Meeting

The soft morning light filtered through the hotel room's curtains, casting a warm glow over Arell and India as they lay tangled in the plush white sheets. India, already awake and bubbling with energy despite the early hour, held her phone above them, angling for the perfect selfie.

"Come on, babe," she coaxed, nudging Arell gently. "Just one more. This lighting is too good to waste."

Arell groaned playfully but obliged, pulling India closer and offering a sleepy smile to the camera. The shutter sound echoed in the quiet room, capturing the moment - their tousled hair, India's radiant smile, and Arell's contented expression.

"Perfect," India declared, scrolling through the photos.

Arell chuckled, his voice still rough with sleep. "You and your selfies. Don't you ever get tired of them?"

India rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Never. Speaking of which," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye, "what do you think of my old Insta pics?"

Arell's brow furrowed. "What about them? I haven't really seen them."

India's jaw dropped in mock disbelief. "You're telling me you haven't scrolled through my feed? Not even once?"

Before Arell could respond, India was already pulling up her Instagram profile, eagerly showing him a curated collection of her past posts. As they scrolled, Arell's expression shifted, his eyes widening at some of the more revealing photos. In one, India posed in a sheer top, clearly wearing nothing underneath. In another, she lounged by a pool, her bikini leaving little to the imagination.

Arell swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice neutral. "They're, uh... they're something."

India studied his face, picking up on his discomfort. "You don't like them?"

Arell hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "It's not that. They're beautiful. You're beautiful. It's just... maybe don't be naked or anything, you know?"

India nodded slowly, a small frown creasing her forehead.

A moment of silence stretched between them before India spoke again, her tone deceptively casual. "So, how many females text you?"

Arell shrugged, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "I don't know, not many. Why?"

"Let me see your phone then," India said, holding out her hand expectantly.

Arell raised an eyebrow. "Only if you let me see yours."

They exchanged phones, a tacit agreement passing between them. As India scrolled through Arell's messages, her eyebrows shot up. "Wow, you've got so many models in here. And you've never responded to any of them?"

Arell shook his head, his attention divided between India's reaction and the contents of her phone. "Nah, I don't really pay attention to that stuff."

India's eyes widened suddenly. "Wait, you have 400k followers already? And Miley Cyrus follows you? I thought you said there was nothing between you two?"

Arell shrugged, genuinely unfazed. "She likes me, that's all there is to it."

Meanwhile, Arell's stomach churned as he scrolled through India's messages. He noticed replies to several men, mostly famous ones, dating back to before they were official but when they were "floating around" each other. One message in particular caught his eye: "Let me see your feet." He felt a wave of discomfort wash over him.

"Hmm," he murmured, trying to keep his voice even.

India glanced up from his phone, catching the change in his demeanor. "What's wrong?"

Arell hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject. "It's just... some of these messages..."

India's cheeks flushed slightly. "People are just weird.."

Arell nodded slowly, but the unease lingered. He handed her phone back, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I guess so."

As India bustled about the room preparing for her day of filming, Arell's phone buzzed with a message from Geoffrey: "Business to take care of. Come back to the villa ASAP."

Arell sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Duty calls," he said, climbing out of bed. "Geoffrey needs me back at the villa."

India paused, a slight pout on her lips. "Already? I was hoping we could grab breakfast."

"Rain check?" Arell offered, pulling on his clothes from the night before. "I'll make it up to you, promise."

They shared a quick kiss goodbye before heading their separate ways. As Arell stepped out of the hotel, the Miami heat hit him like a wall. He spotted Cam and Rashad in their SUV across the parking lot and motioned for them to follow as he climbed into his own vehicle.

As he pulled up to the villa, the sight of Kenny and Malik playing one-on-one basketball outside brought a smile to his face.

Kenny moved slower than before, his movements careful and deliberate, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable. "Looking good, man!" Arell called out as he passed.

Inside, Geoffrey was waiting, his expression serious. "Kellman wants a meeting. Now. Something about changes to the marketing budget and a new studio budget for you."

Arell's brow furrowed. "Right now? What's so urgent?"

Geoffrey shrugged, already ushering Arell back towards the car. "Best not to keep them waiting."

The Atlantic Records building loomed before them, all glass and steel reaching towards the cloudless Miami sky. Inside, they were whisked up to a conference room that screamed corporate power.

Craig Kellman greeted them with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Arell, Geoffrey, glad you could make it on such short notice."

As they settled into plush leather chairs, Craig turned to Geoffrey. "We'll need that marketing plan. Why don't you grab it from my office? Second drawer on the left."

