Kiana Monroe leaned back into the plush leather seat of the luxury SUV, her perfectly manicured fingers absentmindedly tapping against her phone. The city lights of Los Angeles blurred by as the vehicle cruised down Sunset Boulevard.
Her long, curly hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that had once graced the covers of every major music magazine. She had been a sensation—the pop princess with a voice that could melt hearts and a look that had men swooning. But that was two years ago.
Now, Kiana sat in the shadow of her former self, still drop-dead gorgeous, but far removed from the queen she once was. The industry that had once adored her now pressed her with relentless questions about when her next hit would drop, if she still had it in her.
Her latest singles had flopped, and the whispers in the hallways of Black Gold Records were growing louder.
"She's done."
"She'll never make a comeback."
Kiana closed her eyes, trying to block out the negativity, but the thoughts kept creeping in. She had been young when she started—just 19 when her debut single shot to number one. The fame had been intoxicating at first.
The parties, the magazine covers, the attention. But it was also suffocating. After a few years, her image had been carefully manufactured by the label, her every move orchestrated by managers, stylists, and PR teams. There had been no room for Kiana to grow as an artist, no room for mistakes.
Now, at 25, she was trying to claw her way back to relevance, to create something that would make the world remember who she was.
But the pressure was mounting. Black Gold Records had been clear—if she didn't produce a hit soon, her contract would be up for review. The label was known for its ruthlessness when it came to business, and if Kiana couldn't bring in numbers, they wouldn't hesitate to cut ties.
And then there was Malik.
Malik was one of the label's biggest male stars, a rapper whose fame had skyrocketed in the last three years. He had swagger, charisma, and chart-topping hits.
The label adored him, and his influence was undeniable. Kiana had approached him about a potential collaboration, thinking their combined star power could produce something incredible.
But Malik had other ideas.
"I'll work with you… but you know the deal, right?" Malik had said with a smug grin, leaning back in his chair, his gaze roaming over her in a way that made Kiana's skin crawl.
She had refused outright, disgusted by his proposition. She wasn't going to sell her dignity for a hit. But what stung more was learning that her own manager, Cynthia, had been in Malik's ear, encouraging the collaboration—and worse, secretly supporting his terms.
Kiana didn't know the full extent of Cynthia's betrayal, but she could feel it in the way her manager pushed Malik's agenda. Cynthia had always been more loyal to the label than to Kiana. It was becoming increasingly clear that Kiana was on her own.
As the SUV pulled up to a red light, Kiana's phone buzzed with a new message from Cynthia. She ignored it, turning her attention to the radio instead.
"Next up, we got a brand new single from Ty the Phoenix," the radio host announced. "This track is called Heart on a Sleeve. It's blowing up right now, folks. Don't sleep on this one."
Kiana furrowed her brow. She had heard whispers about Ty the Phoenix, a new rapper who had come out of nowhere with his breakout collab hit with Jax Resurrection. She hadn't paid much attention before, but something about the title of this new song caught her interest.
As the first few notes of the track played, Kiana leaned forward, her attention fully captured. The beat was raw and emotional, and as Tyler's voice came through the speakers, she felt a chill run down her spine. His lyrics were vulnerable, dripping with pain and regret, but delivered with such precision and passion that it felt like he was speaking directly to her.
"...I had a dream I could tell you, but I couldn't breathe,
Every time I saw you, my heart on my sleeve…"
Kiana closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. There was something about Ty's voice, something real and authentic, that struck a chord deep inside her. He wasn't like Malik or the other rappers who seemed more focused on their image than their art. Ty had something to say, and people were listening.
As the chorus hit, Kiana found herself nodding along, her mind racing. This… this is the sound I've been looking for. She hadn't felt this kind of excitement about music in years. Maybe it was the way Ty bared his soul in the song, or maybe he was still new to the game, untainted by the industry's dark side.
Suddenly, an idea formed in her mind. What if she reached out to him? A remix of Heart on a Sleeve could be exactly what she needed to relaunch her career. Ty was already gaining momentum, and with her vocals on the track, it could take both of them to the top.
She grabbed her phone and opened Cynthia's message. But instead of reading it, she texted back something different:
"I need a meeting with Ty the Phoenix. Get it done."
Kiana smiled for the first time in a long while, a glimmer of hope flickering inside her. Maybe, just maybe, this was the break she had been waiting for.