Chapitre 66: TBC
JFK Airport bustled with early morning activity as Arell and Geoffrey made their way through the terminal. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow, making Arell's tired eyes ache. He'd barely slept since the incident in Atlanta, his mind a constant whirlwind of thoughts and doubts.
As they walked, Arell's eyes darted around, a habit born from watching his back. Even here in New York, far from the immediate danger, he couldn't shake the feeling of being on edge.
"You good?" Geoffrey asked, noticing Arell's tense posture.
Arell nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. The events in Atlanta kept replaying in his head. The sound of shattering glass, the screech of tires, Reese's enraged face illuminated by muzzle flashes. It all felt surreal now, like a fever dream.
They had come to New York for The Breakfast Club interview, a chance to tell their side of the story, to control the narrative. But as they approached the security checkpoint, Arell couldn't help but wonder if they were just adding fuel to the fire.
'Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.' Geoffrey's words from the night before echoed in his mind. The consequences of their actions were starting to sink in. If things escalated, if Reese ended up dead, Arell knew he'd be the prime suspect. The thought of having all of Chicago's Black Disciples gunning for him made his stomach churn.
One wrong move, and everything he'd built could come crashing down.
As they passed through security, Arell's thoughts turned to Kenny. They hadn't spoken since their heated argument in the van. Part of Arell understood Kenny's frustration. The desire for revenge, to hit back harder, it burned in him too. But the logical part of his brain, the part that had kept him alive this long, knew that escalation would only lead to more bloodshed.
"You're thinking about Kenny, aren't you?" Geoffrey's voice cut through his thoughts.
Arell sighed, running a hand over his face. "Yeah. I get where he's coming from, you know? Part of me wants to go all out, to make Reese pay for everything. But..."
"But you know that's not the smart play," Geoffrey finished for him.
Arell nodded. "It's just... we didn't really do much, did we? We shot up their rides, scared them a bit. But Reese is still out there, still a threat."
Geoffrey placed a hand on Arell's shoulder, his voice low and serious. "Listen. What we did in Atlanta, that was a message. We showed Reese we can get to him. But if we take it further, if we cross that line, there's no coming back from that. You kill Reese, and it's not just his friends you'll have to worry about. It's everyone. The streets, the law, everyone will be gunning for you."
Arell knew Geoffrey was right. Killing Reese might satisfy that primal urge for revenge, but it would also paint a target on his back that he'd never be able to shake.
As they reached their gate, Arell slumped into a seat, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the bustling airport terminal. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Kenny, usually his most ardent supporter, was pushing for more violence, while Devon was having second thoughts. And then there was Malik, often the voice of dissent, suddenly aligning with Arell's more measured approach. The whole situation felt upside down.
"It's funny, you know," Arell muttered, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "Kenny's out here ready to start a war, Devon's getting cold feet, and Malik... Malik's actually backing me up for once. World's gone crazy."
Geoffrey nodded, his expression neutral as he processed the information.
"The dynamics within a group often shift under pressure," Geoffrey observed. "But again, you're making the right decision, Arell."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping even lower. "Let's break this down. With your history with Reese, you'd be the prime suspect if anything happens to him."
Arell felt a chill run down his spine as Geoffrey continued. "If Reese ends up dead, the authorities will start with those who have a known history with him. You'd be at the top of that list. They'd look into your bank records, your recent purchases—everything. They'll dig deep, trying to find any link that ties you to the crime. They could even subpoena your financial records, looking for any suspicious transactions."
Geoffrey's eyes narrowed slightly. "Plus, there's forensic evidence to consider. Gunshot residue, fingerprints, fibers, any of that could potentially tie you to the crime, and without my help you or one of the others certainly will slip up, somehow, someway."
Arell's mind raced, the reality of their situation sinking in deeper with each word. He hadn't fully considered the legal minefield they were navigating.
"So, what you're saying is, we're screwed if this escalates?" Arell asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Geoffrey shook his head slightly. "Not screwed, but in a very delicate position."
As the announcement for a flight began to play over the loudspeakers, Arell found himself longing for simpler times. The weight of leadership, of making decisions that affected not just him but everyone around him, felt heavier than ever.
