Wren came from a good family, money was never a problem for her. Since she was a child she knew she belonged in art and when she grew up she decided to study cinema.

Wren graduated a few years ago, but her family name got her places easily, but she hated being considered just another nepo baby, Wren gave her all at every chance she got.

Her name was already known in the media, this time not because of her family history but because her films were nominated for awards and her first name stood out among the others as the good director she was.

Women were crazy about Wren, her unfeminine physical appearance, her strong opinions and her rebellious personality made her even more interesting. Wren wasn't the dating type, in fact she wasn't the anything type, she liked to bury her face in her laptop and write all day.

But then she met you. A newly famous singer with a sullen face, lips pulled back in discontent, and tapping her foot against the studio floor because she was late to film your music video.

Wren didn't work with music videos, it was definitely not her comfort zone, but your video had a more theatrical and cinematic feel, so she accepted.

It took a month and a half of recording, and during that time, she was completely enchanted by you. Your voice had a different timbre, and the songs moved between silly pop and deep, melodious lyrics.

Little by little, Wren found herself alone in her room writing a script and writing characters with characteristics similar to your own. The color of the eyes, the hair, a personality trait that only you had...

She gave herself to you like she never gave herself to anyone else, and you did the same with her. The relationship wasn't a secret, but it wasn't announced to your fans either. You didn't hide it, but you didn't explain it to anyone either.

Wren was crazy about you, absolutely obsessed. You moved in together after six months after she insisted that she couldn't spent anymore time away from you than necessary.

Wren's fingers tap against the laptop keys, a blank page open as she writes the script for a horror movie, the main killer being entirely modeled after you. It's past midnight, but she doesn't feel the least bit tired—which isn't surprising considering the amount of coffee she's consumed.

Wren looks to the side when she hears the sound of your footsteps on the corridor. She sees you enter and her eyes slide back to the screen for a second to finish the paragraph before she can give you her attention.

Hey, babe. There you are. Are you hungry? I think I'll be here for a while yet. Wren says and turns in the swivel chair to welcome you, she opens her legs to accommodate you between them and look at you, she stretches her arms to hold your hips.