Sunday. 12:45PM.

After talking to LP about the townhouse, she agreed to go see it again; she wanted to visualize our lives there, according to her. I tried my best to convince her - even name dropping Blocka. She got excited about that.

"So let's call the landlord and set up a private walk-through," I smiled, jumping into the soft sheets of my bed. "This should be one of the first things we do."

I just really wanted that damn apartment.

Lauren sighed, sitting up. "I'll call tomorrow - it's Sunday." She picked up her phone, and was quiet for a few moments before speaking up again. "We should probably scout where the studios are today," she glanced over at me. "We have to start getting down to business."

I nodded, in total agreement with her. "After breakfast," I smiled, picking up the room service menu.

"Niykee, its past twelve - it's not breakfast time anymore," Lauren chuckled.

"What's your point?" I laughed. I continued to flip through the menu. "That's not stopping me. It's still morning in my book."


Sunday. 5:14PM.

Lauren held the door open for me as we walked through The Village recording studio doors. We had heard a lot of buzz about the privately owned studios, and I even did a session here a few months back when I was recording with Mat. From what I could remember, studio B would best suit me - it was smaller, more intimate. It's not like it would be anyone besides Lauren and I, and maybe a producer and an engineer anyway.

We walked to the front desk to the blonde receptionist, who glanced up at us when she sensed our presence. "Hello," she greeted warmly. "How can I help you today?"

"I wanted to get some information on booking studio time here," I started. "This is my manager, Lauren."

The blonde smiled at Lauren, nodding, then glanced back at me. "Are you the recording artist?" she asked.

I nodded. "My name's Niykee Heaton."

"I'll go grab someone to show you two around," she said before disappearing through a back door. Lauren and I weren't alone for long until she came back, a tall man dressed in black on her heels. The man stuck his hand out, smiling. "Hello, I'm Steve. I'm one of the coordinators here at The Village." I took his hand, shaking it; then it was Lauren's turn. "I hear you two would like a tour of the establishment."

Lauren nodded. "Yeah, we're looking to book some studio time here."

"I had a few sessions here a few months back with another artist, but I'm looking to book individual studio time - just want to know everything there is to know," I explained, following as Steve began to walk across the main lobby. He glanced back at us every few seconds to let us know he was listening to us; he seemed nice.

"Of course, girls, it's no problem at all. Let me show you two around," he gestured down the long hall.

It was about a half hour into the studio tour when I started to get antsy, and thanks to the million texts I received from Lauren complaining about her lack of food consumption today, I was starting to get hungry too. I followed Steve as he took us down another hall with about a dozen doors on each side; there were bright lightbulbs on top of each door, similar to the setting at Bad Boy. A few lights were green, but the majority were red; unoccupied.

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