✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: in which a rebel
rockstar finds herself putting
out her cigarettes around a
bubbly brunette actress.
օʀ
daphne ryder is no new name to the
world. a household name- an ultimate
rockstar. always been seen as someone
who just sleeps arou...
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JUNE 2020.
DAPHNE RYDER SPENT HERwhole life being whomever she wanted to be. She did what she wanted since day one. Maybe that's because that's how she was raised. By herself, with no rules and no one to tell her 'no'. Not for the right reasons at least. She was taught the wrongings of life in a different way. A way she found never wishing on another soul. So it was safe to say, she had quite an interesting beginning. All thanks to one person.
"So why, are you without your new lover?" The tease of a british accent sounded across the studio room. A twirl of humor rested on his lips with a gentle smile, a water bottle settling in his left hand as he took a seat in the orange leather chair behind the recording studio. His cheshire cat smile toying at his lips as his muse sat directly across from him. The black couch with too many tacky pillows surrounding her as she sounded a faux chuckle. Her dark hair riding down her back messily, matching the black Fender in her lap. "I thought you're supposed to be helping me write here."
"You know, Phoebe says this is a thing. A real thing. Daphne Ryder is having a real thing," He presented his perfect bunny teeth as he popped a smile. Harry chose to ignore her previous comment as he continued his words in astonishment. "You know I'd like to think I know you very well."
Daphne pressed her lips together as she placed the guitar beside her and stood up. Her attempt of exiting the conversation. "Do you now?" The question clicked, as he continued grinning like a fool. "Mhm. I mean sure, we're friends. But you have lots of friends. I, however, have the experience of knowing you inside and out." He smiled at his own words, hoping to catch her eye. She ignored him as she made her way over towards the guitar wall. Pulling off an acoustic and bringing it with her to the couch.
"And knowing you to this extent, I know that you've never had an actual relationship. I'm the closet you've got. But, then lover girl came around. What is it you call her?" He murmured the last part as his eyes caught the ceiling in thought. "Fawn." Daphne Ryder heard all.
"Fawn, that's right. Guess what Daph?" He asked teasingly, as he pressed his pointed finger into his cheek. Leaning his head into his hand as a smirk painted his lips. She remained silent as she played a few simple chords on the guitar, a familiar tune of one of Harry's songs. One he may or may not have written about her years ago. Just because, how could he not? The egotistical knowing of all expression on his face didn't seem to disappear or differ as she watched him. A sigh escaping her lips as she opened them, "What?"
"You gave her a nickname," He practically giggled at the thought making her let out a very exaggerated groan. "I gave you a nickname the first time we had sex, H. I give everyone a nickname. Don't be fucking stupid."
