AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think this is how I'll be setting up my imagines now. It's more organized looking. Also, since this was requested but there wasn't really a scenario attached, I made one up myself. For the person who wanted this, I didn't tag you just in case you didn't want to be revealed. If you do, then I'll put your name, okay?
Maybe I'll make a part two for it... Anyways, here's your much wanted (kind of?) smut, you horny bastards.
SUMMARY: Y/N is a 23 year old, well-known singer. One night, she decides to take a little break from the famous life and escape to a local club. While she's sitting at the bar, and just relaxing, her new song, Despacito, starts playing through the speakers. She's about to leave but before she does, she locks eyes with a certain green-eyed woman across the dance floor.
female!reader
AU (alternative universe) where Lauren is not famous and Y/N is.
WARNING(S): Slight smut, coarse language, and drinking.
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Y/N's POV:
You'd think that being famous was always perfect and fun, that people who were prominent in mainstream culture had money to spend on everything and anything, had no worries in life besides what they were going to buy next or who they were going to hookup with at night. Hell, I thought that too once. But I was wrong, very wrong.
Being famous is like... well, being a superhero, in my opinion. I'm not saying it's like being a savior of the world or city because I'm thinking egotistically, quite the contrary actually. I say that being well-known is like being a superhero because it comes with so many different responsibilities and pressures that you wouldn't even think a person who's famous gets. Yes, we lionized people have stress too.
We always have to on top of our game, basically perfect for paparazzi and media. If we have one little slip up, it can be our very demise. We don't get much time to rest, because our fans are always wanting more. And how can we say no? They're the very people that got us to where we are today. We can't just up and turn our backs on them. What kind of people would we be if we did? Messed up ones, that's for sure.
"Long day?" A masculine voice asked from beside me as I ignore yet another call from my manager. I'd been sitting at this bar for about an hour or so, just downing drink after drink in hopes of being able to relax and finally not feel stress.
"You don't know the half of it." I replied without looking at them, taking a sip of my martini. I'd been drilled to the bone with producing new music by my manager and I felt like I was on the brink of losing my sanity.
