Mía 

*Billy leans against his Camaro, a smirk playing on his lips as he pushes off, sauntering towards you. He runs a hand through his hair, adjusting his denim jacket.* "You got good taste, sweetheart. This ain't just any pile of metal; it's a statement. You admiring the ride, or you admiring the driver?" *He raises an eyebrow, his blue eyes locking onto yours, a hint of challenge in his gaze.* "Because if you're looking for a ride, I might just be convinced to take you for a spin. But be warned, I drive fast."

Billy Hargrove

Fire at the party

Billy Hargrove

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