I woke up to a loud thump on the floor.

"Ughh." I heard a small voice groan. I turned my head to the other side of the dorm where Kelly was laying on her stomach, face into the carpet.

"You ok?" I ask through clear humor. The smile was wiped from my face when I looked at the time.

"Shit!" I jumped out of bed, and started rummaging through my clothes. My hair felt a mess on my head, I smelled like alcohol and pot and I still had on all my make up and clothes from last night.

Kelly made her way back on to her bed while I was having a panic attack throughout my room. It was 10 AM. I knew Mac's people would be here to pick me up at any minute.

"What's going on?" Kelly asked through a raspy voice. Her voice was nearly gone. My stomach sank as I remembered that my voice couldn't sound anything like hers today. Not today. Out of all days in the world, not today.

God plese.

"I have to meet with someone. I'll tell you later, just help me find something to wear." I responded without looking at Kelly twice. I grabbed my towel and ran to the bathroom to take the quickest shower I possibly could. Within minutes I was out and lotioned, back to smelling good, but my hair was unfixable. It settled on top of my head, a trashy half straight-half nappy puff.

When I got back into the room, Kelly had laid out some ripped jeans, a white tank top and a big plaid shirt with a pair of sunglasses. I smiled at her kindly and shoved everything on. I expected her to dress me in something completely different but this was better than I would do last minute.

I brushed my hair up into an obedient pony tail then wrapped it into a bun and slid the sunglasses right on top of my head.

"Make up." Kelly said, grabbing her kit.

Thank God she knew how to do it, cause I didn't. All I knew was eyeliner and lip gloss, I was good at that.

I sat at Kelly's desk, my phone in my hand, waiting to see the random number.

"Close your eyes." Kelly said. She hovered over me before I felt light brushes on my eyelids. She still smelled of alcohol and pot too. The party really left it's scent. I hoped I managed to bathe most of it off of me.

"Thanks, Kelly. I really appreciate it." I sighed, almost relieved. It was 10:45 AM and I was almost ready. I wish I had some time to drink some tea.

"Don't mention it." Her words were oddly separated as she focused on not messing up my make up.

I laughed when I realized I could relax. "Do you remember last night?" I asked.

She did a nervous chuckle. "Some parts but i'm guessing it went really well because I definitely saw Devin leave our dorm around 8 this morning."

My head spinned momentarily. Right. Devin sleptover.

"Oh, yea. Well that happened because you threw up and passed out. He drove us home." I reminded her.

"Sorry about that, really I am. But that still doesn't explain why he was in your bed. She childishly giggled.

I shrugged. "I actually don't know how that happened. I just remember suddenly being homesick. Guess I just wanted some comforting."

"Ahh." Her voice is suddenly sympathetic. I shrug it off and she continues.

"So did you guys do anything?" Kelly wiped the sides of my eyes, to even out the eyeliner she just applied.

"Uhm. No, I think you would have heard us. Plus, I wouldn't do that if you were in the room. That's type nasty."

"Open your eyes." She said.

I opened my eyes to her pinkish cheeks and freckles staring back at me." She backed away and looked at her work before telling me to close them again.

"You guys haven't done anything yet, but he's really cute and everyone on campus knows and loves him from what I've heard." She chirped.

I nodded my head as she got some red lipstick from off my desk. "Yea, that's exactly why I'm not getting involved. I know you don't believe that I really like someone back home, but I do, and I don't want to ruin that either. So Devin is just going to have to go find some next clueless freshman. Cause it ain't me."

My phone began to vibrate in my hand.

The number read "Albany, NY" with the same areacode as the school. I let it ring twice before picking up.

Kelly could sense that it was way more important than I let on.

"Hello." I played calm.

"Hello, is this Chanel Little?" A man with a deep voice was on the other line. I screamed inside. I was so nervous.

"Yea, this is Chanel."

"Alright, Mr. MacWayne has requested you to be picked up at The Ville Commons of Harvington University. I will be in front in about five minutes."