"You know," Arell said, a hint of weariness in his voice, "sometimes I wonder if all this was worth it. The money, the fame... it just seems to bring more problems."
Geoffrey's expression softened slightly, a rare show of emotion. "That's often the price of success, Arell. But remember why you started this journey. It wasn't just about the money or the fame. It was about making a better life, for you and for others, to amplify your own voice. We just need to be smart about how we use that voice now."
Arell took a deep breath, letting Geoffrey's words sink in. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he tried to focus on the bigger picture. He gave Geoffrey a small nod, a sign that he was trying to take his advice to heart.
"Thanks," Arell said quietly. "I needed that."
Geoffrey nodded back. "Anytime. Now let's get going. Our Uber's here."
They made their way to the designated pickup area, where a black SUV awaited them. The driver, a middle-aged man with a kind face and a hint of grey in his hair, greeted them with a smile. "Morning, gentlemen. Where to?"
"The Breakfast Club studio," Geoffrey replied as they settled into the back seat.
As they pulled out of the airport, the driver glanced at Arell in the rearview mirror. "You heading to do an interview?"
"Yeah," Arell said, leaning back in his seat.
The driver nodded, a spark of recognition in his eyes. "You look familiar. You in the music business?"
Arell smiled slightly. "Yeah, I make music. Name's Arell."
The driver's face lit up. "My kids listen to a lot of rap. I think I've heard your name before. What kind of music do you make?"
"Rap, mostly," Arell replied. "You can find my stuff online. Just search for Arell Rose."
The driver nodded enthusiastically. "I'll definitely check it out. You know, music's a powerful thing. Can change lives."
"Yeah, it can," Arell agreed, a hint of pride in his voice.
The driver continued, his tone more reflective. "You know, I used to be in a pretty bad place, and music helped me out alot. Made some poor choices, got into trouble. But I turned things around. Met a good woman, started a family. Now I drive this Uber to make an honest living."
Arell looked at the driver with interest. "What kind of trouble, if you don't mind me asking?"
The driver sighed, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror to meet Arell's gaze. "I was mixed up with the wrong crowd, got into some petty crimes. Nothing too serious, but enough to mess up my life for a while. It wasn't until I met my wife that I realized I needed to change."
Geoffrey watched on in amusement, clearly understanding the lesson being shared, but he remained silent, letting Arell engage.
"What made you finally decide to change?" Arell asked, genuinely curious.
The driver smiled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "It was my wife, really. She saw something in me that I didn't see in myself. She believed in me, and that made me want to be better. I remember one night, after a particularly bad day, she sat me down and told me that I had a choice. I could keep going down the path I was on, or I could make something of myself. It was tough, but I chose to turn my life around for her, for us."
Arell nodded, absorbing the story. "That's deep, man. It's good to have someone like that in your life."
The driver glanced back at him. "Yeah, it is. And you know what? It wasn't easy. I had to cut ties with some old friends, make new ones who supported my new path. It was like starting over, but it was worth it. Now, I get to see my kids grow up, and I'm there for them in ways my old man wasn't for me."
Arell was silent for a moment, reflecting on the story. "Do you ever miss it? The old life, I mean?"
The driver chuckled. "Sometimes, when things get tough, I think about it. But then I remember why I left it behind. The peace I have now, the stability—it's worth more than any of the thrills I had back then."
Geoffrey leaned in slightly, his eyes twinkling with a knowing look. "It's about making the right choices, Arell. Just like this man did."
The driver nodded. "That's right. Life's all about choices. You make the wrong ones, you end up in a bad place. But make the right ones, and you can turn things around."
Arell glanced at Geoffrey, then back at the driver. "Thanks for sharing that. It's something I needed to hear."
The driver smiled warmly. "Anytime, young man. And remember, it's never too late to change your path. Just gotta make the right choices."
As they neared The Breakfast Club studio, the driver looked back one more time. "Here we are. Good luck with your interview, Arell. I'll be sure to check out your music."
"Thanks, man," Arell said, handing the driver a generous tip. "And thanks for the story."
