- Lisa × Male Reader -
You are Y/N Jackson, a 21 year old amateur music producer who lives in Perth with your parents and your douchebag of an elder brother. Overhearing your mother mention an online audition for YG Entertainment, you both decide to...
I take off my headphones to take a break after a couple of hours of working on the mix, and heave a long sigh. After this last song is done, I don't think I want to work on any music, at least for a couple of weeks. At the very least, I'm 3 weeks ahead of the deadline Daeyong gave me for the last song on my EP.
After I'd sent all the demos to Daeyong, we'd discussed potential names for the EP, and we came up with 'Home', which suits the theme of more than one of the songs. The songs on the EP are Thinking, You, Can't Forget, Past featuring Rosé, and Face The Music. I'm mostly done with the songs, except Face The Music, which I'd just been working on mastering to give it the finishing touches. I'd crammed most of the work into the past weeks, and now I have exactly three weeks before the deadline, the 28th of August.
Heading out of the studio for a moment to give my ears a break, I text Lisa to see if she's awake yet.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Not expecting a reply, I leave my phone on the dining table and open up a window in the living room for some fresh morning air. Maybe not the best idea. I quickly close the window again to keep the smoky smell from the road outside out of my apartment. Is it too much to ask for some nice, Saturday morning air?
To my surprise, my phone vibrates loudly on the wooden surface of the dining table. I walk over to it and see that Lisa is, in fact, up.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Chuckling to myself, I check the time on my phone. 9 am. I can probably finish the song tomorrow. I've got 21 days left, anyway.
I head back into the studio, save the project, and switch stuff off in the studio room before changing into a simple white T-shirt and khaki pants. I can't believe younger me used to wear jackets in the summer heat. Just one of the many things I question my younger self's judgement for.
Getting into my car, I drive over to a florist's shop a couple of blocks away from my apartment. I try and fail to avoid being recognised in the store, with the cashier seeing through my mask and sunglasses. She asks for a photo, which I oblige before paying her for the yellow and violet bouquet I'd ordered online a couple of days ago. I thank the cashier, though she thanks me even more profusely.
I arrive at Lisa's door, with the bouquet in one hand, and ring the doorbell. I hide the bouquet behind my back before she gets a chance to peek at it through the peephole. A few moments pass before the door unlocks and swings open to reveal Lisa.