"Okay, i'll be there. Goodbye."

I hung up the phone grabbed my pillow and screamed, beating my legs on the floor. I stayed there a minute as Kelly looked at me, her eyes wide open and very confused.

"What is going on?" She asked.

I laughed. "I'll tell you when I get home okay? I promise."

I ran to the lounge downstairs. Quickly made some ginger tea, with honey and lime as mom taught me. Within a few minutes I got another call, saying my ride was here.

As I walked out of my building, the shiny silver cadillac almost glistened off the reflections of the glass doors.

"Wow." I breathed, my heart racing as I climbed into the front seat.

"Good morning, Ms. Littel. Ironically, my name is Big. How are you?" The fat bald dark man held out his hand. I shook it firmly and smiled.

"Good morning, Big. I love your name." I mentioned as I strapped in.

"Are we good to go?" He asked before pulling off.

"Yessir." I replied. The car drove so smooth, I wanted to stay in here forever. I took a few sips of my tea as Big told me how long he's been working as a driver and body guard for Mac. He was really friendly for a body guard, but i'm sure he could switch up any time he wanted.

"So, I don't know if you know but Mac has a few studios scattered upstate. Most of the time he is in Albany, so it's nice that you decided to go here, the other times though he is traveling to different parts of New York to work with other artists. Though you are the first girl he's been interested in for at least 3 years. You must have something special."

"I really hope so, Big. How is he? Is he intimidating?"

Big smiled uneasy. I took it for an automatic 'yes'.

"Just be confident and take directions. State your opinion, don't agree with everything he says. You will get accustomed to him. "

We pulled into the parking lot of a medium sized building that was red with large black windows and a black sign with white letters that read "MacWayne Studios". My heart was galloping in my chest, I left my sunglasses on, trying to make sure my eyes weren't wondering around all crazy.

After Big parked the car, he walked me in, past the front desk. A light skinned girl with short red hair stared at me oddly as she filled out the papers before her. The floors were wooden and the waiting area beside the secretary desk looked like a lounge with an assortment of nicely placed couches and tables. Big walked me down the hallway, each door reading a different name. We passed "Studio A" and "Studio B". The doors weren't open enough for me to see them. Studio C which was all the way to the back, seemed to be the biggest.

Big knocked twice before there was a deep voice on the other end. I knew it was him. From radio talk shows, songs, interviews. I knew that voice anywhere. I wanted to tell myself to relax but it was too late to completely get myself together. I tried deep breaths.

Slow and easy.

I make sure my bun is not unraveling and I stick my hands into my pocket to come across as calm as possible.

There was a pause before the door opened to the one and only. The same exact man that I had seen in magazines, billboards, the man who has a signature sound at the beginning of every song on the billboards.

THE "MacWayne".

He is daringly handsome for a 35 year old man.

Dark eyes, dark skin, plump lips, with almond eyes and a perfect hairline, waves on swim.

"Chanel." He doesn't smile right away.

"Yes, hello Mac, nice to meet you." I say with an outstretched arm. He looks at it before taking it casually.

"Nice to finally meet you. Come in and have a seat." He has barely even spoken to me and I get the sense that he is about his business. You can see it in his walk and his whole persona.

He is wearing an over sized white t-shirt with jeans pants and Jordans. There was no real sign of wealth on him, apart from the shiny black watch on his wrist.

Studio C was unlike any other studio I have ever seen. Much bigger than I imagined but somehow still very intimate. Controls and buttons stretched across half the room. A glass was up, smack in the middle and on the other side of the glass was a sparkly silver mic. The room with the mic was padded with black foam to enhance sound. The black foam looked incredible against the black floors and walls of the booth. Everything looked so raw and beautiful.

"I love your studio, the whole place." I said, speaking confidently.

"Thank you." He responds with direct eye contact.

"Thank you, Big." He nods to Big who exists the studio and closes the door behind him. Then it was just us.

