The Rolexxx Club - Anniversary Edition

by Meta Smith

  “She has zero class. She’s all sex. Why can’t they see through that? What’s she got that I haven’t got besides fake boobs and a porno tape? Ha! Well, I can think of one thing that I have that she doesn’t, and that’s the top dog, Sparks. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that man stays mine. I’ll even get knocked up if I have to.” Leilani grinned deviously as she patted her pancake-flat stomach. She arched her back and stuck her belly way out to see what she’d look like with child. “That’s more Dez’s style, but drastic times call for drastic measures,” Leilani stated with disdain.

  “Hell, I did not go to college, I did not give up modeling to become Dez’s do-girl. These sacrifices are going to payoff one way or another! But Sparks is the key! Right now he’s my life. There’s nothing more important than winning his heart and his trust. I’ve just got to fight fire with fire, starting immediately. Shit! Once I hit Sparks with the poom poom, it’s a wrap, baby” Leilani grinned with satisfaction. She knew what she had to do.

  EVERYDAY SPARKS WONDERED WHY HE WAS EVEN IN THE

  music industry. He hated the attention it brought and all the drama it entailed. Everyone was grimy; they were all out for self. He had to deal with A&R reps and his other staff, producers, distributors, the media, and his artists. What was the payoff, fame? Fame was overrated. Sure, there was money. But what good was money unless there was someone special for him to share it with? He’d gotten over the initial hype of buying extravagant gifts for himself, friends, and family. He’d secured investments in his future; he owned stocks, bonds, and real estate. But it all still felt empty.

  He’d done the groupie thing. But he never derived much pleasure from using women and throwing them away. He remembered how happy his parents had been when they were alive, and he wanted something like

  that. Sparks wanted a family. Bentley had been so young when their folks died. Sparks surmised that Bentley tried to replace his longing for a mother figure with all the different women he bedded. Sparks was happy when his brother seemed to be willing to slow down and give love a chance with Dez.

  At first Sparks believed that he’d met someone special that he could share not only his fortune with but his dreams and even the hard times. He thought both he and his brother had lucked up and found the women of their dreams. But Dez and Bentley’s relationship now seemed dead, and there was something unsettling about Leilani. She was beautiful, she was smart, and she had a bright future ahead of her. But Leilani was cold. Everything about her seemed calculated; she was totally devoid of passion. She also seemed to lack a heart. When he’d tried to discuss Dez’s situation with her, Leilani just called Dez nasty names and pressured him to drop her from the label.

  Leilani had even gone so far as to accuse Sparks and Dez of having an affair, and if there was one thing Sparks couldn’t stand, it was an insecure woman. Leilani claimed that the reason Sparks was giving Dez a chance was that he had feelings for her. He’d told her that the whole idea was nonsense. He and Bentley were brothers, and he would never date the same woman his brother had dated. But was Leilani that far off the mark?

  The truth of the matter was that he was, in fact, feeling Dez. She was the total package. She was beautiful, talented, and street-smart. She was confident and she had fire. And because he got to spend so much time with her, he discovered that Dez was a sweet and compassionate person. She just hid behind her tough-girl image. But what difference did it make if he was feeling her or not? Dez was off-limits. Or was she?

  BENTLEY COULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT HAD HAPPENED. FOR THE

  first time, he felt love for a female, but just as he had already known, bitches weren’t shit. He thought that Dez was special, that if “the one” existed, she was it. But he was wrong. How was she different from any other groupie besides the fact that she could flow? She’d whored herself out for the whole world to see, and made that country, ‘Bama-ass Dirty Dan a fortune in the process. Bentley couldn’t refute the fact that he still had love in his heart for Dez. But his head was telling him to cut the bitch loose. When word got out, if he was linked to her, he’d be the laughing stock of the industry. He’d look like a trick and a sucker.

  “How the fuck does Sparks think that this can possibly be good for business?” Bentley wondered aloud. “This ain’t gonna cause shit but drama.”

  But there were still so many unanswered questions he had. How did Dez get away with lying about her age for so long? Why did she run away? What was the nature of her relationship with Dan? Dez had tried to explain, but he wouldn’t listen; he had his pride. All she was going to do was spit some game to him. He knew he definitely couldn’t trust her, so what difference could it make, what she had to say? It would probably be all lies.

  But all Bentley could seem to focus on were her angelic face, her sweet lips, the sound of her moans when they made love, and her soft, warm body. He could still recall the way she called his name. How was he supposed to pretend that she was never in his life? And what were his other options? The thought of his future without her seemed empty, like it was lacking something.

  Focus! He had to stay focused! He just had to forget about Dez. But how? She was his labelmate; he’d have to see her. Bentley hoped to God that the old saying about time healing all wounds was true, because he was hurting and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight.

