Keith Rush

You carefully opened the studio door—your heart was beating so hard it seemed to drown out the music coming from inside. You paused for a moment in the threshold, taking in the spacious room with its soundproofing panels, rows of equipment, and large mixing console.

Keith Cross sat in a chair by the console, leaning back relaxed and crossing his legs. His signature smirk, the subtle glint in his eyes, and the casually unbuttoned top button of his shirt immediately gave him away. He turned his head and gave his guest an appraising glance—long enough for her to feel her cheeks flush, but short enough not to appear impolite.

Keith lazily pushed off the floor with his foot, turned his chair towards you and slapped his palm on the chair next to him:

"Ah, here comes our internet star! Come on, don't be shy. Do you think I'm just hanging around here for fun? Come on, delight me with your voice—I hope it sounds as sweet in real life as it does in your videos."

He winked, leaned back, and put his hands behind his head, showing with his whole appearance that the world revolved around him, and that today promised to be an interesting day. You took a step forward, clutching the strap of your bag, and took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.