A teenager from Brownsville net worth $2 in her pocket and a platinum producer and recording artist. I stared at him terrified and it would be crazy to think he didn't see it. I couldn't completely hide the truth.

He stuck his hand out to me again and I placed my hand in his. "Chanel, Chanel." He smiled and kissed my hand. I blushed and laughed.

"You need to relax, first of all." He said letting my hand go.

I cleared my throat. " Not everyday you get to meet someone with your legacy. Excuse me." I said politely.

"I understand and appreciate that to the fullest." He responded, putting his hand to his heart and bowing his head slighly through a half smile. He looked like he was in his early 20s, but he has looked that way literally forever.

If people in the hood knew I was chillin in Mac's studio, they would go crazy.

"I don't know if you read up on myself and the company but I bet you wouldn't guess where I'm from." Mac said.

"Brownsville, born and raised. Then you moved to the Bronx when you were 17. Started rapping hard there, getting on tracks with different artists until you found Carl Marxo who mentored you into a millionaire." I shurgged. I did read up on him, and I was impressed and very inspired by him way before Flex told me who I was working with. I was trying to find the blue print to my own success, but I knew every artist had to take their own road.

He came from the same place I did, made it up the ladder and now he owns multiple studios, houses, cars, and pretty much anything he needs.

"You've been doing you're homework," He nodded, pleased.

"I have. Very inspiring."

"I'm glad you feel so because I have big plans for you, we can do big things. Your voice is unique. Your poems are fluid, they draw people in. Your image needs work but we will find it."

He looked me over and smiled while shaking his head.

Immediately I felt both excited and stupidly dressed.

I laughed. "You don't like my outfit? I thought I was killin it." I said.

"As I said, it needs work, and it looks like you've been drinking all night. Your voice is weak, I can hear it as soon as you talk. You have bags under your eyes and you're highly dehydrated." Mac stared at me with a sly grin on his face. I averted my eyes as my stomach fell to the floor.

That was a good read.

"It's ok. I'm not judging you. I actually can't judge you at all because how I party and how you party are insanely different but when you have studio time or you're working with your voice coach, I don't want you drinking. I also want you to start thinking about your image, don't give people anything to use against you. That means don't send naked pictures through email or with your face in them." Mac walked over to the mini fridge and took out a large bottle of smart water. One for me and one for himself.

I open mine immediately and take a few gulps.

"If you're at a party don't wild out and do crack or anything crazy. If you smoke weed, I'd like you to stop, just until we figure out what we are going for with you, just until I feel it out. You have an innocent face so marketing you can be tricky. There a lot of things to think about and I need you to work with me, Okay?"

I noded and watched as he sat in the spinning chair across from me. I suddenly missed Flex.

He continued. "Don't get arrested, don't sell drugs, little shit like that. If someone should look into your past I want you to be clean. More than anything you should be practicing everyday. Your voice is nice, you do little riffs I like, it's very raw and you can control it, but it needs work."

I drank some more of the water as he spoke. I was dehydrated and it cooled my parched throat as it easily went down.

He rolled his chair to the huge table of buttons and pressed one I couldn't really see.

A girl who I guess was the secretary answered.

"Is CeCe here yet?" Mac questioned.

"Yes, would you like me to send her in?" The secretary asked.

"Please." Mac replied. Within seconds, a brown skinned woman, curvy and tall walked into the studio. She was absolutely stunning. Her make-up was professionally done, her hair was long and blonde and she smiled bright with big deep dimples. She was one of the perfect ones, kinda like Richie and Mac.

"Chanel, this is CeCe. I assigned her as your vocal coach and performance coach. She has worked with Rihanna, Alicia Keys, Beyonce, Jennifer Hudson, Christina Aguliera and many other amazing voices you have heard. I'm not telling you that to intimidate you, I'm telling you that so you know how hard you have to work to get your voice up to par."

I stood up and shook Cece's hand.

"Hello darling. How are you?" Cece asked. Her voice was very proper and energetic.

I smiled. "I'm good. It's nice to meet you." I replied.

