June

Arell lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with frustration. His body was tense, his fists still clenched as he replayed the events from earlier in the studio. He could hear India's soft breathing beside him, her presence grounding him, pulling him away from the swirling anger in his head. His chest still felt tight, that fire in his gut from Kanye's wild rant and the news of the diss not letting him settle down.

India, sensing his unrest, stirred beside him. She gently placed her hand on his chest, her fingers tracing slow, calming circles. "You're still mad about it, aren't you?" she asked softly, her voice cutting through the silence.

Arell sighed, running a hand over his face. "Yeah. That whole thing with Kanye… I wasn't expecting it. And now I gotta deal with Game talking about my kid?"

India's hand stilled, a flicker of anger crossing her face.

"It's like everyone's testing me right now." He sighed.

India propped herself up on one elbow, her expression softening as she leaned closer to him. "You're better than all of that."

He sighed again, her words sinking in, but the anger still sat heavy in his chest. "I hear you," he muttered, though he was still restless.

India smiled softly, moving closer to him. "How about we forget all that for a second?" She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I know something that'll take your mind off this."

Arell raised an eyebrow, his frustration wavering as he looked over at her. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

She grinned mischievously. "Bowling."

Arell blinked, caught off guard. "Bowling?"

"Yeah," India said, sitting up fully now, excitement in her voice. "I've never gone, but I wanna try it. Let's go bowling tomorrow."

Arell's lips tugged into a small smile despite himself. "Bowling? You sure about that?"

India shrugged, her smile widening. "Why not? It's fun, right? And we could both use a little fun right now."

He stared at her for a moment, feeling some of the tension in his body ease. "Alright," he said finally, nodding. "We'll go bowling."

India leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. "Good. Now try to get some sleep."

<>

Meanwhile, across town in LA, the club was buzzing with energy. Celebrities filled every corner of the dimly lit space, clinking glasses underscoring the heavy bass that thumped from the DJ booth. In the middle of it all, Rihanna and her crew held court, bottles popping, laughter spilling out as they took shots and danced to the music.

Rihanna's head was tilted back in laughter, her arm slung around her best friend as they clinked their glasses together. The DJ, sensing the shift in the crowd's mood, switched tracks, and the Afrobeat rhythm of Rihanna My Type pulsed through the speakers.

Rihanna's eyes widened in recognition, her lips curving into a grin. "Ayyo! This my shit!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the noise.

She swayed to the beat, mouthing along to the lyrics as they spilled out over the room:

"How can I stay low-key? Rihanna in my sight

Chains and whips, Fifty Shades kinda night...

Pullin' on hair, in the coupe, no roof

Fenty on her lips, she the truth..."

Her friend, still recording on her phone, laughed beside her. "You know this is about you, right?" she teased.

Rihanna winked at the camera, flipping her hair. "Yeah, I know. Arell knows what's up. This song's a vibe."

As the beat picked up, Rihanna and her girls threw their hands in the air, moving with the music. She was feeling it—lit, carefree, the night spinning around her in a blur of lights and sound. She took another shot, laughing as she leaned back into the crowd.

Her friend nudged her. "You know he's in LA, right? Arell?"

Rihanna raised an eyebrow, still swaying to the music. "For real? What's he doing out here?"

"He's probably gonna be at Pharrell's party tomorrow. You pulling up, right?"

Rihanna smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Of course. You know I love Pharrell. Guess I'll see what Arell's up to, too." She gave a sly grin, her eyes glinting with curiosity as the music pulsed around her.

<= >

Twitter

@Arell_Rose: Talk about my child and I'm not playing no games. No sneak dissing. Straight to it. 🚨

-

Almost instantly, the tweet exploded with likes and comments, the notifications piling up as fans and followers reacted.

-

@Tyga: Yo, what that red alarm for? 😂😂😂😂😂 Lame ass nigga

-

Without missing a beat, he clapped back.

-

@Arell_Rose: It's an Amber Alert, you know—the one that goes off when pedos like you come around. Stay in your lane, Tyga.

<= >

Arell arrived at Pharrell's party, scanning the room as he walked in, feeling the buzz in the air. He spotted Kendrick almost immediately, standing near the bar, sipping on a drink. As Arell made his way over, Kendrick noticed him and waved him over.

