after the split of the girl group, "aubrey's angels," rising star karianah hayes is thrust into the spotlight, navigating the challenges of becoming a solo artist. with tensions high and old friendships crumbling, karianah's world is turned upside d...
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9:29 am. 📍wicked storm entertainment studios.
The ladies all arrive at the newly revamped record label and studio, now known as Wicked Storm Entertainment, under the ownership of Lucian Samuels. The building, formerly Soulful Records, had transformed completely, and the ominous changes made the air feel heavier.
Karianah rubbed her temples as they approached the entrance, still feeling the exhaustion from the night before.
As the group reached the front doors, they were greeted by an unfamiliar presence—tall, stone-faced security guards. They exchanged a few uneasy glances.
"Seriously?" Camille scoffed as they were directed to walk through metal detectors. "This is unnecessary. It's a record label, not an airport."
"Better safe than sorry," Serayah muttered, trying to avoid Camille's complaining, her tone hinting at slight satisfaction with the new changes.
Karianah sighed heavily, her fatigue weighing down her every step. She had hoped for a quieter morning after the wildness of last night's release party, but it seemed that peace was far from reach. As she shuffled through the metal detector, the beep was followed by a cold hand gently patting her down. She shivered, trying to shake off the discomfort of it all.
"Well, this is... different," Ariel remarked with an edge of irritation, clearly not a fan of the early-morning call time. She hadn't even finished her first cup of coffee yet.
Summer, bleary-eyed and yawning, dragged her feet next to them. "I'm too tired for this shit. What time is it anyway?" she mumbled.
"Barely 9:30," Karianah responded, rubbing her eyes. She glanced at Mariah, who was walking slower than usual, her face pale. "Mariah, you okay?"
"Yeah," Mariah grumbled, wincing slightly. "Just... a little too much champagne last night. Thought I was celebrating, but now I'm regretting it." She squinted at the bright lights in the lobby, the sleek decor adding to her hangover.
Once they passed security, each of them was handed ID cards by a woman behind the desk who barely glanced up from her computer. The cards had their faces on them, each labeled Wicked Storm Entertainment - Artist Access.
"Great," Camille sighed dramatically, holding up her ID. "Now we're branded like fucking cows." She rolled her eyes.
Serayah nudged her lightly. "Well, we kind of asked for this when we signed on, didn't we?"
Karianah wasn't in the mood for any bickering, not after how tired she felt. The atmosphere in the studio was nothing like before. There was a coldness to it, an efficiency that stripped away the warmth they had known at Soulful Records. It felt more like a corporate office than a creative space.
She took in the sterile hallways, the glossy floors, and the stern-looking staff members walking briskly past them. Everything seemed controlled, almost militaristic. This wasn't the label they once loved. It was a new beast entirely.
