elysian ➝ n.k • b.t

three

chapter three! | a downside on fame.

S E R E N I T Y.

"Serenity, why aren't you up? It's late!" My assistant scolded opening the curtains letting the sunlight beam on my melanin skin.

I groaned placing my blanket over my head, attempting to finish my slumber. My body was sore from standing up in the booth for hours but at least I'm off to a good start.

One third of my album was recorded but yesterday I was told I wouldn't be able to in the next few days because of other things on the schedule.

The creating process and everything that comes with it is seriously hard work but I'm in love with the thrill that comes too.

A small smile appeared on my face once I heard silence but it soon faded when I felt a cold breeze brush against me. One eye opened as I looked down seeing my comforter in her hand.

"We have a photoshoot in the next hour. Mel wants you there early for hair, makeup and costume change. She estimated the shoot should take no longer than two hours. So chop chop." She demanded exiting my room. How is she giving orders when—

I turned over on my back and stared up at the ceiling, thinking of my options. I threw my feet over my bed and stood up. I practically dragged myself into my bathroom closing its door behind me.

Staring into my mirror, I gazed at all my features. I was told as a child that I was beautiful but that doesn't mean I felt it.

When I was first introduced to the public as an artist, people already assumed that I would be one of those one hit wonders with a pointless tune and the color of my skin did not help my case.

I became a victim of online bullying really quick which was a slight reason as to why I went into a deep depression. It was bad to the point where I started to state my hurt behind closed doors and eventually refused to step outside.

The break away from the spotlight was soothing in a way. I had the chance to revive myself and remember my whole purpose as an artist.

It taught me a valuable lesson to carry on in life ; how to grow thick skin. At least I can now move forward with be a light to those who struggle just like me.

• • • • •

"That isn't the appropriate breakfast Serenity." Melanie exclaimed once I exited from my million dollar home. I had a soda in my right hand with a candy bar in my left.

"I know," I shrugged. "I've been too busy to go food shopping and I'm rarely home anyways." I hinted at some sarcasm but Melanie shooed it off.

I love what I do dearly but sometimes I feel as if I have nothing to show for it. Everything I want to do as an artist has to be 'approved' by the label. They wouldn't even let me use songs I wrote on the first album.

"That's why you have a housekeeper Serenity." She stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "Use it."

"I can do that by myself." I spat as got in the passenger seat. I heard her huff and just get in the back seat along with my assistant.

We have a love slash hate work relationship, we disagree a lot that has to deal with the label but other than that, she can be a sweet person outside of work but with a hint of sass.

"We're already late." She scolded, strapping herself in the seatbelt. "Step on it and pronto! Serenity have places to be and people to see." Did I ever mention how bitchy she can be as well?

"What she means to say is that, we're kinda off schedule and it'd be very very appreciated if you take some shorter detours." I correct.

"I meant what I said. I don't need a translator." She then snapped at me. I blinked repeatedly like the meme I saw on Twitter then shifted in my seat to face her.

"One day, that mouth is gonna get you punched and I'll be right in the front with my popcorn." I snickered placing my earphones in blocking out her next response.

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