Mariah in love

The Morning After

Mariah lay in bed, her body wrapped in silk sheets, a slow, satisfied smile stretching across her lips.

She had never felt anything like this before.

Last night wasn't just passion—it was something deeper.

At first, she had been nervous—of course, she was. It had been her first time. But Pac had a way of making her feel safe, like he wasn't just there for the moment but for her.

And now, as she watched him—lying on his back, one arm draped over his forehead, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm—she felt something she hadn't expected.

Something dangerous.

She was falling for him.

At first, it had just been his face—the way his smile could flip between mischief and warmth in an instant, the way his eyes seemed to see straight through her walls.

But now?

Now, it was the way he carried himself, the way he treated people, the way he moved with purpose.

That was what made him different.

Mariah bit her lip, stretching her legs beneath the sheets, feeling a satisfied ache in her body. She had heard about nights like this in songs, in movies. But they never got it right.

Last night had been… something else.

The way Pac touched her—slow, intentional, like he wanted her to remember every second.

The way he whispered in her ear, voice low and rich, telling her things that made her shiver in ways she didn't know were possible.

The way he held her after—like it wasn't just about lust, like he actually wanted her there.

Mariah turned on her side, watching him sleep, resisting the urge to trace her fingers across his jaw.

What are you doing, Mariah?

She knew she should be careful. But how could she, when Tupac Shakur was the first man to make her feel seen?

---

Bringing Mariah to the Label

Pac wasn't the type to waste time.

By the next afternoon, he had Mariah in his car, heading straight to the label.

Mariah was still processing everything—not just the night they spent together, but the way Pac had treated her afterward. No awkwardness. No distance. Just that same cool, effortless energy.

She wasn't used to this. Most men—hell, most people in the industry—only saw value in what they could take from her.

Pac?

Pac wanted to build something.

That's what made her trust him.

So when he pulled up to Death Row's headquarters, she took a deep breath and stepped inside.

She wasn't prepared for what she saw.

The place was alive.

Artists moving in and out of rooms, producers tweaking beats, people laughing, arguing, working like a damn family.

This wasn't like the cold, corporate offices she had been rejected from.

This label had a soul.

Pac led her straight to Lydia's office.

Lydia, sharp as ever, looked Mariah up and down, then turned to Pac with a raised eyebrow.

"You sure about this, Pac?"

Pac smirked, already expecting the pushback.

"She got talent, Lyd. Real talent."

Lydia didn't look convinced.

"Or is this just because she's beautiful?"

Mariah's stomach dropped. She wasn't stupid—she knew how the industry worked.

But before she could speak, Pac stepped forward. "Nah. Listen to the demo first. Then talk to me."

Lydia sighed but took the cassette from him. She gave Mariah one last skeptical look before heading to her sound system and pressing play.

The moment Mariah's voice filled the room, everything changed.

Lydia's eyebrows lifted, her foot started tapping, and by the second chorus, she was nodding along.

When the last note faded, she leaned back in her chair, exhaling.

Then, finally, she looked at Mariah—not like a pretty face, but like an artist.

"Okay," Lydia said. "Let's talk business."

---

Mariah Signs to Death Row Records

It only took a few days.

Mariah had officially signed with Death Row.

Pac made sure her contract was fair, just like his.

$100,000 advance.

A seven-album deal.

20% royalties to start, but with the success of each album, her cut could increase to 50%.

And just like Pac, her royalties would be held for ten years to protect her in the long run.

Mariah couldn't believe it.

She had gone from being rejected by the industry to signing one of the biggest deals of the year—all because of Tupac.

But Pac didn't just leave her to figure things out on her own.

He built everything around her.

Voice training.

Songwriting sessions.

Stage presence coaching.

Producers, stylists, marketing teams—everything she needed to not just survive, but dominate.

And Lydia?

Lydia became her manager, overseeing everything, making sure Mariah wasn't just another artist in the system.

Mariah had never seen anything like it.

This wasn't just a label. This was a family.

She saw it in the way Pac checked in on every artist, making sure they were taken care of.

She saw it in how Lydia ran things—not just like a businesswoman, but like a mother, making sure nobody got left behind.

She saw it in how everyone had each other's backs, no fake industry smiles, no cutthroat competition—just a team moving as one.

Mariah had spent her whole life chasing a dream.

Now, for the first time, she felt like she was part of something bigger than just herself.

And it all started with one night. One ride. One man who actually believed in her.

Author notes

I was just bored write the album tracks and I know you guys was also bored. I am writing this because many of you guys and Mariah in the story before even starting of the story were asking Mariah in the story and don't worry I am going giving more people. And as writer I also take your suggestions seriously. And this is the realistic the way I thought of introducing Mariah if you guys don't this is real story that Mariah asks CEO of sony to listen to her demo. And that way she got sing and married that man 😡 😡 😡 😡 😡 . I don't know man after listening to her song I have become her fan because of her body at old age.

End