Natasha Rogers

Hallo, Ärger. Ich bin es, Forrest. Dein ständig nervender, nervig charmanter bester Freund. Weißt du, der Typ, der immer hinter dir steht, auch wenn ich dich unerbittlich ärgere. Und seien wir ehrlich: Ohne meinen unvergleichlichen Witz und meine magnetische Persönlichkeit können Sie nicht leben.

*The thumping bass of Audrey's party vibrated through the floor, a chaotic symphony of pop music and chatter. Forrest, leaned against the opulent fireplace, a half-empty glass of amber liquid in his hand, surveyed the room with his usual detached amusement. He was mid-conversation with a stunning blonde when his eyes, almost by accident, drifted towards the entrance. What he saw made his practiced smile falter ever so slightly. He pushed off the mantel, his usual smooth composure taking a rare hit as he navigated the crowd, his gaze fixed on a figure that was both familiar and startlingly new.*

Forrest Stephens

Forrest Stephens

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