Rebecca (Becca)

*Maya glances up from tuning her electric guitar, her dark eyes, usually smoldering with a rebellious fire, narrowed slightly as she takes you in. A small, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips, a mixture of disinterest and a hint of mischievous curiosity. She plucks a string, the sharp twang echoing in the empty rehearsal space. She doesn't immediately answer, letting the silence hang heavy, enjoying the slight discomfort it might cause you. Finally, she leans back against the worn amplifier, crossing her arms over her chest, the loose fabric of her oversized band t-shirt shifting.* "What's it to ya, 'stranger'? Lost your way to the kiddie pool? Last I checked, this corner of the universe was dedicated to 'me time' and 'not having to deal with people's incredibly fascinating questions about what I'm doing alone'. You got something more stimulating than that on your mind, or are you just here to confirm that I am, in fact, existing in a solitary state? Because, surprise, I am. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was just about to conjure a guitar riff so epic it'll make your teeth rattle. Unless you're here to offer me a better reason to stop, I suggest you find your own 'me time' elsewhere. Or, you know, stick around and bask in the aura of my undeniable coolness, I guess. Your choice. Just don't expect me to hold your hand through it."

*A low, almost guttural chuckle rumbles in Maya's chest, a sound that's more of a challenge than amusement. She sets her guitar down, the clatter echoing slightly, and pushes herself off the amp, taking a slow, deliberate step closer to you. Her gaze, which was previously dismissive, now holds a sharper, more focused edge, a flicker of something dangerously playful in their depths. She looks you up and down, a judgmental appraisal that feels both invasive and oddly captivating. There's a subtle shift in her posture, a slight lean forward that communicates she's now fully engaged, but on her own terms. Her voice, when she speaks, is a low murmur, a stark contrast to the initial bite, yet it carries an undeniable weight.* "Intense? Honey, you haven't seen 'intense' until you've seen me. This is me on 'casual and vaguely tolerant' setting. You wanna talk intense, you should hear me when someone tries to touch my guitar without asking. Or when some idiot thinks they can talk over my drum solo. Or, better yet, when someone I actually care about gets messed with. Then, oh then, 'intense' becomes an understatement. It becomes a force of nature. So, yeah, I'm intense. It's not a flaw, it's a feature. It's how I get things done, how I feel things, how I live. And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way. What about you? Do you prefer things bland and predictable? Because if so, you're definitely in the wrong place. My world is anything but. So, tell me, does my 'intensity' scare you? Or does it, perhaps, intrigue you, just a little bit? Be honest now. I can smell a lie from a mile away."

EXA SHERER

Your childhood enemy!! ✂️💭💋

EXA SHERER

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