“According to them, my name isn’t on the lease.”
“Oh, hell no.” Shane unbuckled his seat belt. “Let me go in here.”
“It’s fine, take me to the studio. I’m pretty sure that’s where Dex is.”
“You sure? Cause I’ll go in here and set that bitch on fire.”
“I’m sure.” Tyler wiped her face, removing her phone from her purse. She scrolled until she reached Carla’s name and clicked on her contact. The phone rung a couple of times before the call went to voicemail, prompting a grunt to escape her lips. Pressing Carla’s name again, Tyler waited for the phone to ring, and this time, she answered.
“Hellooooo.”
“Fuck the pleasantries,” Tyler snapped. “I’ve been calling you.”
“Whoa, is that how you talk to your aunt?” Carla taunted.
“Look, I’m not in the mood. Why is the doorman telling me I can’t get in my apartment?”
“Because it’s not your apartment.”
“Yes, the fuck it is. The money comes out of my account every month.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. That mouth,” Carla chuckled. “See, just like your mother, you think you know everything. You thought I was dumb, but ha. Joke's on your gullible ass. I knew you’d try this. I knew you’d try to grow big balls and act like you run shit, and I’d have to be the one to put you back in your place. The apartment belongs to Oakwood, and it was only yours as longas you were signed to the label. Your car, yeah, that belongs to Oakwood. You never changed the paperwork over to your name, and Darryl cosigned for it. Your accounts are frozen. You owe the label money for lawyers, missed concerts, photoshoots, stylists, the tour bus, and all types of other shit you and Dexter messed up. It’s going to take years to sort through it all, and by the time it’s over, you’ll be back on YouTube singing sad ass songs.”
“I’m going to-
“You’re not going to do shit, but crawl back to Darryl, beg for his forgiveness, and maybe he’ll let your slick mouth ass come back.”
“Y-y-you can’t do this.”
“Oh, but I can, and if you don’t believe me, hire a lawyer, but you might want to save the little bit of money you have to pay for your mother’s bill. Once those funds dry up, her ass is going to a low-budget government facility that won’t even remember her name,” Carla laughed before the call ended.
Tyler was in shock. It was the only way to describe the blank stare on her face. She couldn’t even cry because she always knew that Carla was a snake, but this... this was some shit that happened in movies. It wasn’t supposed to happen to her.
“What that stiff neck hoe say?” Shane questioned, peering at Tyler through the rearview mirror.
“They fucking played me,” she mumbled.
???
By the time Shane pulled up to the studio, Tyler felt like her head was about to explode. Dexter still wasn’t answering the phone, and with every second that passed, her anger intensified.Just like at her apartment, when the car stopped, she hopped out and slammed the door behind her. Tyler didn’t have to look hard for his truck because it was double-parked by the front door. The thought of him sitting in a studio spouting bullshit infuriated her. Without warning, Tyler swung her Birkin and knocked his side mirror off.
“Bastard,” she hissed, pulling the studio door open.
“Hey Ty! I didn’t know you had a session today,” the receptionist Brenda greeted, pressing the button to buzz her back. “It’s a full house. Rahlo and Czar just left, so I can have that studio cleaned in twenty minutes if you don’t mind waiting.”
“Hey girl. I don’t have a session tonight,” Tyler spoke, trying to keep her cool. “I wanted to check on Dex before I head home. What studio is he in?”
“Ummm, we have him in eight, but-
“Thank you.” Tyler waved, headed down the hall. She was tired and didn’t feel like having small talk. Brenda could talk her ass off, and the last thing Tyler wanted to do was get caught in a long-winded session.
Studio Eight was all the way in the back, and Tyler was low-key surprised Dex booked that one. He usually liked to be in One since it was by the door, because everyone had to walk past it. He loved for people to see him recording with a studio full of half-naked bitches and niggas. Most times, it was like a party, and he rarely got any work done.
Pushing the door open, Tyler was again shocked to see that the studio was empty. She just knew Dexter was in there living his best life while she was struggling to make sense of what was happening to her. Turning on her heels, she backed out of the room but paused when she heard voices from inside the booth.
“Damn, girl,” Dex grunted. “Ride this dick.”
Tyler’s heart plummeted.