  FOR DEZ THE NIGHTMARISH PART OF THE VIDEO HAD ENDED,

  but her life was still like a bad dream. Surprisingly, things on the set had turned out okay after the videotape fiasco. There had been a few changes in wardrobe and location, and the concept of the video was changed. Sparks and Hype had decided to give it a rawer, edgier vibe and forgo the cliché models and bottles theme that had been oversaturating the airwaves in practically every rap video. They scrapped most of the celebrity cameos, opting instead for footage of the real Miami streets- Liberty City, Overtown, Carol City. The result was a unique video that focused on Dez’s and Bentley’s lyrical skills and Hype’s famous special effects. Adding to the hardcore vibe of the video was the tension between her and Bentley. Their freestyle battle was phenomenal and very personal but had generated such positive feedback from test audiences that Sparks decided to release the results as a remix.

  But the battle didn’t do anything to help matters between Dez and Bentley. He avoided her at all costs and didn’t speak to her when they did happen to cross paths. Dez offered futilely to sit down and explain the

  chain of events that led to her making the tape. But his attitude was that she’d had her chance; why would he listen to her after she’d had ample time to concoct some kind of story to arouse his sympathy?

  K.G. paged her incessantly, but he was the last person she felt like talking to. In a brief conversation with him she had told him about her record deal and that the relationship was over. But he didn’t believe her. He told her that she was going through a phase and that if she needed time, he would give it to her. He told her that he was confident that she’d hate the music industry; therefore, he’d let her explore her options and he’d be there for her when she inevitably “came home to Daddy.” It was the most blatant form of denial she’d ever seen.

  After their talk she ignored the messages, often deleting them without reading them. He was starting to freak her out a little; most men would have gotten the hint. They’d had a thing, now it was over. Couldn’t he understand that? She’d never told him that she loved him. He’d spent an awful lot of money on her, but that was the nature of the game. Besides, he had plenty of money; the chips he’d laced her with wouldn’t kill him.

  She had even cut up the American Express card and phoned them to cancel her account. He’d served his purpose; there was really no reason in juicing him any further. Besides, she was an emerging star. Fashion labels and jewelers would hunt her down to wear their clothes and jewelry. She wouldn’t need a man to take her on a shopping spree.

  Dez tried to focus on her work instead of her pain, but it was hard. Though she was extremely busy, sh
e couldn’t get Bentley out of her mind. Within days of shooting the video, she was off to New York to begin working on her album and publicize the remix with Bentley. She was staying with Sparks at his home in the Hamptons, where he had a complete state-of-the-art home studio and a helicopter pad. It made everything she’d previously thought of as the hotness pale in comparison. Dez had hoped she would be staying in the city, where she could really take a bite out of the Big Apple, but Sparks wasn’t hearing it. He insisted on total dedication to the project and didn’t want her distracted by the nightlife or his brother.

  Sparks also wanted to make sure that they capitalized on the controversy that had started to swirl around the label. He’d already orchestrated several brief, carefully staged casual appearances at a few nightclubs and restaurants, which had generated a lot of buzz in the media. Initially, Sparks had tried to keep the news of the Cancún tape as muted as possible, but Ysenia had other ideas.

  When Sparks, Dez, and Dan began mediation about a settlement

  regarding the tape and word leaked out to the press, Ysenia really had a field day. She claimed to have heard through the grapevine Dez’s true age, and stated that she only showed Bentley the tape to help Dez and not harm her. Ysenia was crafty, though, Sparks had to admit. She’d obviously hired a lawyer who was coaching her on how to dance across the fine line of defamation of character and exploitation of a minor. As long as Ysenia phrased her wording just so, it was difficult to do much to stop her from talking about Dez, and Ysenia was a master at manipulating words. Ysenia was very careful to separate her opinion from actual fact, and spoke only about Dez the adult, although technically, the only time Ysenia had had contact with Dez as an adult was at the video shooting.

  Was Dez really a porn star? Was she sleeping with both brothers? Where had she come from? What was she really about? Inquiring minds wanted to know. The rumor mill was spinning out of control, and the media were in a frenzy. Sparks knew that if he let Dez roam the streets of New York alone, it was like sending out a sheep amongst the wolves. He didn’t want her to be cornered anywhere by overzealous journalists or paparazzi without her having first undergone the proper media training. Sparks knew that Dez wasn’t ready for that scenario.

  Sparks assured Dez that under his watchful eye everything would work itself out. He knew that the only bad press was no press and insisted that all the hype would make buyers more curious if Dez could just bite the bullet and deal with it. But that didn’t give Dez any comfort. Ysenia was laughing all the way to the bank, and she’d totally fucked up Dez’s relationship with Bentley. What kind of vindication would she ever receive? Sparks said that Dez’s success was the best revenge, but Dez wanted Ysenia to pay in spades.

  Sparks had become like a big brother to her, and for that she was grateful. But there was a gaping hole where her heart used to be, and his friendship simply couldn’t fill it. Still, he tried. He couldn’t help but notice the sadness in her pretty brown eyes; he felt helpless to do anything, and it frustrated him. The more time he spent with Dez, the more he could see that she was truly a good person. Beyond her hard core and aloofness, when he got to the real Dez, he saw that she was energetic and funny. He realized that people never got around to seeing it, because they were always after her for something. So she’d built walls around her heart to protect herself. He’d stayed up many a night wondering what had happened to her; she’d obviously been hurt, and he was determined to find out what her real story was.

