London, Plaza Hotel

“How dare you make conditions, you bastard?! Lauren screamed. - Forgot who pulled you out of the shit? Have you completely lost your fear?

The singer's eyes burned with a feverish fire, burning through the girl standing next to her.

- Yes, I wanted to spit! - she answered defiantly and dragged on a cigarette. - I need grandmas. I've done my job.

- You got the money, so roll up your lip.

- Well, OK. Only tomorrow, I will turn to some newspaper and tell my story, or rather ... ours.

Lauren felt that a few more words, and she will fly off the coils. She...