"What's good, bro?" Kendrick greeted, pulling him into a quick dap.

"Same old," Arell said, though he was still feeling the heat from everything that had been happening.

Kendrick gave him a knowing look, his eyes calm but sharp. "Man, I've been seeing the drama," he said, sipping his drink. "You gotta chill with all that."

Arell leaned back against the bar, shaking his head. "I don't know, man. They got me all kinds of heated."

Kendrick nodded, but his expression remained calm, almost detached. "I get it. Trust me, I do. But you can't let that heat of the moment stuff dictate how you move. You know how this game is. People are always gonna test you, say wild shit to get under your skin. But that's not where you win. You win by staying calculated, making moves they don't see coming."

Arell listened, letting Kendrick's words sink in. The advice made sense, but his frustration was still simmering beneath the surface.

Kendrick continued, his voice low but firm. "Look, you got a lot going for you. Your career's popping, your girl, your family, all that. Don't let these clowns take that from you. Sit back, calculate, look at who you're dealing with, and decide if it's even worth your time. But don't be hasty, don't announce your plans. Let them think they got you, then hit 'em when they least expect it."

Arell exhaled slowly, nodding. "Yeah, you right."

Kendrick clapped him on the shoulder, offering a rare smile. "Relax. Enjoy the party. Go love up on your girl, man. Life's too short to let this bullshit get to you."

Arell smirked, feeling the weight of Kendrick's words. "I'll try, man. Appreciate it."

Just as Kendrick finished speaking, Rihanna walked in, her presence impossible to ignore. She was dressed to kill, her aura commanding the room like it was her own personal stage. She spotted Kendrick and made her way over, flashing him a smile.

"Hey, Kendrick," Rihanna greeted, her voice smooth as ever. Her eyes shifted to Arell, and she offered him a smile too. "And you must be Arell."

"Yeah, that's me," Arell said, cautious but polite. He remembered Pharrell's warning about her.

"I've been hearing a lot about you," she said, tilting her head slightly. "You got some heat dropping soon?"

Arell nodded. "Yeah, mixtape coming soon."

Rihanna grinned. "I like that. But tell me—why didn't you release that song, 'Rihanna My Type'? It's a banger."

Arell chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not something I really wanted out there like that."

Rihanna raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Really? Why not? I mean, it's literally about me."

"Yeah, but it's one of those tracks that wasn't supposed to see the light of day," Arell said, keeping it light.

Rihanna smirked, sipping her drink. "Well, it's out now. Might as well own it."

Arell just laughed it off, not wanting to go deeper into that conversation. "We'll see," he said, dodging the topic with ease.

Rihanna studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough. But hey, when that mixtape drops, I wanna hear it. I know you got some serious heat. Maybe one day we'll make something together."

"We'll see," Arell repeated, smiling.

<= >

The Chicago air crackled as Kenny, returning to Chicago for the first time since…. Then, pushed through the glass doors of the Quest Multisport Complex. His heart drummed against his ribcage – not from nerves, but from raw anticipation.

The combine's first day had drawn a who's who of basketball royalty. Kenny spotted Pat Riley's slicked-back silver hair in the bleachers, Jerry West's stern profile a few rows up. NBA general managers huddled in corners, clipboards in hand, while scouts prowled the sidelines like hungry wolves.

John Winters from the Bucks caught his eye and offered a subtle nod. Kenny returned it, remembering their conversation about a potential second-round selection. But he wasn't here to settle for the second round. He was here to turn heads.

"Valery, you're up for measurements," called out a staff member in an NBA-branded polo.

Kenny followed him to the measurement station, where he stood straight-backed as they recorded his vitals. "Six-foot-two and a quarter," the measurer called out. "Six-foot-six wingspan." Kenny couldn't help but smile – his wingspan was nearly identical to Russell Westbrook's, another undersized guard who played bigger than his height.

The vertical jump test came next. Kenny watched as other prospects took their turns, some putting up impressive numbers. Quinn Cook, fresh off their G-League battles, cleared 36 inches. Not bad.

