F.I.G.H.T. (Completed)

26 | Strike 3

A month ago the pair signed Nigerian-American singer songwriter, and producer WurlD, to their label. He's the first artist on their independent label. They hope to sign more people in the upcoming year.

"Odera," she says rolling the R using her give me sympathy voice. "You've never listened to the reference tracks that you sang and thought maybe I should use this record for myself? Remember when that reference track we recorded for another artist got leaked and people said they liked it more than the official one? This isn't out of the blue. People want you to put your own music out."

Odera sighs knowing she's not going to let up. "I'll think about it. You really serious about not putting your next album out for awhile?" He asks to change the subject.

"Yeah. I mean, I put my first two albums out a year apart and they both did way better than I could've ever anticipated. Both went number one, both sold tremendously, both had singles that charted. I deserve a break to figure out what I want to do next. I have a whole plan until then."

"What are we going to do tonight, Brain?" He asks referencing the show The Pinky and The Brain while rubbing his hands together. It's his way of asking her what's the plan.

"Same thing we do every night, Pinky... Try to take over the world!" She says making them both laugh. "Obviously, touring. I'm really trying to get the business part of my brand solidified. I have a lot of sponsorship and brand deals coming up. We set a goal for making 8 figures this year and to continue doing so from here on out. Investing, a lot of giving back, getting my foot in multiple streams of income to–"

Abella trails off and stops talking when something catches her eye. She can see through the glass window that the coach is in a heated argument with one of the kids. "Hold on," she tells her brother before getting up from the desk walking out of the office. As soon as she steps into the gym she can hear them yelling at each other back and forth. "Hey, what's going on here?" Abella asks walking forward.

"This boy–" the coach starts.

"Man, nothing," the teen interrupts. "Fuck this shit! I quit!" He throws something down then storms out.

"I'll handle it," Abella says to the coach before walking out of the building right behind the boy. "Hey! Hey!" She yells as they both walk across the parking lot becoming emerged into the Texas summer heat.

"What?" The boy says rudely before turning around to stop and look at Abella.

She steps towards him extending her hand. "I'm Abella. What's your name?"

The boy laughs. "You reopened this place giving a speech about it being for the kids and community yet you don't even know my name? I've been here since day one and ain't seen you around here nan time. It's been months." She lowers her hand realizing he has no intentions of shaking it.

"Touché. I haven't been here. I've been on tour, but now I'm here for the week trying to help. What's your name?" She asks extending her hand to him once again.

He looks at her hand finally introducing himself saying, "Tylon Slaughter, but everybody calls me TJ. I'ma a junior."

Abella looks at the dog tag around his neck that has the Tylenol logo on it. The necklace is familiar. "I think I knew your Dad. Is he tall and brown skin?"

"That's my Pops."

"Really? I used to have the biggest crush on him. What's he been up to?" She says with a small smile.

"He's in jail," he says wiping the smile off Abella's face quickly.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She crosses her arms over her chest pointing back at the gym. "You wanna tell me why you quit?"