"Who said that putting your love and faith in someone would trap a man?" -Lyrica 💜
Growing up in North Carolina, young Lyrica was taught to keep her head in school and away from boys. Falling for the only boy who liked her for her, Lyrica Denise An...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Your voice was a little flat. Do it again." Recording with Devante Swing is like eating in front of the President. Lyrica want to prove to her brother that she has what it takes to slay her vocals, look good while doing it, and proving herself to Dalvin that she has star quality. She knows first-hand the difference between Donald, her brother-in-law, and Devante Swing, the cocky perfectionist.
Sighing into the microphone, Lyrica nods her head. She's been going at it for five hours straight. To her, everything sounds perfect. Yet, to Devante, Lyrica is straining herself so she can sound like someone other than herself. Devante would occasionally lean back in his leather chair and admire Lyrica's vocals. She is raw talent; however, he cannot get over the fact that she is too nervous around him, which is causing her vocals to be out of range. Devante was the one who convinced Dalvin to allow Lyrica in his music group, Da Bassment Cru, formally known as Swing Mob. And so far, Devante is impressed with what he sees.
"I need a break." I told him through the microphone, while gazing into his hazel eyes that spelled exhaustion. Devante is the definition of workaholic. He would go days without sleeping, or eating just to produce a hit record. With Jodeci being the number one R&B group that is out, there is no slacking when it comes to the quality and quantity.
He kissed his teeth. "You don't need a break." He tells her, swinging in his chair from side to side, staring off in the ceiling. Him and Lyrica got the studio to their selves while the other members are enjoying their night out in town. Because Dalvin was not answering Lyrica's phone calls, she hit up Devante wanting to release some steam by recording.
Popping her lips as a response, Lyrica purposely took off her headphones only to get a reaction from Devante. She walked out the booth wearing a money green suede jumpsuit showcasing her long, athletic legs and thighs peeking from her shorts. Devante's wandering eyes were playing hopscotch all around Lyrica's body. Not in front of her, of course, out of respect for his idiot brother. "Look D, my throat is raw, my stomach is touching my back, and you promise me food. I haven't seen your ass get up and order a damn thing."
"I been working." He replied with a chuckle, eyes low under his hooded eyelashes.
"Working my ass." She laughs. "I been doing all the vocal work, Mr. I-SIT-BEHIND-THE-SOUNDBOARD-AND-STROKE-MY-KEYS. I am going to wake up with a sore throat because of you."
"Huh?" He chuckles. "Nah. Your vocals on point Lyrica, it's just towards that ending you tend to get a little lazy and that shit comes out all wrong. I mean, you want to prove to everybody that you have the talent. Well, working with me, I'mma have that ass in shape and ready."
She releases another heavy sigh. His hooded eyes followed her every move as she made her way towards the leather sofa. "Can we just get a bite to eat and call it a night?"
