Tough Love *COMPLETED*

1. I

"No, I don't plan to 'get on that' with him, Karilyn. Everything I do is for business purposes and it will never be anything more or less than that." Aya told her as she sat at a red light in the busy California streets. 

"Says the one who had like the abnormally huge crush on him when he first became famous. You even performed his song at the talent show. You know the upbeat one where he was dancing in the high school?" Karilyn snapped to remember what she was talking about.

"Run It? Okay, that was a phase. It's not a big deal anymore. I'm looking forward to working with him only because it'll be a better opportunity to get my name put out there." Aya denied her friend's claims, feeling as if there was no way she wouldn't be able to stay true to her word. She didn't have the time for anything that wasn't "rolling in the dough", as she preferred to say. Men were obstacles, hurdles, 10 foot tall walls that prevented her from crossing the border to what was really important in life. 

"Alright, Aya. If you ever call me and tell me that you're starting to catch feelings for his yellow ass, I don't wanna hear shit." Aya chuckled at Karilyn's remarks, shaking her head.

"I don't have time to catch feelings. Besides, he has a girlfriend," She insisted as she pulled into the parking lot of a tall building with glass windows and an unnecessary amount of floors. "Speaking of time, I'm out of it. I just pulled up to the studio, although this building is much larger than I expected. Anyways, I'm gonna have to let you go, baby." She parked and took her key out of the ignition, taking a sip of the coffee in her cupholder. 

"Alright, good luck. Love you, bitch. Muah." Karilyn blew her a kiss through the phone before the call ended. Taking a deep breath, Aya stared up at her fate before entering the glass doors. 

"I'm here for an appointment with Mr. Wilson." Aya told the receptionist, who seemed to not be paying much mind as she popped her gum. She gave her a long stare before sighing and pulling her keyboard closer to her.

"Name?" 

"Aya Weathers. Assistant in songwriting for Christopher Brown." She clarified the motive of her coming to the building.

"Another one of these bitches." The receptionist muttered. 

"I'm sorry, another one of these what?" Aya amplified her heightened eyebrow.

"Room 3C. As in on the 3rd level. Elevator's down the hall to the right of me." She avoided her question. Mumbling something inaudible, Aya followed her directions to the elevator. 

As she walked down the hallway of floor 3, she couldn't help but to notice the countless amount of stares she was receiving. 

"I'm not finna like it here. I can feel it in my ass." She whispered to herself as she located 3C. After getting confirmation to enter after she gave the door a light knock, she entered. Her eyes immediately landed on Chris, who was slumped over on the couch. He gave her an untraceable look, as if he were confused as to why she was there. She desisted from saying anything rude, because she knew how truculent she could be.

"Nice to see you made it, Ms. Weathers." Anthony gave her a slight grin and motioned for her to take the seat across from the coffee table that stood as the vertex of the three pieces of furniture in the area.

"Thank you for having me." She returned the favor with a smile of her own. Chris didn't avert his fixated gaze on her, but it didn't look like admiration. More like irritation. 

"Tony, who the hell is this bitch?" He finally released her from the tension he was trapping her in by turning his attention towards his manager.

"Watch that bitch word." She shook her head, pointing her finger.