When Kenny's turn came, he rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, hearing Miles' voice in his head: "Show 'em what you got, young blood." He crouched, then exploded upward, his hand slapping the measurement vanes with a decisive crack.

"Forty-three inches!" the tester announced, his eyebrows shooting up. A murmur rippled through the assembled scouts. Kenny caught Winters grinning, already scribbling in his notebook.

The three-quarter court sprint followed. Kenny's time of 3.1 seconds drew more whispers – it was among the fastest ever recorded at the combine. Between tests, he caught fragments of conversation floating around him:

"Did you see that second jump?"

"Better burst than half the guards in the league right now..."

But the real test would come in the five-on-five scrimmages. Kenny laced up his shoes tight, the familiar pre-game tension settling into his muscles. He'd been assigned to the white team, alongside a mix of college stars and international prospects.

The game started fast, both teams trying to make immediate impressions. Kenny brought the ball up against a towering point guard from Kentucky, the guy's 6'5" frame casting a shadow over him. Kenny gave him a hesitation dribble, then burst left so quickly the defender's feet tangled. The lane opened up, but instead of taking the layup, Kenny spotted his teammate cutting baseline. No-look bounce pass, right on the money. Easy dunk.

"That's what I'm talking about!" came a voice from the sideline. Kenny glanced over to see Mark Cuban on his feet, talking animatedly to his staff.

The game continued at a breakneck pace. Kenny showed everything in his arsenal – the tight handle, the explosive first step, the court vision. When defenders sagged off, he knocked down threes. When they pressed up, he blew by them. One possession, he caught a bigger defender on a switch and went to work. Crossover, between the legs, behind the back, then a step-back three that got the whole gym buzzing.

During a timeout, Kenny wiped sweat from his brow and caught sight of John Winters in an intense discussion with the Bucks' GM. They both kept glancing his way, gesturing with increasing animation. Kenny allowed himself a small smile. The second round was starting to feel like a floor, not a ceiling.

"Kid plays like he's got steel springs in his legs," he heard someone say. "And did you see that recovery speed?"

When the final scrimage was completed and as Kenny headed for the locker room, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Winters.

"Hell of a showing, kid," the scout said, his voice low and serious. "But I'm going to be straight with you – we might need to adjust our plans."

Kenny raised an eyebrow, his heart rate picking up.

"That second-round talk?" Winters continued. "Forget it. After today, you won't last past the first. We're going to need to use our first round to get a shot at you."

Kenny nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral even as excitement surged through him. "I appreciate the honesty, sir."

"Keep this energy through the interviews tomorrow," Winters added. "But between you and me? You just made yourself a lot of money out there."

As Kenny walked to the locker room, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Miles: "Young blood, you trending on Twitter yet? Because what I'm hearing... sheesh. We got work to do tomorrow tho. Real hoopers know one day ain't enough."

<= >

Love & Hip Hop: New York - VH1 Studios

The fluorescent lights of the VH1 studio cast harsh shadows across Becalis's face as she squared up to Swift, her long nails drumming against her hip. The camera crew circled like vultures, hungry for drama.

"Listen, mama," Becalis said, her Bronx accent thick with attitude, "I ain't here for your little games. You wanna talk about what I got going on?"

Swift rolled her eyes, adjusting her designer purse. "Girl, please. Everyone knows you only got signed 'cause you poppin' it for everyone."

The words hung in the air for a split second before Becalis lunged forward, her face twisted with fury. Production assistants rushed to intervene, but not before Becalis got within inches of Swift's face.

"You don't know nothing about me or my life!" Becalis shouted, her voice echoing off the studio walls. "I been grinding since day one. You think this is a game?"

The producers were eating it up, their cameras capturing every moment of the confrontation. In the corner, Yandy Smith watched with interest, already plotting how to spin this for maximum effect.

"You ain't even got nothing out," Swift taunted, backing away slightly. "What you gonna show us? More Instagram videos?"

Becalis smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "Watch me. Rose ain't sign me for nothing. When I drop, it's over for you girls."

