Kharise is not a lover. The very thought of it is repulsive to her.
Mostly because she has had her heart broken in such a manner that seems irreparable.
Living in a world where her father shows her the littlest love known to mankind and her best fr...
Warning: This chapter contains a sexual scene, so if you don't want to see any of that, skip to the next chapter once you see this: ⚠ ⚠ . Read on.
Song for this chapter- Girls Want Girls by Drake ft. Lil Baby
*** LOGAN
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"The fuck does he think he is? " Michael's voice booms through the door of the recording studio and I begin to regret asking Earl to announce my latest achievement to all the other artistes a little bit. Just a little bit.
He moved me up to priority since my song hit number one on the chart. Hence, Michael got moved down. Oh well, you can't win all the time. Unless your name is Logan Dante Carson.
"He thinks he can just waltz in here, almost get me fired and then steal my spot? Huh?"
I almost laugh at the thought.
I turn the doorknob and open the door. "Well, you're right. I did waltz in here. But the firing part was all you, man. You were yelling at the boss, anyone would fire you for that. Plus, you know Earl has a short fuse." I say calmly, shutting the door behind me and walking over to the recording booth.
"Shut up Carson, this is all your fault. How'd you even make it to number 1 on the chart? That shit is probably rigged. " His facial expression almost has me choking with laughter. It looks like a bowl of gazpacho my aunt made once when I was little. And trust me, it wasn't pretty.
All I could think to say was- "Fix your face, Michelle." Brent burst into laughter before another stern yet somehow still hilarious look from Michael shuts him up.
"And to answer your question, I'm an artiste, Michelle. More of one than you'll ever be." I give Michael a once over, and a complementary smirk, before turning to Brent.
"When can I have this booth? I want to record. " He pulls out a tablet brushing his fingers across the screen. He raises his brows in surprise and then amusement.
"Oh damn. According to what I'm seeing here, you're a priority now, man. You can have it whenever you want. " I know what you're thinking. And yes, I'm awesome. I just wanted to make sure Michael got the info.
"Fucking hell, you're kidding, right?" Michael yells once more, hands balling into fists. And there's the gazpacho.
"Take your whining outside, Michelle. I'm about to record." I let out lazily, stepping into the booth.
"Fuck. " Brent laughs and so does everyone else in the studio. Well, everyone except Michael. He looks like he's about to annihilate me. Or take a shit.
I put on the headset and sit in front of the microphone, signalling Brent to start recording. He presses the button and the intro tunes of my latest song fills my ears. I close my eyes, reveling in the softness of the tunes, about to start singing when the music is abruptly stopped.
