𝗙𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗜𝗻 𝗟𝘂𝘃 | K/DA Akali x M! Reader

-9-

It took Y/N a week to decide that he hated Renata Glasc.

It wasn't the idle hatred developed over the course of a two-and-a-half-hour movie for the person behind you who insists on silently using the back of your chair as a footrest either.

This was a kind of long-term broil that would build up over the course of weeks or months, or even years, only to explode in the wee hours of the morning and ruin a marriage or something equally dramatic.

A soft click sounded and a voice came through, "Again." Another click and the voice faded.

"Miss Glasc, with all due respect, it might be time to—"

Renata Glasc looked up from the recording console and turned her gaze onto the vocal coach who had dared to second-guess her as if he were a nasty little hobbitses with a ring, and she was the eye of fucking Sauron.

"Your respect, Mister Crawford, means less to me than the cheese danish I had for breakfast," she said flatly. "His performance has not yet satisfied me, which means that he will do it again."

"Please, I'm exhausted," Y/N wheezed from the recording room as he massaged his throat. He had pushed himself hard. He had always pushed himself hard. He pushed himself to be the best he could be. What Renata Glasc was doing wasn't pushing him. It was grabbing him by the scruff of the neck like a disobedient pet and dragging him through the gravel!

Every single day of the past month had been hell, and it had congealed into one miserable mass of waking, eating, training, and sleeping.

Sure, he may have been a slacker compared to the likes of Qiyana or Yasuo. But cut him some slack, he's new to this...

Renata Glasc, on the other hand, did not care, and had gone full iron-fisted tyrant on him! Absolutely everything was under her control. She set Y/N's schedule from the very first day down to fifteen-minute increments, and she made sure that Y/N followed it.

The first day, she'd apparently strolled into his apartment—where she'd gotten the key, Y/N still didn't know—and woken him up with an airhorn.

'Consider it incentive to wake up on time, boy,' Renata had said as Y/N had tried to get his heart rate down from arrest to mere arrhythmia.

The seven-day stretch of vocal coaching sessions that they were just now reaching the tail end of had proved to be the worst of a bad lot, though. The slightest squeak or crack in Y/N's voice always warranted the same acid response.

Again.

"I am not doing this again," Y/N said, pushing the boom mic away. "I'm tired! We've been at this for a week! I need to rest! I need a day—just one day—to at least hangout with everyone else!"

That's another thing. He had rarely interacted with his other group members this entire time. Outside of choreography practice and walkthroughs, Y/N hardly saw them before being dragged off by Renata.

Renata held Y/N's gaze for a long moment before seeming to give ground. To Y/N's surprise, Renata gestured for him to leave the recording room and join them in the control room.