𝐌𝐬. 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭

𝟏𝟔-𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑-𝐎𝐋𝐃 Quinn was a sight for sore eyes.

Her beauty, her confidence, and her brains were just the tip of the iceberg of how captivating she was.

But sadly, she captivated the wrong eyes.

Around the age of 11, Quinn had begun hanging around her older brother, Armani, and his friends a bit more often, primarily because she was still getting made fun of at school by her peers.

One day, her entire fifth-grade class was invited to Jessica's 11th birthday party but her.

And she knew.

All day on the Friday before the big event, everyone in the fifth-grade class was talking about it.

From what they were going to wear to the songs they were most excited to hear– they couldn't wait to have fun.

But for Quinn, she was going to be all alone, in her room, waiting for someone to give her at least an ounce of attention.

That night, Armani had seen Quinn entering their family home, balling her eyes out, so, like the big brother he was, he was going to do something about it.

Not the right thing, but who's judging?

"Who the fuck did it?! Tell me not and I'll kill 'em!" An outraged Armani stormed over to a teary-eyed Quinn, not knowing how to handle this positively.

Once Quinn had told him everything, he told her that she could tag along with him to an event he was going to be DJing at.

Once they arrived late Saturday evening at the backyard bash, Quinn's eyes were wide like a deer in headlights, becoming engulfed around people and activities no fifth grader should be witnessing.

Weed, alcohol, bodies grinding, tiny crop tops, sagging jeans– the whole nine.

But, Quinn didn't want to make a big deal out of things because this was the first time she was invited somewhere, she didn't even care that she didn't belong!

Armani, being the questionable adult figure that he is, decided to bring Quinn up to the turntable where he began to set up his laptop that held every track you could think of.

And that's where her passion started.

Some may argue that it was who and not what that made her get into DJing, producing, and engineering music, but Quinn could care less for the reason why.

All she knows is that she loved it.

And anyone who knew Quinn could tell you that she was good– a little too good.

By the time she was 16 years old, she was the best DJ in the city under Armani, getting booked left and right for parties and other events that would have every parent reeling at the thought of their child going.