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I stand there for a moment, not saying anything. Natalie's eyes are glued to me, waiting. Pressuring. The room feels like it's closing in — her scent, her body, the damn chain shining on my neck like a stamp of ownership. This whole thing done spun into something I wasn't ready for.
"I need time to think," I finally say, my voice calm but firm.
Natalie raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into something that isn't quite a smile. "Think?" she repeats, like the word disgusts her. "You think this is a fucking game, Y/N?"
I keep my cool, even though my heart is racing. "No, I don't think it's a game. But it feels like one. One I didn't ask to play in. You dropping all this on me... Scotty, Lemmy, you... it's all too much right now. I just need some time."
She stares at me for a long moment, then turns away, pacing. "You don't get a lot of time in this world, sweetheart," she says, her tone clipped. "You either take the bag or you end up begging for crumbs later."
"I'm not saying no," I clarify. "I'm just saying I need to breathe. I don't make choices like this when I'm hot in the head."
Natalie sighs, frustrated, but there's a flicker of something... maybe respect in her eyes. She walks back over, standing just a little too close. "Fine. You've got until tomorrow. But don't take too long, Y/N. Opportunities like this don't wait forever."
I nod once. "That's fair."
She leans in, her lips brushing my ear. "Just remember who's really in charge around here."
Then she steps back, unlocking the door and motioning toward it.
"You can go."
I walk out without saying anything else, head spinning, chest tight. Tomorrow. I got 'til tomorrow to decide if I'm selling my soul for a spot on this show... or walking away from everything I just started building.
And somewhere in the back of my mind... I know Scotty's not gonna take any of this well.
Scotty's in the kitchen, wearing a bonnet and a big t-shirt that says "DON'T TRY ME." She's sipping on some juice, scrolling her phone, but the moment she sees me walk in, her eyes narrow.
"Where you been?" she asks, not harsh — just suspicious.
I pause, rubbing the back of my neck. "Felt a little sick, so I went for some air. Walked around."
Scotty sets her phone down slow. "You ain't answer your texts. You always answer me."
I shrug. "Didn't feel like talking."
She squints at me like she's trying to read my thoughts. "You alright?" she asks. "You acting... different."
I force a small smile and head toward the hallway. "I'm fine. Just tired."
