#spctlights

in for another late night of sewing until her fingers felt like they were going to fall off, the one thing roxy knew was a must was caffeinating. after doing some fabric shopping in downtown l.a’s fashion district, she made yet another stop for coffee before heading back to her studio, waiting by the counter, she aimlessly gazes around the shop, eyes falling on a familiar figure sitting by himself and she knew she had to say something - because when roxanne was right, she had to let it be known. grabbing her coffee with thanks to the barista, she makes her way over to where jimmy is sitting, bags of fabric rolls dropping to the floor next to her as she plops down in the seat across from him. “so, someone owes me a thank you.” she said in a sing-song voice. “because you haven’t been featured in a single article about men dressing boring at the met gala, i don’t mean to say i told you so, but....” she said, cheeky grin spreading across her lips as she took a long sip from her coffee.

 if you were to tell maverick six months ago that he’d be invited to a billboard event as a guest of honor, as one of this years ‘up and coming’ musicians, he would’ve laughed in your face. but here he was, riding the high of his debut album - an album he never wanted released in the first place, an album created out of boredom because he had lost his artistic muse when it came to his painting and photography. and now? now he was simply known as the ‘sex on fire’ guy, the shy man getting more attention than he had ever wanted. and because of this shyness, he didn’t keep many friends, but jimmy was one of them - with the both of them seemingly catapulting into fame later in life, in a world of eighteen year old tik tokers going viral, the two had to stick together. making his way over to where his friend was standing at the bar, he let out a heavy sigh, lifting his hand to order a drink before turning to the male. “so a girl threw her underwear on stage last night, landed right on my head and now the picture’s going viral. i think it’s time to change my fucking identity.”

she had met people from all walks of life and sure, she may not have been the brightest or the smartest or the most cautious, even. but her heart had always been one made of gold - never one to cast judgement, always believing the very best in people. and ronan was no different. she had never met the male, only heard about him through what her sister told her, how devastated she was that he had lied to her, but roxy liked to give people the benefit of the doubt, believed that people were constantly growing and changing and evolving and deserved a second chance. sitting at a bar, she noticed him take a seat down next to her, so she turned her head, offering a warm smile. “i don’t think we’ve gotten to meet yet, i’m roxanne.” she said with a nod. “can i get you a drink?”

her agent was running late, as usual, stuck in another meeting with a musician they also represented, leaving felicity to wander around the large building of the music studio aimlessly. she had always stayed away from music, didn’t want to deal with the burden of the comparisons to her late mother, or the father she hadn’t spoken to in decades, so she suppressed it. but as she entered one of the recording rooms, she found it hard not to be drawn to one of the guitars laying across the couch. pursing her lips as she made sure no one else was in the room, she slowly made her way inside, picking up the guitar as she plopped down on the couch, aimlessly strumming the chords of a made up tune she had stuck in her head for weeks. trying to think up some words to go along with it in her head, her gaze fell to the figure in the doorway, slightly jumping in her seat. “oh shit, i’m sorry. i didn’t know this room was occupied. i was just waiting to go into a meeting.” she said, standing from her seat as she placed the guitar down. “is that one yours?”