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“C’mon pookie, don’t you wanna see mommy?” You cooed as you gently unbuckled your daughter from the car seat, being careful in the process, trying to avoid getting her little hands and feet caught up in the car seat belts.
It was around nine when Robyn had texted you, asking — begging — you to bring her something to eat, as she was stuck on a song and couldn’t afford to interrupt the creative process (at least, that’s what she wrote in the text). You already knew the actual truth though, the singer had a routine that you were oh so used to every time she went into the studio. And glancing at how late it was you could almost guarantee that your girlfriend was half past high o' clock. This was not (and definitely will not) be the last time she texted you late into the night, around the time. She and her crew began to wind down from drinking, smoking and lord knows what else....and it was exactly at this time you'd receive a call about food, because the munchies started to creep up on her.
You had consented to her command, because you could only imagine that no one else in that room was in any sort of sober mindset to go and get some takeout, hell not even Jen when she was normally the more responsible one, also if you could be of any help to your wife, you would do whatever it takes knowning Robyn wouldn't even hesitate on returning the favor. Even if that meant waking up your two year old child who was soundly asleep in her warm room. It wasn’t like you could’ve left her alone, and You thought it would be nice to eat together since the A-List star was missing out on the dinner you cooked tonight, even if in the studio surrounded by a dozens of others.
So, after not so little fussing from your daughter, you managed to buckle her in the backseat, where she’d almost instantly fallen asleep again. Making you pout at the sight, softly cooing towards her sleeping figure, hand reaching out to stroke her smooth cheek. Leaning down you gave your daughter a kiss before closing the door gently, not wanting to make a noise that would alert her from her slumber.
After picking up Robyn’s choice of takeout for tonight, which happened to be Del Taco, You made your way to the studio, driving through the empty streets of Burbank.
Perching your daughter up against your hip, you picked up the takeout bags from the passenger seat and locked the car with the keys. The toddler whined against your shoulder, probably disturbed by the locking beep sound of the fancy car Robyn had gifted you a couple of years back, for your anniversary surprise.
“Shh, its alright, momma's here. It was just the car, sweetie pie.” You soothed, whispering in her ear, hand softly rubbing her back.
You rang the doorbell to the entrance of the studio where the guard stayed on duty and waited for the door to be unlocked, and once the buzzing sound of the door resonated in the quiet air, you pushed it open and walked in. The studio to your shock was empty since it was a Sunday night, though that usually wasnt always the case. As when you walk past every door the sign would always say occupied on a good majority of the doors, but today almost all of the doors were open and unoccupied. You walked through the hallways light on your feet, humming to yourself as you searched for your target. Your daughter still quiet as she tries to drift back to sleep.