  One night while they were recording in the studio, Dez couldn’t

  concentrate. She flubbed her lines, and even forgot some of them, even though she had written them herself.

  “Dez, come out here,” Sparks said over the intercom that piped into the soundproof booth of the recording studio. Tired and frustrated, she removed her headphones, set them on a stool, and joined Sparks at the mixing console.

  “Yo! What the fuck is the matter, Dez?” he interrogated her. “You’re so off today. Is the shit with my brother still bothering you? It’s been over a month.”

  “Yeah,” she admitted softly. “He acts like he doesn’t even know me. And he said he loved me. I thought that love meant giving people chances. I guess I fell for the okeydoke. He never cared about me. He won’t even give me a chance to explain how I came to make that tape.” Dez fought hard to prevent the tears that were welling in her eyes from falling.

  “Look, Dez, that’s my brother. I know he had love for you. Y’all had just met, but I saw how he felt about you. The problem was that you had to deal with something of this magnitude before you could build a strong foundation. He still cares, trust me. But he’s not that mature. Me, on the other hand, I’m Mr. Maturity,” Sparks kidded, making a funny face and smoothing out his School House Rock T-shirt. Dez managed to crack a tiny smile. “Why don’t you tell me? I’m a good listener. Telling someone will help,” Sparks finished, taking her hand in his.

  “I don’t know,” she started.

  “We fam, right?” Sparks asked her, staring deep into her eyes. Damn, she is so beautiful. My brother is a fool, he thought, then felt guilty for thinking it. He pulled out a cigar and began rolling a blunt in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts.

  “Of course, Sparks. But it’s a really long story. And it’s so fucked-up. Right about now you’re the only friend I’ve got. If I tell you I might lose you. I couldn’t bear that,” Dez confided. She grabbed a bottle of cognac from a nearby table and poured herself a stiff drink.

  “You won’t lose me. I’m from Harlem. I’ve seen it all and done it all. I swear I won’t think any differently of you. Do you trust me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then tell me. Maybe I can help. Maybe I can get Bentley to listen to you, or help you explain things,” he offered.

  “No!” she responded vehemently. “This stays between me and you.

  Swear to me,” Dez said, panicked.

  “I put it on everything. I’ll take whatever you tell me to the grave. Here, blaze this, and relax.” Sparks handed her the blunt and she lit it,

  inhaling deeply.

  “Okay, here goes...It’s not like I thought the shit would never come back to haunt me. I knew that it would eventually, because what’s done in the dark will always come to light. And Lord knows I had it coming because karma is a motherfucker. But then again, isn’t karma just a bunch of bullshit? I mean, think of all the babies that die every day that never did anything to anyone. Did they have it coming to them? Did they deserve the bad things that happened to them?” Dez rambled.

  “Stop stalling, Dez. I’m not judging you, remember?” Sparks said firmly.

  “Okay, okay. People have all these ideas in their head about me, who I am, what I’m about. The truth is that nobody knows me cuz I barely know my own damn self. No one can say shit to me unless they been through what I’ve been through. Nobody else could begin to even understand. I didn’t ask for the cards that I was dealt. I only played the game the best way that I knew how. I cheated a lot, too, but I had to do what I had to do to stay in the game, to stay alive. I couldn’t just quit. I wasn’t some suburban girl who could call on mommy and daddy whenever I got in a pinch. I can’t control where I was born and how I grew up. Because if I could, I would have chosen some fly shit, not the bullshit I had to live through.”

  “Let me give you some advice, Dez,” Sparks interrupted. “Don’t bend over. You don’t have to apologize with me or with anyone else for who you are. Fearlessly be yourself. If other people can’t see how special you are, if they can’t see past what you’ve been through to who you are now, then it’s their fault. Not yours. You’ve gotta stop giving folks a disclaimer. It’s like giving them permission to judge you.” He smiled at her.

  Dez felt her heart flutter a bit. He was so cute, just like his brother. And he seemed to truly care for her, but then again, so had his brother. The painful memory made her tense up. Instinctively, Sparks sensed this. “Look, Dez. Why don’t you tell me about who
you are? Who were you

  before you ran away from home?” Sparks prodded gently.

  “Well,” Desiree started cautiously, “I was a good girl. I got good grades, stayed out of trouble. I had friends, but mostly, I kind of stuck to myself. My home life was really fucked-up. My mother was Dominican. My dad was African American. They met when my mother was in high school, right after her graduation they got married, and a few months later I came along.” Desiree began to feel herself loosen up, but was uncertain if it was due to Sparks’s caring nature or the cognac.

  “My mother’s family had a fit, because my mom could have gone to

  community college right away, then maybe gotten a scholarship to a four- year school. She was real smart. But she had to put that all on hold,” Dez explained.

  “Do you feel like the reason she didn’t go to school was your fault?” Sparks asked.