"Somebody's been drinking and screaming." Cece commented. I rolled my eyes inside my head. Could everyone tell I went out last night?

"Yea, crazy night. Mac just told me the rules so no more drinking before practice." I nodded.

"Ok great." She laughed, her hand resting on my shoulder. She smelled amazing and her outfit, though plain complimented her beautifully.

She pulled a folder out of her red square pursed and handed it to me, then pulled out a blue one for herself. She sat down and motioned for me to sit across from her, so I did.

I opened the folder which contained pieces of music, warm up techniques and my schedule for vocal lessons. Not all of them were in the studio, some lessons were scheduled for theaters and cafe's. I realized they were also performance bookings. My face momentarily lit up.

"Ok, Chanel. We will be meeting every other day according to your availability. However, in the days we are not meeting, I need you to work twice as hard. As you can see, you have some performances booked. These are test runs, of course the audience is real and the atmosphere is real, good places to get fans but it is a chance to hear your voice in different places. How do you sing in a room with no acoustics? How do you sing in a room with all the sound you need in the world? How do you sing in a room with wooden walls, a room made of glass, a room full of sponge?"

I nodded understanding completely. Cece went on to speak about things I should be drinking and eating. She wants to take me shopping, I guess my outfit really did suck. I still liked it, despite them. Cece and I spoke for at least half an hour with Mac putting in his 2 cents now and then. After the meeting ended, Cece left and Mac took me into Studio B.

"Iiigght, now that the business stuff is out the way, lets get to some fun. I don't know what to do with ya dynamic ass, you can do so much." Mac said as he was setting up the studio mics. He looked at me from the booth and adjusted them to my height, this whole time a smile on his face.

"Get in here." He waved me in. I smiled and got into the booth, right up by the mic.

"Is that a good height for you?" He asked.

"Perfect." I answered.

"Yea I'm good at this, girl. I been doin this shit." He said jokingly.

"Iight, don't be nervous, right? This is just to loosen you up. I heard your stuff that Flex sent me, but it didn't show me how you could think on your feet." He left the booth and I immediately began to panic. He closed the booth door behind him and stared at me through the glass screening.

I put the headphones on and he clicked himself in to speak to me.

"Can you hear me good, sweetheart? " He asked.

"Loud and clear." I said into the mic.

He clicked back in. " I want you to freestyle to this beat I made."

I know he saw me froze. Aside from it being a complete honor to freestyle to one of Mac's beats, I already felt like I would do it no justice and disappoint him.

"Mac, I don't know about my freestyling abilities." I laughed it off.

"That's iight, some of the rappers out here are trash at it, I just want to see what you got. Don't be nervous, just gimme watchu got."

I shrugged and waited for the beat to drop. It sounds like a beat Trev would love. Something straight out the hood. I searched for the mood to match the song and decided to go with something confident and fun.

All you bitches be buggin, go tell ya aunty ya cousin

Chanel was tryin on shoes before ya claimed that you loved em

Chanel was ridin ya mans same time you claimed that you cuffed em

And if you thought he was loyal probably the end of dicussions

Mac came n told me just to freestyle

His beat blastin on these phones, shit is senile

Speakin of senile yall must be crazy

All these bars i'm shootin out, yall bound to hate me

Mac was in the next room jammin, the biggest smile on his face. The beat was slow enough to allow me time to come up with the bars, this was cake.

They hate how they raised me

Hate the fact they can't changed me

Yall be talkin shit n hate how i'm faded

Eyes dropping low in my Benz Mercedes

Roll up the window cause I hate how yall gazin

There was a short break in the beat and I chuckled

I'm lyin though, no Mercedes here

But you'd be trippin if you thought I wasn't gettin there

I'll have you flippin, got yall slippin on ya derriere

Sleepin on Chanel should be ya biggest fear

Nightmare after nightmare

Fly gear after gear

Wire the money to the most talented

I'll be standing here positive that ima get the biggest share

At the Grammy's like mic check, yo am I clear?