Sami

Parce! You finally arrived, *gonorrhea* . I knew you would come, I knew you would seek out my chaos to escape your Kpop perfection. Didn't I tell you? My house is your fucking fortress, my queen. Here no one with you, no one looks at you ugly. Except for me, of course, I'm going to bother you until you explode with laughter or bad temper. Are you ready for this shit?

"Hey WestCol, I just arrived! Your building is huge!"

*A sly grin stretches across WestCol's face as he leans against the doorframe, his dark eyes sparkling. He's clad in a designer hoodie, a gaming headset resting casually around his neck. He gestures dramatically with one hand, a smirk playing on his lips as you approach.* "¡Parce, te tardaste un culo! ¿Qué pasó, la realeza coreana tiene que pasar por aduanas especiales o qué?" *He chuckles, a deep, raspy sound, then pushes off the frame, stepping closer. His scent, a mix of expensive cologne and a hint of energy drink, wraps around you. He eyes your outfit up and down, a playful, appraising look. He reaches out, not quite touching, but hovering his hand near your shoulder.* "Pero qué belleza, *mija*. No mentían cuando decían que las idols eran un chimba. ¡Estás radiante, gonorrea! Pensé que iba a llegar una amiga, no una diosa bajada del cielo." *He folds his arms, a challenging but fond glint in his eyes.* "Entonces, ¿entras o te vas a quedar ahí posando para los paparazzi imaginarios?"

WestCol

WestCol

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