"Who do you, who do you, who do you think you are? Ha, bless your soul. You really think that you're in control?" - Crazy by Nothing But Thieves
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WARNING: oral sex, degradation, spanking, hair pulling, edging, slapping, light bondage, hate sex, studio sex
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I couldn't help yet another roll of my eyes as my fingers drummed against the desk while I listened to Harry spit the same verse for what seems to be the millionth time. No matter how many times we recorded his part of the song, it didn't feel right. It was like something was missing.
"Uh, can you do it differently? It's not hitting the spot," I told him, my voice booming through the recording room he was in.
Unfortunately for me, I was stuck with recording with Harry Styles for my new single. He was some up and coming rapper that the general public seems to be obsessed with recently so it was only natural that my manager wanted him to feature on my new track.
I have worked with numerous rappers before - all of which had egos bigger than the sun. It's almost as if cockiness was some sort of unspoken eligibility to become a chart-topping rapper and Harry just so happens to be narcissistic enough for the whole of Russia. I hated working with him and this was only our second meeting.
"Maybe your beat just isn't hitting the spot?" Harry's reply could be heard through the mic, accompanied with a roll of his eyes.
"No one is forcing you to be here, Styles," I scoffed, rewinding the music and re-recording his verse.
As much as I find him attractive, as do most of England I'm sure, his attitude towards my work was such a turnoff. I spent years making a name for myself in the music industry. No one bats an eyelid at you when you're a female DJ, starting from shitty student house parties and posting on SoundCloud until finally getting a big break to play at some nightclubs. I was lucky enough to be scouted and then my manager pulled some strings to have me mix some songs for massive artists. Now, here I am, one of the only female DJs in the charts.
Harry was pretty much an overnight sensation. A part of me was jealous. Maybe that fueled my hatred for him but I still despised the way he carried himself.
I hated how he saunters his way into the room and captivates everyone's attention. I hated how slow he spoke yet some of his verses were rapid and actually quite good. I hated how good his voice sounded, the drawl was a turn on but I would never tell him that. I hated how fucking good his fashion sense was. He should be in shitty designer and joggers like every other rapper I know yet here he is in the studio in Gucci dress pants and a t-shirt that probably costs at least £500.
