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***COLLINS AGNIMEL

- A scandal? You think this is the time to indulge? When we're one step away from reaching the stars?

- I didn't do anything.

- Go tell the press and we'll see if that's enough to shut it down. God, how many times have I told you to watch out when you're dealing with all those bitches? With all those vaginas on legs chasing you, you had to rape a 17 year old girl.

- (Slamming his fist down) DAMN I SAID I DIDN'T DO IT.

- You don't yell at me, I'm your father as well as your manager. It's my job to do all the work to get this across.

- Let people think what they want. I didn't do anything and this kid won't say otherwise in front of me.

- So you want to confront her? To create more scandal?

- Pff!!!

I get up from the chair completely tired of hearing this man yell incessantly.

- Collins you get your ass back in that chair.

- I've got work to do.

I slam the door behind me. I'm tired of all this drama. No sooner does one end than another begins. How long will I be subjected to the wickedness of men? Don't I have the right to a little respite? There are days when I just want to throw it all away. I love what I do. No, I love it. But I'm starting to get sick of everything around me. Everything I want

is just to do what I love and live my life the way I want to. I'm tired of people always telling me what to do and other people giving me a line to follow.

I didn't rape this girl. She approached me, asked for my autograph and I gave it to her. After that, basta. Now I'm accused of harassment and worse of rape. May God take my breath away the day I engage in such practices. I have always lived discreetly but people always try to get me out of hiding.

- Damn it!

I throw away the umpteenth ball of paper on which I was trying in vain to write a text. It will soon be three months that I can't copy anymore, that nothing comes to my mind. I'm out of order. I can't do anything anymore. But I have to come up with something. Maybe something new will silence this scandal. It could, but right now my brain is fried. I need inspiration.

I go down to my studio. My brother is there playing with the mixer.

- Give me a beat," I tell him.

I walk into the booth in front of the microphone. I stare at the headphones and take a deep breath. The music plays. Lemuel beckons me to go on but I have no introductory phrase. What am I going to talk about? Love? Yes, that's my general term. But what story exactly am I going to tell?

- Are you still not okay? my brother asks me.

- My brother asks. "No. Nothing comes to mind.

I join him on the other side and fall into the couch.

- It's been almost three months since you composed anything. You haven't updated your status on your different accounts either. People are asking you what's going on.

- I'm off, bro. I think it's the end of my career.

- Don't say that. Blues happen to everyone. So do the symptoms of a blank slate. Plus your latest hit is still going strong.

- The problem is not to release a sound now. The point is that I'm not inspired anymore. If I'm going to release a hit song in the next few months, I need to start writing now.

My father enters the studio with a bang. I gasp.

- I have organized a conference with the media, he announces to me. You must speak about this story. Your fans are waiting for that.

- I don't want to say anything about anything.

- It's like you don't give a shit about your career. Just three years of being a star and you already want to go back in the closet?

- Here we go again.

- I'm working my ass off to save your career and this is how you react? Anyway, I'll give you your schedule. Tonight you have an interview with a reporter right here in this house. Tomorrow afternoon you have a performance at La Cigale and from there you fly to Brazil. You have a video to shoot. Your fans want footage of your latest sound. So pack your suitcase now. Lemuel, do the same and prepare the staff.

He comes out the same way he went in, answering his cell phone. I look at my brother.

- Do you have something to say? I ask him.

- Yes, but I don't know if you will.

- Always say.

- I think you need a vacation.

I squint.

- For three months you've been overworked. Everything is coming at you and you can't even write a sentence. You need to be away from everyone for a while, to take a breath and take stock. You need to do some feedback on yourself. You will surely find a solution and inspiration again.

I sigh.

It's not such a bad idea.

- Dad would never want me to leave.

- Who said anything about asking his permission?

- An elopement?

- No, a vacation. You're the star and the boss. No one can stop you from doing what you want.

Seen from this angle, he's not wrong. But we'll see.

- I'll be in my room.

- I'll be in my room.

I slap his hand. In my room, I lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I'm in a bad place in my life and I don't know how to handle it. At least if I still had my gun I could easily shut them all up. But I lost that gun, my inspiration.

I turn on my player. Maybe listening to me will give me a boost. I sing along with the music. I've always had continuous inspiration. I have written thousands of lyrics that are now a hit everywhere. In three years, I have released two albums of 13 tracks each. I also have singles. I am very

I quickly made a name for myself with my hits. But now I'm already at the end of my rope. I love what I do but all I want now is to be left alone.