The driver waved as they got out of the SUV. "Take care."
As they walked towards the studio entrance, Arell felt a sense of calm settle over him. The conversation with the driver had given him a new perspective. He glanced at Geoffrey, who was watching him with a hint of amusement.
"You set that up, didn't you?" Arell asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Geoffrey shrugged. "I actually didn't, sometimes life sets things up for you. You just have to be willing to listen."
Arell chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, I guess I was meant to hear that."
As Arell and Geoffrey stepped into The Breakfast Club studio, the energy shifted. The bustling atmosphere of staff preparing for the day's broadcast enveloped them.
"Good morning," Geoffrey said, shaking hands with the studio manager. "I'm Geoffrey, Arell's manager. We're here for the 8 AM slot."
The studio manager, a woman with a clipboard and a headset, nodded briskly. "Perfect timing. You've got about 20 minutes before you're on. Feel free to use the green room to prepare."
As they settled into the plush couches of the green room, Geoffrey leaned in, his voice low and focused. "Alright, Arell, let's go over your talking points one more time. Remember what Janelle suggested for generating buzz."
Arell nodded, recalling his PR assistant's advice.
"Yeah, I got it," Arell said, ticking off points on his fingers. "Talk about Kendrick's new album 'To Pimp a Butterfly,' maybe hint at collabs I've got coming up with other artist. Janelle said to keep it positive but mysterious, right? Oh, and mention where I've gotten my influence from."
Geoffrey nodded approvingly. "Good. And don't forget to touch on Drake's surprise mixtape from last month. People are still buzzing about that."
Arell leaned back, his mind shifting to the information Kamilah, had provided about The Breakfast Club hosts.
"So, Charlamagne's the one I need to watch out for, right?" Arell asked. "Kamilah said he's known for being confrontational."
Geoffrey nodded. "He might try to bait you into saying something controversial. Remember, stay calm and redirect if he pushes too hard. Angela Yee is likely to ask about your personal life, maybe relationships. And DJ Envy will probably focus on your music and come-up story, now go sit down and wait until their ready."
<>
As Arell entered the studio, the hosts of The Breakfast Club - Charlamagne Tha God, Angela Yee, and DJ Envy - were already seated, their headphones on and microphones ready.
Charlamagne gestured towards an empty seat. "Arell, my man, have a seat right here."
Arell nodded, trying to keep his nerves in check as he sat down and put on the headphones.
Charlamagne leaned into his mic. "Alright, y'all, we've got a special guest with us today. For those who don't know, which is probably many of you, this is Arell Rose, a rapper who's been making waves lately, particularly due to his beef with Lil Reese."
He paused for effect before continuing, "Now, for those who aren't familiar, Lil Reese is a Chicago rapper, part of Chief Keef's crew. He's known for his drill music and, well, let's say he's got a bit of a reputation."
Angela Yee jumped in, her voice warm and welcoming. "Arell, welcome to The Breakfast Club. How are you doing this morning?"
Arell cleared his throat, his voice a little shaky. "I'm good, thanks for having me. It's been a crazy few days, but I'm feeling good."
DJ Envy chimed in, "Is this your first time in New York?"
Arell nodded, visibly relaxing a bit. "Yeah, man. First time here. A bit different from Atlanta"
"Speaking of Atlanta," Angela said, "I hear you're settling down there. How's that been?"
Arell's face lit up. "Yeah, actually, I'm in the process of getting my first house out there. It's pretty cool, man."
Charlamagne leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know they got a lot of guns in Georgia, right? You ready for that?"
Arell chuckled, his nervousness slowly fading. "Man, I'm from Chicago. I'm used to it. Might feel safer in Atlanta, to be honest."
The hosts laughed, and Charlamagne nodded appreciatively at the quip.
"So, how long are you in town for?" DJ Envy asked.
"Not long, unfortunately," Arell replied. "I'm heading out tonight. Got to make it to SXSW."
"Oh, you performing at South by Southwest?" Angela asked, her interest piqued.
Arell nodded, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Yeah, first time. I'm hyped about it. Heard it's a crazy experience."
