Page 52 of Juliet's Echo

“Play stupid. Like you didn’t tell your brother to put me on. Like the only reason I got an opportunity to sign a deal with HUSH isn't because you weren't mature enough to thank me for putting your little fuckboy boyfriend in his place. That’s what the fuck I don’t want you to do, Juliet.”

Thank God the door to the room was closed. Otherwise, Echo would've come in here and killed me for talking to her like this.

Honestly, I ain't give a fuck.

Echo's world might revolve around Juliet, but that wasn't how real life worked.

“Let’s go talk about this in another room,” she suggested, standing.

“Why? Can't nobody hear shit in this asylum anyways.”

“They can’t hear,” she corrected, “but they can definitely see when I slap the taste out your mouth. And I don't want my brother or godfather coming in here to beat your ass before I do. Now let's go, nigga.”

Wanting to speak my piece, I picked up the folder and motioned for her to lead the way. She turned without another word, and I followed her into a smaller room with solid walls, one couch, and a mounted television.

Juliet stopped near the center of the room and turned to face me with her arms folded, but her eyes stayed fixed on the door, waiting for it to close.

The second I heard the lock click; she started.

“First off, yes, I did pitch you to Echo. I was looking through his emails and saw your submission along with a bunch of othersfrom two years ago. And yeah, maybe in some way I haven't thought about yet, it was a thank you. But hardly.”

She stepped closer.

“It was because your four-eyed, arrogant, know-it-all ass is talented. Your music is amazing, and I knew my brother would fuck with your talent.”

“Ju, my ba—”

She immediately motioned for me to shut up.

“Second off, you rhinestone-wearing idiot, I honestly don't owe you an apology.”

Her finger jabbed into my shoulder.

“Your mama owes you a therapy session in the art of communication.”

Another jab.

“Do I appreciate you sticking up for me? Yes.”

Push.

“But I didn't ask your arrogant—”

Push.

“Conceited—”

Push.

“Annoying—”

Push.

“Mean ass to get in my fucking business and act barbaric in a public place.”

Push.

“Then you didn't even explain to me what came over you.”