Later, in her confessional, Cardi leaned back in her chair, laughing about it all. "They always wanna test me," she said, crossing her arms. "But they don't know I'm about my business now. I'm signed, I got real money comin', and when I blow up, it's over for these hoes. Straight up."

Twitter

@TheShadeRoom: #LHHNY Tea! Becalis got into it with Swift at Club Lust last night! 👀 The newcomer ain't holding back!

@VH1: Things got HEATED between Becalis and Swift on #LHHNY! Catch the full episode tonight at 8/7c 🔥

@TheShadeRoom: Becalis speaks on her label situation with Infinity: "Arell believed in me when nobody else did. I'm bout to show y'all why." 🗣️ #LHHNY

<= >

Post Malone—Austin—was sitting in the studio, kicking back as Metro Boomin tinkered with the equipment. Arell sat beside them, eyes fixed on the NASCAR race playing on the mounted TV. Metro Boomin nodded along to a beat he was crafting, his fingers dancing across the keyboard.

"Ay bro, let's make something like that," Austin said, nodding toward the TV.

Arell blinked. "Like what?"

"Like that energy, bro," Austin said. "The speed, the intensity, that sense of winning. We should capture that in a track."

Metro smirked, leaning over to adjust some levels. "I'm feelin' that. What you thinkin'?"

Arell thought for a second, then he nodded. "Yeah, I got something. Pull up that beat from last week."

Metro brought up the track, the heavy bass rumbling through the speakers.

"My momma called, seen you on TV, son

Said shit done changed ever since we was on

I dreamed it all ever since I was young

They said I wouldn't be nothing

Now they always say congratulations

Worked so hard, forgot how to vacation

They ain't never had the dedication

People hatin', say we changed and look, we made it

Yeah, we made it…"

Metro played the rough cut back, nodding to the rhythm. "That's it. This gon' be a hit."

Arell leaned back in his chair, satisfied with the direction the track was going. "Yeah, this the one. Let's tighten it up and see where we can take it."

<= >

Twitter

@MeekMill: Your favorite rapper don't even write his own raps... how you calling yourself the greatest?

@MeekMill: Some of these industry niggas faker than WWE... can't even look in the mirror

@MeekMill: This game got too many fake nggas. Y'all know who I'm talking about 👀 Reference tracks everywhere

@MeekMill: How you gone be on my shit and not promote my track? You on your period pills?? 🤦

@MeekMill: Some of these new rappers need to stay in they place. Real street niggas vs internet gangstas 😤 They the type to have they girl talking to another nigga DL!!!

@RickRoss: These new rappers talking heavy but ain't built like us. We really lived what we rap about. MMG the real empire 💯 #BossUp

@Arell_Rose: @RickRoss You right. You lived that CO life in Cork County. I remember seeing you there 🤔

@RickRoss: @Arell_Rose Watch yourself kid. You playing a dangerous game.

@Arell_Rose: My bad officer, was just asking a question. Stay blessed 🙏 #PeaceAndLove

@50cent: 😂😂 @Arell_Rose got jokes. Rozay you gonna let him do you like that?

@djkhaled: THEY DON'T WANT PEACE! BUT WE THE BEST! 🔑 @MeekMill @Arell_Rose

@FrenchMontana: 😂This kid @Arell_Rose funny. Stay in ya lane youngin

@YFNLucci: @Arell_Rose really think he running something. Boy you ain't ready for this life 🤡

@PostMalone: Congratulations dropping soon 🏎️ @Arell_Rose x @MetroBoomin [Snippet plays: "My momma called..."]

@Drake: June looking spicy 🌶️ @Arell_Rose

@TheShadeRoom: Sources say multiple labels pushing their artists to diss Arell Rose! But why? 👀 Swipe for the tea! ☕️

@Pharrell: When you own your masters and your brand, you different. Salute to the young visionary @Arell_Rose 🌟

@50cent: These industry niggas big mad cause shorty own everything. I respect the hustle 💯

@chartdata: .@Arell_Rose becomes youngest artist to chart 3 singles simultaneously in Billboard TOP 10.

@chartdata: In three days…Wishing for One of a Kind expected to debut at #22 while Dreams Worth More Than Money eyes the #2 spot.