Charlamagne leaned forward, a glint in his eye. "Alright, forget all that, let's get into it. This beef with Lil Reese, what's really going on there?"
Arell's demeanor shifted slightly, his guard visibly going up. "Look, man, I don't even know why it's really happening. It's just some misunderstandings that got blown out of proportion."
Charlamagne pressed on, "See, that's not what I heard. From what I hear, it's because you snitched on Reese. That true?"
Arell's eyes darted to the window where Geoffrey stood outside the room. He took a deep breath before responding, "Nah, man. That's not true at all. There's nothing to snitch about, I'm out of jail and far from Chicago. It's just rumours and people trying to stir up drama."
"But come on," Charlamagne persisted, "You gotta admit, this beef is what put you on the map. Lil Reese is basically the reason for your success right now, isn't he?"
Arell's jaw tightened, clearly insulted by the insinuation. "Hold up. That's not fair at all. I've been grinding, putting in that work. My success comes from my talent and hard work, not from any beef."
"Yeah?" Charlamagne challenged, "Because I listened to your music, and honestly? I think you're decent at best."
The tension in the room was palpable. Arell leaned forward, his voice steady but with an edge of frustration. "Look, everyone's entitled to their opinion. But I know what I'm capable of. My next track? It's gonna blow everything I've done before out of the water. Just wait and see."
Angela, sensing the growing tension, tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground. "Tell us more about this upcoming track, Arell. What can fans expect?"
Arell took a moment to compose himself before responding. "It's something different, you know? I'm pushing myself, exploring new sounds. It's gonna show everyone what I'm really about, beyond all this drama and beef talk."
Charlamagne, however, wasn't done. "But can you really make it without the beef? Seems like that's your main selling point right now."
Arell's eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his composure. "Look, man, beef might get people talking, but it's the music that keeps them listening. I got plenty more to offer."
"Alright, we'll see," Charlamagne said, not backing down. "But let's talk about something else. You a basketball fan, right?"
Arell's face brightened. "Yeah, big-time. I'm all about the Warriors."
Angela smiled. "So, what do you think about their chances in the playoffs this year?"
Arell leaned back, clearly more relaxed talking about basketball. "Oh, we got this. Curry's been on fire, and with Klay back, I think we got a real shot at the championship."
DJ Envy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and you think you can hoop?"
Arell chuckled. "Yeah, man. I can hold my own. In high school, I was putting up numbers. Averaged 14 points or so a game, a few assists, and rebounds. But you know, life took me down a different path."
Charlamagne smirked. "That's decent stats, but how good are we talking?"
Arell leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "I was good enough to get scouted. Had a few stars to my name. But my boy Kenny, he was the real star. He was NBA-bound."
"What happened?" Angela asked, genuinely curious.
Arell's expression darkened slightly. "We got caught up in some bad stuff, ended up doing time. It derailed a lot of dreams. But we're out here now, trying to make the most of it."
Charlamagne nodded, a rare look of understanding crossing his face. "That's real. So, any college ball possibilities now?"
Arell shook his head. "Nah, I'm deep in the music game now. But I still play when I can. It's good for the soul, you know?"
Charlamagne leaned forward, his interest piqued. "So, what about your boy Kenny? He in college now, trying to make that NBA dream happen?"
Arell shook his head, a hint of regret in his voice. "Nah, man. When we got released from prison, we didn't have the money to even think about college. But now..." He paused, a small smile forming. "Now that I've got some cash, if that's what Kenny wants, I could pay the tuition for him. No hesitation."
"That's real," DJ Envy nodded approvingly. "What kind of player was Kenny back in the high school?"
Arell's eyes lit up as he reminisced. "Man, Kenny was something else. He was like a three-way threat, you know? He has the worst jump shot but he could shoot from anywhere, got different type handles, and could leap like nobody's business. Picture a mix of Steph's shooting, Kyrie's handles, and Lebron's athleticism. That's Kenny."
"Damn," Charlamagne whistled. "And what about you? What was your game like?"
Arell chuckled, shaking his head. "Me? I was scrawny as hell back then. But I could hit a three for days. That was my thing. I wasn't the fastest or the strongest, but put me behind that arc, and I was money."
