Forbidden Fruit (Travis Kelce)

Please Please Please

Arianna

Travis really shocked me when he  completely redid the downstairs den, transforming it into a recording studio. It was an incredible surprise, and I couldn't have been happier.

Today, I planned to put the studio to use working on "What Was I Made For?" while Travis hung out at Patrick's. I wanted some privacy because the song was deeply personal. I wasn't sure how Travis would feel about it. I hoped he liked it, but I was also worried that he'd be upset for not telling him how I'd been feeling.

As we set up, my producer, Dave, strummed a few chords on his guitar, trying to capture the melody I wanted. "So, what are you thinking for the vibe?" he asked.

"I want it to be introspective, almost haunting," I explained. "Something that really makes you feel the weight of the lyrics."

Dave nodded, playing a few more notes until we found the right sound. "Got it. Let's start recording some takes."

I stepped up to the microphone, took a deep breath, and poured my heart into the song. The lyrics flowed out of me, capturing the emotions I'd been bottling up. By the time we finished, I felt a sense of relief.

"That was amazing, Ari," Dave said, giving me a thumbs-up from the control room. "Really powerful stuff."

"Thanks," I replied, smiling. "I have another song idea I've been working on. It's inspired by some of my insecurities, especially after my run-in with Kayla."

Dave raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Okay, let's hear it."

I explained the concept, drawing from my recent encounter with Kayla. Despite the issues Travis and Kayla had, she was undeniably beautiful, and it made me insecure. I worried about Travis realizing he didn't want to be with me one day. I didn't want to wake up one day feeling embarrassed.

We brainstormed lyrics together, with each of us contributing lines and refining the theme. The process was collaborative, and soon we had a rough version of the song:

"I know I have good judgment," I began, setting the tone.

"I know I have good taste," Dave added, strumming his guitar.

"It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way," I continued.

Beth, our lyricist, jumped in. "I promise 'em that you're different, and everyone makes mistakes. But just don't."

We all nodded, feeling the flow. "I heard that you're an athlete, So play like a stand-up guy." I suggested

"Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight," Dave added.

"I tell them it's just your culture, and everyone rolls their eyes. Yeah, I know," I sang.

Then thinking of a chorus I sang this. "All I'm asking, baby... Please, please, please don't prove I'm right. Please, please, please don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice."

"Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another," Beth chimed in. "I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, oh." I added.

"Please, please, please," Dave echoed on his guitar.

We continued, feeling the song come to life. "Well, I have a fun idea, babe," I sang, "Maybe just stay inside."

"I know you're craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice (It's so nice, right?)" Beth added.

"And we could live so happily if no one knows that you're with me. I'm just kidding," I continued, laughing. "But really, really, really (Kinda)."

The chorus repeated, with slight variations, each time reinforcing the theme. "Please, please, please don't prove I'm right. Please, please, please don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice. Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another. I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, oh. Please, please, please."