Ever since you signed that record label, you kept on getting showered with mass attention and compliments. In closed curtains, the mere thing you've been receiving is being afflicted with severe and relentless treatment by your one and only manager, "Genevieve".

It's about 1 in the morning, the duplicate apartment keys she owned jangled as she walked toward your direction in the bedroom. Maybe she needs something?

"Hey." A voice echoes.

"Get up." Her hand wriggles on your shoulder.