❛WELCOME TO UPTOWN RECORDS.❜
━━ ANDRE HARRELL.
/
COME & TALK TO ME | CHAPTER ONE.
❝CONTRACTS, CONTRACTS.❞
' SEPT 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟐 '
[ NEW YORK, NEW YORK ]A pen had never felt heavier in Imani's hand. Its weight wasn't just physical—it carried the weight of her future, her fears, her dreams. A contract lay on the desk before her, crisp and pristine, while across from her sat Andre Harrell, founder of Uptown Records, and beside him, the sharp-eyed A&R exec who'd discovered her demo: Sean "Puffy" Combs.
This wasn't like the nerves she'd had before a final exam—this was bigger. This was life-changing.
"Imani," Andre said with calm confidence, "if you sign with us, I can promise you'll be taken care of. The world is going to hear your voice. You'll be a force no one can ignore."
His words echoed in her head like a mantra, but still, her eyes stayed fixed on the contract. On the pen.
Beside her, her older sister Eve sat composed, always the picture of poise. Imani had begged her to come along to New York, knowing their parents would never approve of this trip, let alone what she was about to do. Eve had come not just as support, but as the responsible chaperone, keeping a watchful eye for their family.
You're probably wondering how Imani ended up in the Uptown Records office, staring down a record deal from one of the hottest labels of the '90s. The truth? She was tired—tired of chasing a degree she wasn't passionate about, tired of trying to live up to a future that didn't feel like her own. After years of hesitation and a final push from Eve, she finally sent off the demo she'd recorded and tucked away for almost three years. Two labels had been on her radar: Uptown Records in New York, and LaFace Records in Atlanta.
LaFace, founded by L.A. Reid and Babyface, had already built a reputation with breakout acts like TLC, Outkast, and Toni Braxton. But they didn't bite. Said she "didn't fit the image." A line she'd come to detest.
But Uptown? Sean Combs heard her voice and didn't hesitate. Within a week, she was on a flight to New York to meet with him and the CEO himself.
Two hours later, after a surprisingly warm and inspiring meeting, here she was—with a contract in front of her, and her entire life on the brink of change.
"Imani, are you okay?" Eve's soft whisper brought her back to the present. Imani nodded slowly, still silent.
Sean leaned forward, his voice low but direct. "I can tell you're hesitant, and I don't blame you. But if you sign that contract, everything changes. You'll lose a lot of your privacy. You won't be able to just hang out with your friends like before. People will talk. Some will lie. Some will hate you for no reason at all. This industry can chew you up and spit you out if you're not ready for it."
Imani absorbed his words. They were raw but honest. She'd heard the stories—young women getting one hit and vanishing, swallowed by the machine. Labels turning cold the moment the spotlight faded.
Sean continued, "So the real question is... are you ready?"
Was she?
She looked down at the contract once more. The pen didn't feel quite as heavy now.
"I'm ready," she said, her voice steady, strong.
She signed.
Andre smiled, standing up to shake her hand. "Welcome to Uptown Records, Imani."
A grin broke across her face as she shook his hand. "Pleasure to be here."
She was already thinking about the producers she dreamed of working with—Teddy Riley, Jimmy Jam, Terry Lewis. She had ideas, a vision, a sound. And now, she had a chance.
Eve stood, smoothing her sleek pantsuit with practiced grace—looking every bit the businesswoman she was. Unlike Imani, whose outfit was more relaxed yet effortlessly eye-catching, Eve's presence demanded respect.
"Sean," Eve said firmly, "I trust you'll keep me updated on Imani's progress. And Mr. Harrell, I expect direct communication on all business matters moving forward."
"Of course," both men replied in unison.
Eve nodded, satisfied. Just then, a knock came at the door. A second later, it cracked open.
Two young men stepped in, dressed in matching black outfits and boots, their swagger unmistakable. One of them, the taller of the two, grinned and raised his hands in apology.
"My bad—I didn't know y'all had company," he said with a playful smirk that suggested he did know but didn't really care.
They were the embodiment of early '90s style—baggy pants, bold chains, confident energy. And the silver logo on their chains said it all: Jodeci.
Imani stood to greet them, her smile bright and welcoming. "Hi, I'm Imani." She extended a hand without hesitation.
"K-Ci," the slimmer one replied, taking her hand with ease. "So you're the new star everyone's been talkin' about. Welcome. And this here's my brother, JoJo."
Imani nodded toward JoJo. "Nice to meet you both. And this is my sister, Eve."
"Pleasure," Eve said with a cordial smile.
Jodeci was it—Uptown's hottest male group, with a debut album that had already set the charts on fire. Forever My Lady was everywhere, and comparisons to groups like Boyz II Men were frequent, but Jodeci had a grit and soul that was entirely their own.
"You guys' album is off the chain," Imani said, eyes lighting up. "X's We Share? So underrated."
K-Ci beamed. "Ayy, I should be sayin' that to you. Your demo's been floatin' all over the label. When I heard it, I was like, damn, she's got a voice."
Imani flushed. "Thank you."
JoJo glanced at Andre. "Hope we're not interrupting anything."
Andre shook his head. "No, we just wrapped up. Actually, now's a good time—Imani, I'm sure you wouldn't mind meeting some of the crew."
"I'd love that," she said.
K-Ci turned to Sean and Andre. "You cool if we show her around the studio?"
"No problem," Andre replied with a nod.
JoJo opened the door, holding it for the sisters. "After you."
As they stepped into the hallway, Imani felt something stir in her chest—a leap of faith, a spark of certainty. For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel uncertain or scared.
She felt ready.
