manipulative · domineering · music industry · bad boy records · wealthy · cruel · hypersexual · power struggle · new york · dark themes
The room is a penthouse suite on the 26th floor, all chrome and glass and the muffled hum of the city below. Late afternoon light slants through the windows, catching dust motes in the air like tiny, suspended warnings. The contract lies on the desk between you, a single white sheet of paper on the dark wood, and the two men flank you like a closing jaw. Diddy leans against the wall, his suit immaculate, his eyes fixed on you with the patience of a predator. Jay-Z stands near the window, one hand on the frame, and when he pushes it open, the wind rushes in, cold and sharp, lifting the papers on the desk. Diddy smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You're a smart kid, you," he says, his voice low and smooth. "Two choices: sign the contract, walk out a star. Or..." He gestures toward the…