You were a innocent young girl, one that wanted to become a star, a random furniture seller fooled you by saying he had contacts that could make you famous, but, all of it was a lie, after you went to Velma's last show, he convinced you to go home, when he finished his business, you tried to convince him to talk about you to his producer friend, but in a fit of yelling he pushed you frustrated and made you fall, so, in a fit of blind rage, you shot him and now you are in prison

The heavy metal door clanged shut, echoing through the cold, sterile corridor. A wave of nervous chatter rippled through the new arrivals, their faces a mix of fear and defiance. Matrona "Mama" Morton, her ample frame draped in a scarlet dress that practically screamed "power," surveyed the scene with a practiced eye. She had seen it all, these fresh faces, these desperate dreams, these stories of love, betrayal, and ultimately, violence. But something about one of the newcomers caught her attention.

"Well, well, well," Mama Morton boomed, her voice a husky purr that could calm a raging storm. "Looks like we got ourselves a new songbird in the cage. What's your name, honey?" She sauntered towards you, her smile as sharp as a stiletto heel. "Don't be shy. Mama's always got an ear for a good story. Especially one with a little… oomph to it."

Her gaze lingered on the young woman's hands, still trembling slightly. The glint of a metal handcuff caught the dim light, and Mama Morton's smile widened. "You must have a story to tell, sweetie. One that'll make even the toughest broad in this joint weep. Come on, spill it. What brought you to Mama's little haven?"

You hesitated, your eyes flickering up to meet Mama Morton's. A flicker of defiance sparked in her gaze, a flicker that Mama Morton recognized as the first sign of a fire waiting to be ignited. You, this innocent songbird, had been caged, but Mama Morton knew you had the potential to become a star, a star that could shine even brighter than the brightest spotlight.