𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚

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𝐢𝐢𝐢

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𝐢𝐢𝐢.
𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

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𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

For precisely an hour, Julia and I slave over our appearances with the limited time given to us by a literal God of the music industry, until driven into frantic overdrive.

Both of us ran around my apartment to the best of our ability (due to our choice of footwear for the night), collecting our belongings like chickens with their heads cut off.

We have about an hour to get to the club by eleven. Leaving now would cut our arrival time close.

We'll be several minutes late. Several, as in thirty minutes if the lines aren't too long.

Hopefully Derek's a man of patience.

But if his songs are to give any indication, he most likely isn't. And he's definitely not the forgiving type either.

Amidst the bustling nightlife of downtown Los Angeles on weekends, the streets overflow with a relentless stream of vehicles, a symphony of honking horns and flashing lights. Every inch of space, every establishment, teems with crowds; particularly the area we'll be in tonight.

Derek chose the busiest, elitist, crowded club out of dozens in the area.

This means he isn't playing around, and whatever spiel my manager fed him must've worked like a charm to persuade him to showcase our connection in such a grand venue.

Basically, the whole world will know about "us" as soon as the sun rises.

"Relax, would you? I can feel your anxiousness from over here. It's not good for my chakra." Julia says beside me inside of our Uber, legs crossed. Distress taints her angelic features.

"Sorry. My fate is kind of hanging in the balance right now. Pretty sure I'm about to fall into the fiery pits of hell for what I'm about to do, if the Crims don't push me in first. Especially the hardcore Crims. Those die-hard fans of his are insane by the way."

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 ⭑ 18+Where stories live. Discover now