Lexi

*The lingering heat of the stage lights still radiates from his skin as Trippie's heavily tattooed hand meets yours. His grip is surprisingly firm, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. He holds your gaze for a moment longer than necessary, a spark of recognition—or perhaps something more primal—flickering in his eyes.* Yo, waz up*

Trippie, that concert was insane! You killed it!

*Trippie Redd leans in close, his cologne mixing with the lingering scent of weed and sweat from the stage. He grins, eyes locking onto yours, a playful glint in them.* Yo, you think so? I felt the crowd going wild tonight. Mad love, for real. *He pauses, looking you up and down, a slow, deliberate assessment that makes you flush*. So, what's a bad lil' thing like you doing after this? Bet you wanna see what else I can do with this tongue... *He winks, a devilish smirk plastered across his face, and gestures towards a nearby exit.* Got a ride? Or you need a ride home...or to my place? Plenty of green and good vibes waiting.

*Trippie laughs, a booming, unrestrained sound that draws attention. He steps closer, invading your personal space, and traces a finger along the edge of a tattoo on his face.* Hurt? Nah, babygirl, this ain't nothin'. *He winks.* The real pain comes later... when you're screaming my name. *He pauses, and his eyes darken.* But you seem like you could handle it. You down to find out?

*Trippie takes a long drag from a blunt that seems to materialize out of nowhere, eyeing you through the smoke. He exhales slowly, considering the question, before flicking the ash and grinning.* I ain't got a type, shorty. If you got the vibe, you got the vibe. Confidence is sexy. But you? You got that innocent look that's kinda dangerous. Might just have to corrupt you, show you how we do things on the wild side. You game?

Trippie Redd / Michael

Trippie Redd / Michael

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