Part 1, Chapter 3

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Patience sat talking to herself in front of the large, lighted vanity mirror in the studio's green room as she pulled her hairbrush through her hair over and over.

"You're going to rip it all out," Vyola said to her.

Patience ignored the comment and continued her soliloquy.

"It's the same damn thing. Again! I mean - I can answer questions for myself. I've been answering questions since I could talk. As a matter of fact, I've been answering questions longer than they have because I'm two years older than they are!"

Jjenni tried to soothe her.

"It's okay, Patience. Vyola is the lead singer. She did really well. She named all the artists we all like."

Patience swiveled around on the chair to face Jjenni, her head whipping around ahead of her body. Vyola had often seen her do this and wondered how the woman did not give herself whiplash.

"She named all the artists we all like," Patience mocked her.

"Don't act so naïve, Jjeni. That's not the point and you know it. Lately, it's been nothing but Vyola, Vyola, Vyola."

"I'm standing right here, Patience," Vyola said.

Vyola leaned against the dressing table, looking down at the tops of her new leather boots. She was disappointed to see how scuffed they were already.

"You sure are!" Patience replied.

Vyola lifted her hands up and then put them back down, looking up to the ceiling and then back at Patience.

"What does that mean?" she asked, but Patience was on a roll.

"And Jjenni writes 'many' of our song lyrics? How about 'most' or 'all' of them? When was the last time you wrote anything?"

"Patience, please," Jjenni said, "I don't mind. That was totally accurate. We share credit, anyway. We all contribute. You both write the music. And you know it's not Vyola that you're mad at."

Patience's shoulders rose and fell with her anger. Just then, there was a knock at the door and it swung quickly open.

They all turned to look at the person who stepped inside. Patience pointed her long purple pinky nail right at her.

"Right you are J-J. Speak of the devil and she appears."

It was Mandi Mickel, their publicist and manager.

"Hi girls!" she said.

"What's up your butt?" she asked Patience.

Uh-oh. Here we go, thought Vyola.

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