When chance encounters in the studio transform into cozy coffee dates, leading to spontaneous rendezvous, simmering jealousy, and perhaps even love.
RENEÉ RAPP X FEMALE OC
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RENEÉ
The sound of clinking coffee cups and casual banter in the hallway of Interscope Records was nothing new. But today, it carried a different tune for me. It was as if those mundane noises were the prelude to something electric, something... inevitable. Frankie was always around these days, and every "accidental" run-in chipped away at the initial awkwardness between us.
"Whoops," I muttered, dodging a scurrying intern with an armful of vinyl records.
"Close call," Frankie quipped from behind me, her voice tinged with that British lilt that made everything she said sound just a tad more intriguing. We shared a quick, tight-lipped smile before resuming our paths.
---
"Reneé!"
I turned, finding Frankie jogging up to me, a sense of purpose in her stride that matched the look in her piercing green eyes. "You've got to hear this beat Alexander and I are laying down."
"Lead the way, maestro," I teased, falling into step beside her. The closer we got to the studio, the more her reserved nature seemed to slip away, replaced by a palpable excitement for her craft.
We stepped into the dimly lit room where Alexander was fiddling with some knobs on the soundboard. Frankie's energy was infectious, even the air around her seemed charged. And there she was, in her element, surrounded by mics and mixers - hotter than a summer in the valley. She didn't just push buttons; she coaxed music out of machines.
"Listen to this," she said, pressing play. The room filled with a pulsing beat, a raw melody that you could feel in your chest. It wasn't just good – it was spine-tingling.
"Damn, Frankie," I breathed out, impressed despite myself. "That's... fire."
"Thanks," she replied, a touch of red coloring her cheeks. "Still tweaking it, but it's getting there."
"Keep it up, and you'll have artists fighting to get on this track." My compliment was genuine, though I kept my tone light, playful even. There was a line between professional appreciation and personal interest, and I was toeing it like a pro.
"Appreciate it, Reneé." Her words were simple, but they held weight, coming from someone who usually guarded her words like precious stones.
"Anytime," I shot back with a wink, leaving her with a grin that felt like a shared secret.
FRANKIE
The bass pulsated through the club like a second heartbeat, vibrating up from the soles of my feet to the roots of my hair. It was one of those nights where the air was electric, and everyone who was anyone in LA had turned out for the album launch. I mingled, drink in hand, nodding along to Olivia's latest story about some drama that sounded more scripted than any actual script.
"Frankie, you feel me?" Olivia's voice cut through the haze of my distraction.
"Absolutely," I said automatically, though truth be told, my attention span had checked out the moment I spotted Reneé across the room. She was laughing at something someone had said, her head thrown back in delight, hazel eyes alight with mischief. She looked... well, she looked incredible. The way her blonde hair caught the lights, how her dress hugged her figure, it was all I could do not to stare.
"Frankie!" Olivia snapped her fingers, a smirk playing on her lips as she followed my gaze. "Earth to Frankie."
"Sorry, Liv." I shook my head, dragging my eyes away from Reneé and back to my friend. "What were you saying?"
"Never mind." Olivia's smirk widened. "I see where your focus is at."
"Shut up," I muttered, but there was no heat in it. Olivia just laughed, patting my arm before flitting off to talk to someone else.
"Good luck," she tossed over her shoulder, leaving me with a half-empty glass and a racing heart.
---
"Matcha again?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as Reneé rummaged through her purse at the counter of the coffee shop next door to the studio. The barista was giving her the kind of patient look reserved for lost tourists and toddlers.
"Always," she replied, but her smile faltered when her search came up empty. "Shoot, I think I forgot my phone."
"Allow me." I stepped up beside her and handed my card to the barista without a second thought.
"Thanks, Frankie," Reneé said, relief flooding her features. "You're a lifesaver."
"Anything for a fellow caffeine addict," I quipped. "Though I'm still judging you for drinking something that tastes like freshly mowed lawn."
"Hey!" Reneé laughed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "It's an acquired taste."
"Acquired after a severe blow to the head, maybe." My joke earned another laugh from her, and I found myself smiling too – it was hard not to around her.
"Ouch, harsh." She bumped my shoulder playfully as we moved aside to wait for our orders. "You know, I'll get the next one to make up for it."
"Is that a promise?" I asked, tilting my head to meet her gaze.
"Scout's honor." Reneé held up two fingers, her tone light but her eyes holding mine just a moment longer than necessary.
"Guess I'll hold you to that then," I said, my heartbeat quickening again, though this time it wasn't because of any bass line. It was all Reneé.
"Deal." Her smile was wide and full of promises as she accepted her matcha, and I couldn't help but wonder what exactly I was getting myself into.