Geoffrey's brow rose, but instead of making a fuss he shot Arell a quick glance as if to say "Be Cautious".

Once Geoffrey had left the room, Craig's demeanor shifted subtly. He leaned in, his voice taking on a confidential tone. "Arell, we wanted to update you on some things. Important things. About your career, your future with us."

Arell nodded, a sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach, what the hell were these people trying to do?

Craig continued, his words carefully measured. "You're incredibly valued here, Arell. We see big things for you. But it's crucial that you have people working in your best interest. People you can trust completely."

Arell's guard went up immediately. "What are you getting at, Craig?"

Craig's expression turned sympathetic. "We've uncovered some... concerning information about Geoffrey. Things you need to know."

What followed was a barrage of accusations and supposed evidence. Claims that Geoffrey had been preventing "Fair Trade" from climbing higher on the Billboard charts. Allegations of financial mismanagement, with documents showing large sums of money being moved into various stocks and investments.

"He's been taking money from you, Arell," Craig said, his voice filled with false concern. "Look at these transfers."

The stock investments – that was all part of Geoffrey's strategy. They'd discussed it at length. But the Billboard chart manipulation... that didn't make sense. But he knew Geoffrey would never do that.

"There's more," Craig pressed on. "We've looked into Geoffrey's background. There are no childhood photos, no records of his early life besides a few degrees. It's like he didn't exist until a few months ago."

Arell almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all. Of course there were no childhood photos – Geoffrey hadn't had a childhood. Arell had created him just three months ago.

As Craig and the other executives continued their pitch, throwing around phrases like "your best interest" and "people you can trust," Arell remained silent, his mind whirling. What were these people trying to accomplish? Why this elaborate charade?

He thought back to the meeting Geoffrey had mentioned, about marketing budgets and studio time. This was clearly not that meeting. Something else was going on here, something that made Arell's skin crawl with unease.

"Arell?" Craig's voice cut through his thoughts. "I know this is a lot to take in. But we're here to help you. To protect you. You understand that, right?"

Arell met Craig's gaze, keeping his expression neutral. "Yeah, I understand. Thanks for bringing this to my attention. I'll need some time to process all of this."

Craig nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Of course. Take all the time you need. We're here for you, Arell. Remember that."

As if on cue, Geoffrey returned with the marketing plans.

As the meeting transitioned to its official purpose, Craig's demeanor shifted once again, all business now. "Arell, given your incredible success, we've decided to boost your marketing budget from 2 million to 5 million dollars. Additionally, we're granting you a 1 million dollar studio budget."

Geoffrey nodded approvingly, his face a mask of professional interest. Though he already knew the details, he played along perfectly, asking pointed questions about allocation and timelines.

Arell, still processing the earlier conversation, managed to contribute to the discussion, asking about promotional strategies and potential collaborations. The meeting concluded with handshakes and smiles, the earlier tension seemingly forgotten.

As Arell and Geoffrey left the building, Craig's office transformed. The executives who had been lurking in the background now stepped forward, their faces alight with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation.

Craig leaned back in his chair, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Well, gentlemen, I'd say that went rather well. Arell's been convinced, or at least shaken. We've planted the seeds of doubt."

Tom, the A&R executive, nodded eagerly. "He seemed receptive. A little quiet, but that's to be expected given the bombshell we dropped."

"Indeed," Craig mused. "We have him now. It's only a matter of time before we can do as we wish. The question is, how do we proceed?"

Julia, the head of marketing, leaned forward. "Is it time to introduce him to the world? To our-"

Craig shook his head, cutting her off, his expression now turning serious. "No, not yet. He's not ready for that level of... enlightenment. We need to ease him in, make sure he's fully under our control."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of their words hanging in the air.

"So what's our next move?" Tom asked, breaking the silence.

Craig's eyes gleamed with calculated intent. "Let's open up some more collaborations. Subtly get him in deeper. I'm thinking... Nicki Minaj."

Julia raised an eyebrow. "Nicki? You think he'll go for that?"

Craig chuckled darkly. "Oh, I'm sure he won't be able to resist. And Meek Mill won't care – we'll make sure of that. It's perfect, really. We get Arell further into our world, and we drive a wedge between him and that India girl."

The others nodded in agreement, their faces reflecting a mix of admiration for Craig's strategy and anticipation for what was to come.

"It's brilliant," Tom said. "We break him away from his support system, make him rely on us more and more. Before he knows it, he'll be in too deep to ever get out."

