lost cousin."

"Figured that."

"You did?"

"I mean you never mentioned having African in your blood. Plus I mean your entire family is high yellow. Not stereotyping. I just never got that from you guys. So if he isn't your cousin then who is he..."

"He's someone important."

"Like celebrity important."

"Like Prince important," Jalen replied.

"Nu-uh..."

"I'm serious," Jalen replied, "It doesn't matter though. That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to talk to you about us... and him...and..."

"Cut to the chase..."

"I'm in love with him."

Shit.

It happened again. Twice in two days. Just yesterday Marcus had admitted to being in love with me. Now Jalen was admitting the same exact thing. With Jalen though there wasn't a hesitation. There wasn't even wondering. I hadn't known Jalen for that long. Could it really have been love? Maybe it was some sort of infatuation or something.

"You're joking?" she asked.

"I've never been so serious in my life."

Too soon. He was feeling this way too soon.

"So you're gay."

Jalen must have nodded or given some sort of non-verbal acknowledgment of her question. He jumped right into, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'm just confused. I..."

"I'm sorry."

Just that moment she walked out. As she walked out she stopped in the living room. She exchanged looks with me. Leslie had tears in her eyes. I felt kind of bad. She must have really had feelings for Jalen. I could completely understand how someone would fall for Jalen. He was kind. He was straightforward. He was handsome.

He was the realest person that I knew and he had changed me so much in just getting to meet him for the short time that I knew him.

Jalen had started to chase her but when he walked into the living room and saw me standing there he stopped. He allowed her to walk out of the house and he didn't pursue her any further.

"You didn't have to do that," I stated.

He shook his head, "I didn't do it for you."

"No?"

He shook his head, "I did it for me. Believe it or not. I didn't want to lead her on anymore knowing how I felt about someone else. It wasn't good for my soul."

Jalen was so straightforward. I envied the way he could just say it how it was. He wasn't afraid of anything. It was almost as though he didn't live in the same world as Marcus or I. He didn't let anyone come in his way when it came to things.

"I'm still leaving Jalen," I told him, "I made up my mind."

"So Marcus wins."

"Excuse me?"

"Marcus gets what he wants. He gets to be around you and yearn for you secretly for the rest of your life."

"That's not fair Jalen. Our lives are more complicated then you are trying to make it seem," I told him, "We are in America but we aren't Americans. The rules we live by are much more complex. You are talking down to Marcus. You're simplifying things."

"It is simple. Do you love him?"

Shit.

I had no idea. Love. I had never allowed myself to love Marcus. I hadn't even thought about it to be honest with you. At the same time however I hadn't allowed myself to love Jalen either. I had gotten to know him. I really liked him. I really liked them both.

Love was a different thing.

"Jalen, you should go get your mother so we can go take her to that institution. That is what we should be focusing on now."

Jalen shook his head, "Man I honestly thought you were different."

"What do you expect from me!"

"I expect you to be 100. I'm sitting here saying I'm trying to be with you bro. What part of that don't you get? You know what. Never mind. Never fucking mind. Go do what you do best. Go be the brat prince who only cares about himself."

Jalen walked away.

It wasn't fair, but then again maybe it was. I didn't know. All these emotions were floating around me every way possible. I didn't know how to deal with them.

We had all gone with to taken Jalen's mother to the institution. Brolic had even showed up. It was interesting to see him actually act nice to someone. It seemed like his family didn't get the same treatment as everyone else got. It was a nice institution. It was a mental ward that seemed very expensive.

"Stay close," Marcus told me.

"You really think I am in danger...these people are harmless.."

They were honestly sweet looking people. They seemed happy here as well. People in the mental institution walked past us smiling. There was a nice garden that I could see from the front room. People seemed to be sitting out here and really relaxing. This seemed like a good place for Jalen's mom to be. I could understand why Jalen wanted to bring here here. It said a lot about his character to want the best for her.

Hopefully this would help her out with the issues she had.

I looked at the bill at the front desk.