Charlamagne eyed Arell up and down. "Well, you ain't looking too scrawny now. You been hitting the gym or what?"
Arell nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Yeah, man. Been working out, eating good. In prison I wasn't really all that into fitness, it was more after I got out, and now I look good."
Angela leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Speaking of looks, Arell, have you ever considered modeling?"
Arell blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Modeling? Me? Nah, I never really thought about it. Why you ask?"
The hosts exchanged knowing glances. DJ Envy chimed in, "Man, you got the looks for it. Tall, fit, good bone structure. You could definitely do some fashion shoots."
Arell felt a warmth creep up his neck. "I appreciate that, but I think I'll stick to music for now."
Charlamagne grinned mischievously. "I bet the ladies are all over you though, right? Good looking rapper, got some money now..."
Arell shifted in his seat, clearly a bit uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I mean, yeah, there's attention. But I try to stay focused on the music, you know?"
Angela, sensing Arell's discomfort, steered the conversation in a different direction. "Let's talk about your music influences. Who's your favourite rapper right now?"
Arell's face lit up, grateful for the change of topic. "A$AP Rocky, hands down. His style, his versatility, the way he pushes boundaries, I respect all of that. Plus," Arell's voice softened slightly, "his music really helped me get through some tough times in jail."
The studio fell silent for a moment, the weight of Arell's words hanging in the air.
DJ Envy broke the silence. "That's powerful, man. Music can really be a lifeline sometimes."
Arell nodded, his eyes distant. "Yeah, it really can be."
Charlamagne leaned forward, his tone more serious now. "Speaking of serious topics, what are your thoughts on the Black Lives Matter movement? As a young Black man who's been through the system, I'm sure you've got some strong opinions."
Arell took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "It's a complex issue, man. But at its core, it's about equality and justice. I've seen firsthand how the system can be stacked against us. But I've also seen good people working to make a change. It's not black and white, you know?"
Angela nodded encouragingly. "That's a very mature perspective. How do you think it has affected you?"
Arell leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. "You know, it's complicated. I've had subtle racism shown towards me, the kind that doesn't make headlines but chips away at you day by day. But I've also seen how some people in our community use the race card to their advantage, which doesn't help anyone in the long run."
Charlamagne nodded vigorously, his eyes lighting up. "Man, I'm glad you said that. It's something we don't talk about enough. It's like, we're so busy pointing fingers that we don't look at ourselves sometimes."
The studio fell into a contemplative silence for a moment, the weight of the topic hanging in the air. Arell could feel the tension, the unspoken agreement that they were treading on sensitive ground.
DJ Envy cleared his throat, steering the conversation in a new direction. "So, Arell, there's been some talk about you being an industry plant. What's the real story? What made you start making music?"
Arell felt his heart rate quicken. The real reason he started rapping was because the system practically forced him to, but he couldn't tell them that. He fell silent, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words.
In the quiet of his thoughts, Arell remembered those first days after getting out, the feeling of having nothing and no one to turn to. The system, music, had been his lifeline, his way of making sense of the world and his place in it. He thought about the first time he realized he had a talent for it, despite the rewards from the system creating the foundations and giving him substantial boost, a lot of his improvements came about from his own work and his own application of his skills.
"I started because I had nothing else," Arell finally said, his voice low and intense. "After... after some tough times, music was the only thing that made sense. I found out I was good at it, and it just took off from there."
Angela leaned in, her eyes soft with understanding. "But did you have help getting into the industry? There's been talk..."
Arell chuckled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Man, the only help I had was my friends and my cousin Geoffrey. He's my manager now, but back then he was just the smart one who knew how to do everything, you know? Good with law, business, marketing all that stuff. But industry plant? Nah, that ain't me."
Charlamagne raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "So how'd you get your start then? You just woke up one day and decided to be a rapper?"
Arell laughed, shaking his head. "Nothing that glamorous, man. I dropped a freestyle, paid a few blogs to post it, you know how it is. Then I got a home studio in my apartment, and I made my first real song there and it just... it took off. Sometimes you get lucky, you know?"
