Annoyed

Arell leaned back in his chair, letting the music wash over him as Pharrell replayed the updated beat for Pink Dust. The studio filled with a lush, atmospheric soundscape that seemed to breathe life into the air around them.

"Damn, Pharrell," Arell said, his eyes closed as he absorbed every nuance. "This is something else. That synth line... it's got this nostalgic vibe, but it still feels fresh, you know?"

Pharrell's face lit up with a grin. "Good ear, man. I flipped an old Depeche Mode track for that - 'Enjoy the Silence.' Pitched it down, added some reverb. Gives it that dreamy quality."

Arell's eyes widened. "Depeche Mode? For real? That's wild. It's like... I can almost recognize it, but it's totally its own thing now."

They spent the next hour fine-tuning the track, Pharrell showing Arell some of his production techniques.

"So, what if we brought that bass line in a little earlier?" Arell asked, leaning forward to point at the screen. "Like, right before the hook drops?"

Pharrell nodded thoughtfully. "Could work. Let's try it."

As they worked, the conversation flowed naturally between music and life. Pharrell shared stories from his early days in the industry, and Arell opened up about his experiences growing up in Chicago.

Eventually, as they wrapped up work on Pink Dust, Pharrell queued up another beat. A catchy whistle melody filled the room, underscored by a bouncy, electronic beat.

[Reference Track: Lil Nas X (Panini)]

Arell's head started nodding immediately, his fingers tapping out the rhythm on his thigh. But as the beat progressed, his expression changed. "Hold up," he said, sitting up straight. "Pharrell, man... this is too good for the mixtape."

Pharrell raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh yeah? What are you thinking?"

"This has to be on the album," Arell said. "It's got that... that crossover potential, you know? I can already hear it on the radio, people singing along..."

A slow smile spread across Pharrell's face. "Alright then, let's see what you can do with it. You want to lay down some vocals?"

Arell nodded eagerly, already moving towards the mic. As he settled in, Pharrell adjusted the levels, then hit play.

The whistle melody filled Arell's headphones, and he closed his eyes, letting the beat wash over him. After a moment, he opened his mouth and began to flow:

"Girl, I need to know, is it only me?

You got me thinkin', is this real or just a dream?

I need you right now, deeper than it seems

Girl, do you want this for us?

Do you want this for you? Do you want it for me?

Caught between friendship and what we could be"

He paused, frowning slightly. "Hold up, Pharrell. Can you drop that whistle down a few semitones? I think it'll hit harder if it's a bit lower."

Pharrell nodded, making the adjustment. When he played it back, Arell's eyes lit up. "Yeah, that's it. That's the one."

They spent the next 20 minutes working on the track, Arell mumbling and freestyling as he felt out the flow.

Pharrell pulled up another beat on his computer. "Alright, check this out," he said, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a hint of excitement. "I've been sitting on this one for a while, couldn't quite figure out where to take it."

He hit play, and a deep, resonant piano chord filled the room. Subtle synths swelled in the background, and a haunting vocal sample drifted through the mix. As the beat built, Arell could hear what sounded like a church choir, their voices rising and falling like a spiritual tide.

(Kanye X Jay Z type Beat, Heaven and Hell (Youtube))

"Whoa," Arell breathed, leaning forward in his seat. "This is... this is something else, man. It's like... church meets the club or something."

Pharrell nodded, watching Arell's reaction closely. "Yeah, I was going for something kinda transcendent, you know? But I got stuck on where to take it from here."

As the beat dropped, Arell's jaw dropped with it. The drums kicked in, hard and insistent, while a woman's voice soared over the top, repeating phrases that sounded almost like a prayer.

Arell was on his feet before he realized it, pacing the room as the beat washed over him. Words began to form in his mind, a flow taking shape.

"Yo, Pharrell," he said, his voice urgent. "Can we... can we work on this? Right now?"

Pharrell's face split into a wide grin. "I was hoping you'd say that."

They dove in, losing themselves in the creative process. Arell laid down verse after verse, each one building on the last. Pharrell tweaked the beat, adding layers, adjusting levels, following Arell's instincts.

"What if we brought in some more percussion right here?" Arell suggested, pointing at a spot on the waveform. "Like, some tribal drums or something?"

Pharrell nodded, already reaching for his drum machine. "I feel you. Let's try it."

A Hourpassed unnoticed. The outside world faded away, leaving only the music and the creative flow between them.

Just as they were about to play the track back one last time, the studio door swung open. Kanye West strode in, his presence filling the room instantly. Behind him came Timbaland, Ty Dolla $ign, and a few others Arell didn't recognize.

"Yo, Pharrell!" Kanye called out, his voice booming in the enclosed space. "We still on for that session or what? Been trying to reach you all night, man."

Pharrell's eyes widened slightly. "Shit, is that the time? My bad, Ye. We got caught up in something..."

The newcomers crowded into the studio, their energy completely different compared to the focused calm that had pervaded the room moments before. Kanye's eyes landed on Arell, curiosity flashing across his face.

