𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲?

𝟓𝟐

Ariana's POV

"Can we please take a break?" I begged scooter.

Sadly, I had another studio day which meant another 14 hours of singing.

I was already 13 hours in but still.

My throat felt like I was swallowing glass.

"Fine. ONE break, five minutes tops." Thank god.

I took the headphone's off, grabbed my bottle of water and went to the restroom.

I sat on the floor, knees up to my chest, an immediately began to cry.

It hurts so bad.

I don't even think I'll be able to sing another verse let alone do it for one more hour.

I knew there was a date for when the album needed to be done but it's not even that serious.

"Yo, you good in there?" Mom knocked on the bathroom door.

I tried to respond but I couldn't.

My throat hurt too bad.

Not long after, she had entered the rest room and closed the door behind her.

"Hey, hey, hey... why are you crying, what's going on?" She asked, sitting down next to me and pulling me in her arms.

I just continued sobbing as she stroked my hair in an attempt to comfort me.

"Shhh, you're alright. It's gonna be okay." She whispered.

I only had four minutes left.

"Tell me what's the matter, mama."

I sniffled and sat up, pointing to my throat.

She had instantly gotten the hint.

"Okay, you get to my car and I'm gonna go talk to them, yes?"

I wiped away some of my tears and nodded my head.

"Alright, c'mon, get up." She stood up, holding her hands out for me to grab onto.

I grabbed onto her hands and pulled myself up.

I don't want her to get me in trouble but I cant sing anymore.

It hurts too much.

I know he said we're almost done with the album so I guess that's good.

But it shouldn't be at the cost of my throat being in this much pain.

Billie's POV

I walked into the recording room and saw five men talking amongst themselves.

"Yo, which one of you is scooter." I interrupted their conversation.

They all stopped and stared at me as if I were a spider on the wall.

"That's me." A man walked up to me.

Home boy think he tough?

Nah.

Let him lay a hand on me and see what happens.

"You do realize that your over-working a literal CHILD, right?"

"She's almost 18 and either way, what's it to you?"

"What's it to me? That's my daughter you bum ass hoe." I gritted through my teeth.

"Okay well her mother was the one who signed the contract so if you have any complaints we can take it to court."

THAT FUCKING WHORE.

THIS IS ACTUAL FUCKING CHILD LABOR.

"What record label is this?"

"Republic Records."

She signed to republic records. Big mistake.

"Owned by Sony?"

"Yep." Oh fuck.

The record labels owned by Sony treat their artist like slaves. LITERAL FUCKING SLAVES.

Tommy Mottola is the devil. Literally.

You mess with these guys, they can end your whole career and possibly kill you off by labeling it as an 'Accidental drug overdose' or whatnot.

I want to help Ariana. But these contracts are for life.

She clearly didn't read hers.

And I cant do anything about this.

"Since you're Ariana's mother, would you please tell her that her five minute break is over and to return to us please." He said in a snarky tone.

Fuck.

She has to do what they say by law otherwise she's as good as dead.

And everyone knows artists are worth way more when they're dead.

I don't know anyone who's finished an album in the span of damn near two days.

In this industry it's all about money.

It doesn't matter if the artist has talent or not. If they see you can make them big bucks, they'll do whatever it takes to keep that status.

My label is Interscope.

It's just as bad but thank fucking god I have such a supportive team.

Hell the artists owned by my label speaks for itself. Eminem, Blackpink, JuiceWrld and so on.

Juice was killed off because he didn't do what they wanted him to.

And everyone knows about the over-working labels do on k-pop groups.

Jah knows he's next. So he's doing what they tell him to.

I've been pretty free lately but I know my turn will come soon.

But I swear on my life I will do everything in my power to protect my daughter.

That's for damn sure.