Charlamagne hummed. "So moving on from that, Arell, word on the street is you just signed with Atlantic Records and Puma. How'd that come about?"
Arell nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Yeah, man. It's been a wild ride. Atlantic reached out, and we had a meeting with some of their execs. They really believed in my vision, you know? And Puma, they saw the buzz I was generating and wanted to be part of it."
DJ Envy chimed in, "That's a big move for a new artist. How'd you land such good deals?"
Arell chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Man, I gotta give credit to my cousin Geoffrey. He's a beast when it comes to negotiations. We went in prepared, knew our worth, and didn't settle for less. The execs saw the potential, and we made it work."
Charlamagne nodded approvingly. "Smart move. Reminds me of how Kendrick Lamar got his deal with Interscope back in 2012. Sometimes you gotta know your value and stick to it."
Angela smiled, leaning in. "Let's talk about your brand, Infinity. What's the story behind that?"
Arell's eyes lit up. "Infinity, man, it's more than just a brand. It's a mindset, you know? It's about pushing boundaries, always striving for more. Whether it's in music, fashion, or life in general, Infinity and beyond, as they say."
The hosts exchanged impressed glances. DJ Envy grinned, "Looks like we got a businessman on our hands, not just a rapper."
Charlamagne couldn't resist a playful jab. "Just don't let it go to your head, young blood. We've seen plenty of rappers think they're the next P. Diddy."
The studio erupted in laughter, Arell included. "Nah, man," he chuckled, "I'm just trying to make good music and maybe look fly while doing it."
The hosts nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. As the conversation flowed on, touching on his upcoming projects and collaborations and other topics, Arell felt himself relax. He'd navigated the minefield of questions, managed to tell his truth without revealing too much.
As the interview wound down, after an hour of back and forth, Charlamagne leaned back in his chair, a rare look of approval on his face. "You know what, Arell? You're alright. You got more depth than I expected."
Arell grinned, feeling a surge of pride. "Thanks, man. I appreciate that."
"I gotta admit, I came in here expecting another rapper with nothing to them. But man, I can see the potential in you. I'm actually looking forward to that mixtape now."
Arell felt a surge of pride at the compliment, especially coming from someone as notoriously hard to impress as Charlamagne. He glanced at the studio window, where Geoffrey stood watching. An idea struck him.
"Hey, you know what?" Arell said, a glint of excitement in his eye. "I got something I think y'all might want to hear."
He signaled to Geoffrey, who nodded and stepped into the studio. Arell turned to DJ Envy. "I've got a snippet of a new track called Fair Trade. Mind if we play about 20 seconds of it?"
DJ Envy's eyes lit up. "For real? Yeah, let's hear it!"
Geoffrey handed over a USB drive, and DJ Envy quickly set it up. The studio fell silent in anticipation as he pressed play.
The speakers came to life with a rich, layered beat. Smooth background vocals filled the room, creating an atmospheric backdrop. Then Arell's voice cut through, his flow confident and measured.
As the 20-second snippet faded out, the studio erupted in excitement. Angela Yee was nodding her head, clearly feeling the rhythm. DJ Envy had a broad grin on his face, already reaching for the replay button.
Charlamagne let out a low whistle. "Damn, Arell. That's some heat right there. That beat is crazy, and those lyrics. I been losing friends and finding peace, that's got soul."
Arell couldn't help but smile, feeling a mix of pride and relief. "That's just a taste," Arell said, his confidence growing. "The full track's gonna blow people away."
As the hosts continued to praise the snippet, peppering him with questions about the production and his writing process, Arell caught Geoffrey's eye. Who gave him a subtle nod of approval, and Arell felt a wave of gratitude. They'd come a long way from those early days of struggle, and moments like this made it all feel worth it.
The interview continued with renewed energy, the hosts now fully engaged and clearly seeing Arell in a new light. As they wrapped up, Arell couldn't help but feel like he'd just crossed a significant milestone. He'd come into The Breakfast Club as an up-and-coming rapper with something to prove, and he was leaving as an artist to watch.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
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