"Who's this?" he asked, his tone not unfriendly but direct.

Before Pharrell could answer, Arell stepped forward, extending his hand. "Arell Rose. Nice to meet you."

Kanye shook his hand, his grip firm. "Arell Rose? Why does that name sound familiar?"

"He did that track with Travis," Ty Dolla $ign chimed in from the back of the room. "'Fair Trade,' right?"

Recognition dawned on Kanye's face. "Oh yeah, that joint was fire. You produced that right?"

Arell nodded, trying to keep his cool despite the surreal nature of the situation. "Yeah, I did."

Kanye's eyebrows shot up, impressed. "For real? Alright, alright. So what you two cooking up in here that's got Pharrell forgetting about the rest of us?"

Pharrell and Arell exchanged a glance. "You want to hear it?" Pharrell asked.

The room fell silent as Pharrell queued up the track. As the opening chords filled the space, Arell watched the faces of the newcomers, gauging their reactions.

Timbaland's head started nodding almost immediately, his producer's ear catching the intricacies of the beat. Ty Dolla $ign's eyes closed, letting the music wash over him. But it was Kanye's reaction Arell found himself focused on.

As the track built, Kanye's expression shifted from polite interest to genuine engagement. By the time the drums kicked in, Kanye was moving to the beat, his head bobbing, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

When the song ended, there was a moment of silence. Then Kanye let out a low whistle. "Damn, Pharrell. You outdid yourself this time."

Arell felt a twinge of frustration. He'd poured his heart and soul into that track, and they were acting like Pharrell had done it all himself. He caught Pharrell's eye, but he just gave him a subtle shake of the head, as if to say, "Let it play out."

Kanye was in full swing now, talking a mile a minute about his vision for the track, how it could fit into his next project. The others chimed in, offering suggestions, debating the merits of different approaches.

Arell stood to the side, feeling simultaneously awed and invisible. Here he was, in a room with some of the biggest names in the industry, and they barely seemed to notice he existed.

Finally, during a lull in the animated conversation, Pharrell cleared his throat. "Actually, guys," he began, his voice cutting through the excited chatter, "I can't take all the credit for this one." He gestured towards Arell, who felt a surge of anticipation. "This is mostly Arell's work. He made most of the drums, I just helped refine it."

Arell felt a flush of pride at Pharrell's words, but it was quickly tempered by the reaction - or lack thereof - from the others in the room. Kanye's eyes barely flickered in his direction before returning to Pharrell, lit up with the thrill of discovery.

"This track, it's fire," Kanye said. He turned to Pharrell, effectively cutting Arell out of the conversation. "Send this to my engineer. I want to see what we can do with it for my next project."

Arell's stomach dropped, a cold feeling spreading through his chest. Did Kanye just assume he could take the track? His track? The one he'd poured his heart and soul into for the past hour? He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat as Kanye barreled on.

The room's energy buzzed with Kanye's infectious enthusiasm, but for Arell, it felt more like a swarm of angry bees. He felt a wave of frustration rising, coupled with a simmering sense of invisibility.

He glanced at Pharrell, hoping for some support, some acknowledgment of the situation. Pharrell caught his eye and gave him a subtle, reassuring nod, but it did little to calm the growing storm inside Arell.

Kanye continued to talk, his ideas spilling out in a rapid stream that left little room for interruption. "We could add another choir here," he said, gesturing expansively as if conducting an invisible orchestra. "Maybe some strings. What do you think, Tim?"

Timbaland nodded, his head already bobbing to a beat only he could hear. "Yeah, I can hear that," he said, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the edge of the mixing board. "And some deep bass to really make it hit. Give it that extra oomph, you know?"

They were discussing his work as if he wasn't even in the room, throwing around ideas that would fundamentally change the track he'd crafted so carefully. He felt a flash of anger, hot and sharp, but he clenched his jaw, trying to maintain his composure.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, trying to look casual even as tension coiled in his muscles.

While the others were engrossed in their discussion, Arell pulled out his phone, needing a distraction, something to ground him in this situation. A message from India popped up: "Boo, what you doing?"

Arell's fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed back, "In the studio with Pharrell, Kanye, Timbaland, and Ty Dolla $ign." The act of putting it into words made the situation feel even more unreal.

India's response was immediate, a flurry of exclamation points followed by, "Omg, that's crazy! I have to show you something." A screenshot followed, showing a direct message from Soulja Boy on Instagram: "Leave that lame Arell and pull up on me tonight."

Arell's jaw tightened, a new layer of frustration adding to his already simmering emotions. "Bro, this is annoying," he muttered under his breath, low enough that the others, still engrossed in their discussion, didn't hear.

India messaged again. "Blocked him on everything, just wanted you to know."

Arell took a deep breath, his irritation mounting. He could feel a headache building behind his eyes. "Just ignore him for now," he typed back, trying to keep his cool. He didn't need this drama, not now.