Craig stood, walking to the window that overlooked the sprawling city below. "Exactly. Arell Rose is going to be our greatest asset yet. He just doesn't know it yet, we may not have gotten complete control of those three… but atleast we'll get him."

The executives of Atlantic Records continued their plotting. In their minds, Arell was already theirs – a pawn in a game far larger and more dangerous than he could ever imagine.

Little did they know, however, that their carefully laid plans were built on a foundation of sand.

<>

As the SUV pulled away from the Atlantic Records building, Arell let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The tinted windows provided a shield from the outside world, allowing him to finally drop the composed facade he'd maintained throughout the meeting.

"Geoffrey," Arell began, his voice low, "we need to talk about what just happened in there."

Geoffrey nodded. "I'm all ears, Arell. Tell me everything."

For the next several minutes, Arell recounted the bizarre conversation that had taken place before Geoffrey's return to the room. He described the accusations against Geoffrey, the supposed evidence of financial mismanagement, and the attempts to sow seeds of doubt about Geoffrey's very existence.

As Arell spoke, Geoffrey's expression remained impassive, betraying no surprise or concern. When Arell finally finished, Geoffrey simply nodded, as if confirming something he'd long suspected.

"I expected this," Geoffrey said, his voice measured. "Their tactics are predictable, if not a bit crude."

Arell's brow furrowed. "You expected this…I'm not suprised."

Geoffrey's lips quirked in a small, knowing smile. "It's what I was designed to do. In fact, I had listening devices removed from the villa before you even arrived."

"Bugs?" Arell exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. "They bugged the villa?"

Geoffrey nodded solemnly. "Yes, listening devices. It's a common tactic in this industry, especially when dealing with rising stars they want to control."

Arell leaned back in his seat, feeling a wave of unease wash over him.

"Based on my predictions," Geoffrey continued, "we'll need to amp up security. I'll have the team I hired on constant watch around the villa."

Arell's mind raced, trying to process this new information. Then, a thought struck him. "Wait, the team you hired? Geoffrey, you wouldn't trust anyone in a situation like this, especially not people you've just met recently."

A hint of pride flashed in Geoffrey's eyes. "Very good, Arell. You're right to be skeptical. Tell me, what race are these security personnel?"

Arell thought back to the men…and women, he'd been with when he went to the beach "Black and Mexican, mostly."

Geoffrey nodded approvingly. "And where might I have encountered such individuals recently?"

Realization dawned on Arell's face. "The scrapyard? Are these the guys from the scrapyard?"

"Some of them," Geoffrey confirmed, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Arell nodded slowly, understanding the implications. These weren't just random security guards; these were individuals with experience in less-than-legal activities. The kind of people who knew how to handle dangerous situations.

"We'll also need to provide some protection for your girlfriend," Geoffrey added, smoothly changing the subject.

Arell perked up at the mention of India. "Speaking of which, you've never really told me what you think of her, Geoffrey."

Geoffrey paused for a moment, as if carefully choosing his words. "India isn't the worst choice you could make, Arell. I've looked into her background extensively. She fits well with your image and personality. However," he added, his tone becoming more serious, "if she ever cheats or does anything to jeopardize your career or well-being, I will inform you immediately."

Arell nodded, feeling both relief and lingering concern. "I would hope you would."

As they continued their drive back to the villa, Arell and Geoffrey delved deeper into the details of the meeting. They dissected every word, every gesture, trying to uncover the true motivations behind Atlantic's actions.

"They're clearly trying to isolate you," Geoffrey explained. "By attempting to discredit me, they hope to remove your strongest support system. It's a classic control tactic."

Arell shook his head in disbelief. "But why? What do they gain by controlling me like this, I'm not even signed to a 360 deal?"

Geoffrey's expression darkened. "Control is power, Arell. In this industry, having a malleable star under their thumb is incredibly valuable. They can shape your image, your music, your entire career to suit their needs without needing to own you."

As they pulled up to the villa, Arell felt a heavy weight on his shoulders.

"So what's our next move?" Arell asked as they stepped out of the SUV.

Geoffrey's eyes gleamed with determination. "We play their game, but on our terms. We'll appear to go along with their plans while quietly building our own power base. It's time to start making some… bigger- strategic moves of our own."

Geoffrey began walking off to the Villa. "First, we'll accept their increased marketing budget and studio deal. But we're setting the studio address to your Atlanta mansion."

Arell furrowed his brow. "But I already have a home studio. What exactly do you mean?"

A sly smile played on Geoffrey's lips. "It means a free million dollars."