Quinton, 20 years old. Quinton slid out of his car and walked into the studio. His movements clearly showed his boredom and annoyance. He knew what he was getting into when he signed a contract, but at the moment he didn't realize he'd grow tired of it. It wasn't so much that as it was that he had realized it wasn't the life for him. He would hang out with friends from highschool during his free-time, and they all seemed so happy. They all had nice relationships withntheir girlfriends, one of his closer friends had proposed. Quinton on the other hand couldn't keep a girlfriend for more than a month. That was how long it took him to figure out they didn't really love him, they only wanted his wealth and fame. Quintonnwas tired of it. He needed to leave.