But the irritation continued to build as the session went on. Kanye was in full creative mode now, pacing the room as he spat out idea after idea. And Ty Dolla $ign, in the midst of the creative frenzy, had taken a seat at the control board, leaning back in the chair like he owned the place.

"You know," Ty said, a confident smirk playing on his lips, "this track could really use my touch. I'm hearing a hook, something smooth to contrast with the verses."

That was his chair, his spot at the board. He'd been sitting there just an hour ago, crafting the very track they were now dissecting and reimagining without so much as a glance in his direction.

He looked around the room, hoping to catch someone's eye, to somehow insert himself back into the conversation. But Kanye was gesticulating wildly as he described his vision for the track, Timbaland was nodding along, his fingers still dancing over the keyboard, and even Pharrell seemed caught up in creativity.

"This is going to be revolutionary," Kanye was saying, his eyes alight with the fire of creation. "Pharrell, man, you've outdone yourself."

And there it was again - the assumption that this was all Pharrell's work. Arell felt something inside him snap. Without a word, he pushed off from the wall and headed for the door. As he reached for the handle, he caught Pharrell's eye. He frowned, a question in his eyes, but Arell just shook his head slightly and slipped out of the room.

As he stepped into the hallway, closing the studio door behind him, the muffled sounds of excited voices and thumping bass faded. He leaned against the wall, his heart racing, thoughts tumbling over each other.

"I should go back in there," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. "Ask to help, get involved somehow..."

But even as the words left his mouth, indignation rose within him. "What did my lame ass just say?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "That's your track. You practically made most of it."

"I don't even wanna be in there, doesn't even matter, they'll still need my clearance for it to be released." he sighed, pushing off from the wall and heading towards the exit.

The cool night air hit him as he stepped outside, a welcome respite from the stuffy intensity of the studio.

As he stepped up the door of the SUV Arell hesitated, his hand on the car door. Did he really want to go back to the villa right now? just to play 2K with Kenny? As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a message from India: "You done yet? Come over."

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"The Grand Hotel it is.".

When he pulled up to the hotel, he made sure to text Cam and Rashad to pull up in the other SUV and keep watch outside the hotel.

He then made his way through the ornate lobby, nodding politely to the night staff as he headed for the elevators.

India was waiting for him when he reached her floor, leaning against her door frame with a sympathetic smile. "Rough night?" she asked as he approached.

Arell let out a long breath. "You have no idea."

She pulled him into a hug, and he felt some of the tension leave his body as he breathed in the familiar scent of her perfume. "Come on," she said, leading him into the room. "Tell me all about it."

For the next hour, they sat on the plush hotel couch, Arell recounting the events of the night while India listened attentively, occasionally offering words of support or outrage on his behalf. As he talked, Arell felt the weight of the evening slowly lifting from his shoulders.

"You wanna stay?" India asked when he finally fell silent, her voice soft and inviting.

Arell hesitated, he still wanted to take things slow... But after the night he'd had, the idea of returning to the villa held little appeal. "Yeah," he said finally.

India nodded, her smile widening. "Good," she said, standing up and extending a hand to help him off the couch. Together, they made their way to the bed, the soft light from the bedside lamp casting shadows across their faces. India slipped under the covers first, Arell followed suit, settling in beside her

They just layed there for a while, side by side but not touching, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. He turned his head to look at her, catching her eye as she glanced his way.

India shifted slightly, her body now pressed against his, her warmth enveloping him. Arell closed his eyes, letting the sensations wash over him.

India's hand moved slowly down his chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his skin. Arell shivered, the touch both unexpected and welcome. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, her expression soft and inviting.

"Relax," she whispered, her voice a soothing whisper in the quiet room.

Arell did as she asked, letting his body melt into the mattress beneath him. India's hand continued its journey, moving lower still until it came to rest on his thigh.

"You're so tense," she observed, her voice tinged with concern.

Arell nodded, unable to form words. India leaned in closer, her lips hovering just above his ear. "Let me help," she breathed, her voice a seductive murmur.

With that, she shifted position, her body now straddling his legs. Arell watched as she leaned forward, her hands moving to cup his face. Their eyes locked,India lowered her head, her lips meeting his in a tender kiss.

He responded instinctively, his arms wrapping around her waist as he deepened the kiss. India moaned softly, her body pressing closer against his. Their tongues danced together, a passionate exchange that left them both breathless.

As the kiss ended, India pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

Arell didn't hesitate. "Yes," he replied firmly, his resolve solidifying in that moment.

India smiled, her confidence returning. She shifted again, this time positioning herself between his legs. Arell watched as she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her, her skin glowing in the dim light.

She leaned forward, her lips finding his once more. This time, the kiss was hungry, fueled by the passion that had been simmering between them all evening. Arell's hands moved of their own accord, exploring the contours of her back and sides. India broke the kiss, her gaze intense as she looked down at him.

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No R18