I handed them my card amazed how how expensive this place was, "Jesus. How do the common people afford something like this?"

"Yep. He just said common people," Brolic replied.

Jalen elbowed his brother hard to shut him up.

Jalen then turned to me, "Djimon, this means the world to us. Thank you. Right Brolic?"

Brolic nodded, "Right. The fact that he has so much money and he has to give a little bit away just means the world to us."

Jalen pushed him.

"He means to say you are special..."

Jalen was looking at me. It made me wonder. Brolic was right. This was such a small thing to do but Jalen was clearly extremely moved by it. The idea of something like this touching someone in the way it did meant so much. Nothing effected me like this. It seemed like I was so out of touch with the world. Even when my mom died I wasn't that in touch with it.

Going back I felt like I would be losing that feeling. I would be going right out of touch all over again. I had felt more emotion in the ghetto than I had ever felt anywhere else.

Jalen was giving me this look right now. That was pure emotion. It was emotion that let me know that I had deeply touched him.

"Oh god. Ew. Are you guys going to make out?" Brolic asked.

"No they aren't," Marcus replied almost immediately.

"Can I say goodbye to your mother?" I asked Jalen.

"Sure."

I walked over to Jalen's mother. She was smiling from ear to ear. She always seemed like such a happy lady.

"Djimon," she stated.

She wasn't calling me Mica. I was shocked.

"Yes. I just wanted to wish you luck. I wanted to tell you goodbye..."

She smiled and at that moment said the oddest thing. It was random and it came out of left field. Jalen's mom just smiled and said, "Don't forget to be happy."

We took a cab back. I couldn't help but to think about what Jalen's mom had said. She said not to forget to be happy. The words just rung into my mind. It shouldn't have meant anything. She wasn't mentally stable. She could have been talking to anyone honestly. It probably wasn't even me. It could have been anyone in the world.

However the words just stayed stuck with me.

Don't forget to be happy.

Don't forget to be happy.

"What the hell is going on with all the motherfucking traffic?" Brolic was saying.

"Watch your mouth," Jalen replied.

Brolic was right though. Something was happening. Maybe an accident or something was ahead but there was a ton of traffic.

We weren't far from the house.

"We can't miss our flight," Marcus stated, "We have to rendezvous with your security detail shortly. It was a mistake for us to leave this morning."

"Marcus---you aren't helping," I told him.

I knew he was just doing his job but he had a way of sounding very worrisome at times. I could tell how he kept checking the time that he was getting nervous.

"You're in such a rush to get him to yourself huh?" Jalen stated.

"Excuse me?" Marcus replied.

"Can we not do this right now?" I asked, "Driver...isn't their an express lane."

Brolic rolled his eyes, "No. Unfortunately common people have to go through traffic. No one in New York traffic cares that you own a country."

"Do you always have to be a dickhead to him?" Jalen asked.

The traffic was ridiculous. Something was off. Something was weird about it. I wonder if Marcus noticed. The traffic had almost come out of no where.

"Sorry I hurt your boyfriend's feelings."

I noticed in the distance a man. He was dark skin. He had a handsome face. He had a regal walk. He was dressed in all black. He was walking in the middle of the street. He wasn't alone. There were others with him. The were walking in the middle of the street quickly making their way towards us.

"That is not his boyfriend," Marcus replied.

Marcus wasn't even paying attention. He was so into the this beef with Jalen. Even now.

"Guys..." I started.

"You are going to make sure of that aren't you?" Jalen asked.

"God made sure of it when he made Djimon a prince."

"Well we seemed like we were on the same level when I had my tongue down his throat," Jalen was replying.

"Guys!"

Just at that moment there was a knock on the window. The men in black were there. They surrounded the taxi cab that I was in.

All of a sudden Marcus was on his guard.

"Don't open that window!" Marcus stated.

It was pointless.

The men took out some sort of hammer and smashed the window. Something was thrown into the car. It was a smoke bomb or something like that.

In the next moment there was nothing but darkness.

To read the next chapter please go to www.crushedcrown.com