-

Instagram

@indialove: [Image: India and Arell at home, she's curled up reading a book while he works on beats, Ares sleeping between them]

Caption: Simple nights with my favorite people ❤️

Liked by arianagrande, pharell, drake and 143,892 others

-

@Love [Diddy]

"Instagram needs a dislike button🙄"

-

@postmalone: [Video: Post, Metro, and Arell in studio watching Nascar]

Caption: Congratulations otw 🏎️ @MetroBoomin @Arell_Rose

-

@GGnbayoungboy: [Image: Kentrell in studio]

Caption: They sleep on us but we gone wake em up 😈 #4KT #Infinity

-

@nickiminaj: [Image: Screenshot of Arell's Cork County tweet]

Caption: 😂

-

@champagnepapi: [Image: Indirect post of racing trophy]

Caption: Some trophies mean more than others 🏆 #YouKnowYouKnow

-

Instagram DMs

@GGnbayoungboy to @arell_rose:

Ay big bruh, say the word. Them boys playing too much. Whole gang ready whenever you say so 💯

@arell_rose to @GGnbayoungboy:

Appreciate you staying solid but we moving different. Focus on the music. Tour coming up, need you sharp when you get here. Let them talk.

@50cent to @arell_rose:

Young king, if you cooking up something for Officer Ricky, let me know. I got 16 bars ready whenever you need em. You moving smart though, proud of you 💯

@arell_rose to @50cent:

Respect. If it comes to that, you first on the call list.

<= >

Email Threads

From: atlantic.records@atlanticrecords.com

To: Geoffrey@infinityofficial.com

Subject: Urgent - Brand Partnership Concerns

Dear Mr. Rose and Management Team,

In light of recent social media activity, several of our partner brands have expressed serious concerns about potential reputation damage. While we understand the nature of hip-hop culture includes competitive dialogue, the recent exchanges with established artists pose significant risk to existing and potential brand partnerships.

Following our discussion regarding the potential response track to Meek Mill, we strongly advise against this course of action. Our market research indicates this could severely impact:

- Your upcoming sponsorship deals

- Radio play for your current singles

- Overall brand perception

We strongly advise against any response tracks or escalation of current situations.

Please confirm receipt and understanding of this advisory.

Best regards, Atlantic Records Brand Partnerships Team

<>

From: brand.management@puma.com

To: arell@infinityofficial.com

Subject: Partnership Status Update

Dear Arell,

While we've enjoyed our collaborative relationship, recent events have caused serious concern among our executive team. Our brand values center on positive competition and sportsmanship.

We're requesting an immediate cooling-off period regarding any industry conflicts. Failure to comply may result in contract review under Section 8.3 (Brand Image Protection).

Best regards, PUMA Global Partnerships

<>

From: geoffrey@infinityofficial.com

To: arell@infinityofficial.com

Subject: Partnership Updates & Strategy Review

Arell,

Quick situation update:

6 of 8 potential brand partners have pulled back negotiations

Sprite campaign on hold

They're doing us a favour, we're weeding out the unwanted

Red Bull remains committed

LV still interested

Tour partnerships still solid

Need to discuss Kenny and India's security detail upgrade

Call me when you can. 

<>

From: legal@roseglobalholding.com

To: arell@roseglobalholdings.com

CC: geoffrey@roseglobalholdings.com

Subject: Cease & Desist - Rick Ross

Arell,

Received C&D from Ross's legal team re: Cork County comments. Nothing serious - standard intimidation.

Our response options:

Ignore (recommended)

Counter with factual defense (documentation ready)

Public apology (not recommended)

Also, Dominique's hearing moved up. Looking positive.

Will keep you updated.

-Legal Team

<>

From: redbull@partnerships.com

To: geoffrey@infinityoffical.com

Subject: Expanded Partnership Proposal

Geoffrey,

Love what we're seeing from Arell. The authenticity resonates with our brand values. Would like to discuss:

Expanded racing presence

Gaming division collaboration

Energy drink signature line

Extreme sports integration

Call when convenient.

Best, Red Bull Global Partnerships

<>

@Arell_Rose: "FOREVERMUSIC"

<>

https://discord.gg/SJF2PQck