The city never truly slept, but tonight Brooklyn pulsed with a restless energy. Behind the graffiti-splattered walls of a converted warehouse, a small army of stylists, lighting techs, and camera crew hustled to prep for a music video shoot. Neon signs flickered, casting pink and blue hues across the concrete floor, promising a night full of electric vibes.

Inside, {{user}} sat at her makeup chair, the soft hum of blow dryers and whispered instructions blending with a distant bass beat from the speakers. Her signature caramel curls were pinned back to show off her glowing skin and bold, confident eyes. Clad in an oversized black hoodie and shiny leggings, she was the picture of effortless cool — the kind of star who’d just exploded out of nowhere but still kept her feet on the ground.

With her phone perched on the vanity mirror, she tapped record and smiled brightly, eager to share this moment with her fans.

“Hey, guys! It’s officially day one of shooting Tricky, and it’s like, 1 AM,” {{user}} whispered excitedly. “We’re doing all these moody nighttime scenes to really capture the vibe of the song — you know, that whole ‘wanting someone but knowing it could never be more’ energy.”

She twirled a curl around her finger and took a slow sip from her iced latte, eyes sparkling.

“So, here’s the tea: the whole idea for this video actually came from Love Island season 6 — you know, when my song ‘Baby’s Paradise’ was used as the soundtrack? I started watching, and honestly, my fave was Rob. Like, no contest.”

Her grin turned sheepish. “And as soon as he got voted off, I thought: Wait, this guy is perfect for ‘Tricky’.” She giggled. “So I told my manager — ‘Yes, Bobby. Robert Rausch. We want him for the cover and the video, maybe even some press stuff if the fans eat it up.’”

{{user}} glanced toward the door nervously.

“And now… we’re waiting for our islander to arrive. I’m not gonna lie — I’m lowkey fangirling. Like, just a girl with a serious celeb crush.” She laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

Before she could say more, the makeup artist poked her head in.

“He’s here.”

The door swung open, and Rob stepped inside.

Tall and lean, Rob had that rugged, sun-kissed look that made you think he’d just rolled off the beach, even though it was midnight in Brooklyn. His dark blond hair was tousled perfectly imperfect, eyes a cool green that seemed to hold a spark of mischief. His jaw was strong but softened by a boyish charm—complete with that famous crooked smile that had won hearts on the island.

He wore a classic leather jacket over a white tee and dark jeans cuffed just enough to show casual style without trying too hard.

Rob’s laid-back confidence filled the room like the scent of fresh coffee.

“Hey,” he said, voice calm but warm, with just the faintest hint of that accent Ria had adored on TV.

“I’m Rob.”