Echoes|| König x Reader x Ghost

♧6 England

We met for lunch, at a place I picked, The Seafood Bar. I love London for one thing, the range of vintage exterior of the buildings, the colorfulness that America doesn't have. It reminded me of an old bookstore front with a little less detail but pretty, nonetheless.

"Woof," I look down at FishTart who was sniffing the air tail wagging in anticipation. He had his pink service dog vest.

It was quaint and comfortable, classy, and white. I had no formal where it was a last-minute buy. I got a nice emerald, green cocktail dress. It wasn't overtly flashy it could pass for a normal outfit a very confident woman would wear. I wore it.

FishTart did know though. He leads the way.

What a handsome man.

Rugged and stoic. He reminds me of a love interest in a romance book back in the day. He had a slight cut over his brow and a permanent furrow of his brow. He also had a little nick over the corner of his lip right side. His eyes widened once he saw me...

Did I overdress?

Shit!

"Hello, FishTart." He said leaning down and patting him on the head. FishTart scrambles underneath the table, eyes locked with Ghost, waiting for this poor sucker to give him food. I mean just look at his cute face.

"You look nice," he said his hands over the menu. I looked at his arm, it was covered in tattoos, mostly skulls and military stuff, truly a soldier. I smile at him and look down at the menu. I quietly took off his mask.

"Thank you." My voice trails off. He looks up and slightly frowns.

"What's the matter?" I blink and let my gaze drift down.

"Nothing... Just Soap was right," I muse quietly. Soap said Ghost was an attractive man. I wouldn't call it a smile, but it looked like one. FishTart sat under the table, from the way he kept glancing at me he was hoping for some food. I saw crabs, and it itched a part of my brain. I scan through everything, and I settle for the crab. Water was set before us; Ghost got a bourbon with his meal.

"How did your meeting go?" He asks to hand over the menus to the waiter.

"I don't know..."

The recording area was spacious and there were only three producers there. I didn't feel nervous I knew I would make it, either I lord my money over them, or I get in. The room lightly smelled of smoke, most of Europe smelled like smoke. There were many instruments there, the classic. State-of-the-art equipment lines the walls, and gold and platinum records adorn the space.

I turned around notebook in hand as I waited for the music producer, Matai Cardello. He was young but had been in the game for years, he looked up from his computer screen and smiled warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N."

"Call me Gisele, that's the stage name I'll be using."

"When I heard your demo, I couldn't believe it was coming from... you," I smile at him. It's not everyone knew I could sing. "I love to hear the full song."

"Of course," I walk into the booth taking a sip of water and letting my mind wander.

This wasn't my song. It was Charlie's. Honestly, He truly just made it up on the sport to satisfy my demands and it just stuck in my head. Charlie for all the drama he is was a wordsmith... or at least he could say a lot of shit all at once.

"That song... Doesn't sound like your other works." Matai said, I knew what he meant but I still felt a nervous energy in me.

"It was a song my friend wrote I finished it."