They knock on my bedroom door.

- I said I wanted to be left alone.

- It's me bro.

- Come on in.

Omar's coming in. He's one of my best friends. He manages my Facebook, Twitter and Instagram accounts.

- What's up bro?" he asks.

We clap our hands.

- CLEAR.

- You need to get moving because your accounts are dead. I'm trying to do posts to liven things up but people want to see you. They all want a video of their idol.

- Well, they'll have to wait again because I'm not in the mood for that.

He sits down in the chair in front of me.

- What's wrong with you? This isn't the first time you've been in the middle of a story. People create false stories about you all the time. You're used to it.

- But this is rape of a minor. Rape and harassment. And it's not just that. I don't know, I'm not myself anymore. I'm going to throw it all away.

- You need a break for a few weeks. Maybe a few months.

- Lemuel told me the same thing.

- Should I order you a jet?

- I'm still thinking about it.

- Okay. I'm downstairs with the others. We're getting ready for Brazil.

- Okay. [Clears throat]

I'm left alone again. Shitty life. I connect to the networks to see what is being said. I get a lot of comments but mostly insults. The web is divided. Some people don't believe anything this kid says, others believe her, and another group is waiting for my statement before making a decision. I throw my mobile away. Sleep will make me forget all this.

I am awakened by incessant calls. Who the hell could that be? I check and see that I have about 20 missed calls. Friends, show promoters, a lot of people. My father bursts into my room like a mill.

- Geez, is a little privacy too much to ask for?

- The journalist is there with her team. And as if everything that happened to us wasn't so serious, this kid had to announce to the whole world that she was pregnant. Congratulations son, you're going to be a father.

- I didn't touch her, damn it!

- Well right now all the evidence is against you. So get your ass up and get ready. You can tell the reporter anything you want. It'll go live on social media. You have ten minutes to get down.

He slams the door behind him. I swing everything I can get my hands on. I am fed up. More than fed up. I call my little brother.

- Rent the jet for now. I'm going back to the country for a bit.

- "Done."

I pack a good number of clothes in my suitcase. Enough to keep me away for a long time. I quickly take a shower. When I come out, Lemuel enters my room.

- If you're going to leave, it's now. Dad will be up in five minutes. Everything is ready downstairs.

- Okay. Take my suitcase out the back.

- Okay... Omar is already there with your car.

I get my bag with all my cameras and we leave. As I walk down the stairs, I see my father talking to the reporter. I sneak out the back door. I meet my brother and my best friend at the car.

- You have to go or he'll realize you helped me.

- Yeah, Omar agrees. Take care of yourself and call us when you get there.

- Without fail.

We tchek and they leave quickly. On board my car, I put my music at full volume. I still need motivation to go to the end of this runaway. At the end of ten minutes, my father begins to bombard me of calls and messages. I block him from everywhere. I need a vacation.

IVORY COAST***ABIDJAN

I arrive at a late hour at the Hotel Ivoire. I did not have time to book a room. So I go to the reception desk, my cap placed on my face to pass incognito. I don't want anyone to recognize me.

- Good evening, I would like a room.

The receptionist opened her mouth but was shocked when, by some magic, she recognized me.

- Oh my God, it's Collins. Oh my God!

- Keep it down, please. Avoid attracting attention.

- Sorry, col... sir. We had no notice of a celebrity visit. You would have been welcomed as you should have been.

- I don't want that. I want my stay here to be as discreet as possible. Treat me like a regular guest and please, during my stay, it will be Louis. No Collins.

- No Collins. The bellman will show you to our best suite.

- No, I just want a regular room with all the amenities.

- As you wish. I'll let the staff and manager know you're here.

- Okay.

She hands me the map to my room.

- Thank you!

- Uh... please, can I have your autograph. I'm begging you.

I look at her. She begs me with her eyes.

- Okay.

I sign his autograph in a book and follow the porter to my room on the second to last floor. He too asks me for an autograph for his girlfriend who would be a fan by reassuring me to tell her that I was just passing through the hotel. I give it to him with a tip. Once alone, I

warn my friends of my arrival. My father filled my messengers. I don't bother to read or listen. I just fall on the bed and blow.

Finally away from all the mess. I hope to return with solutions but more importantly new inspiration for my career.