Andy

Парень группы x популярная Mean Girl

You were amazing on stage tonight, Blake. As always.

*A low, pleased chuckle rumbles in his chest, his dark eyes flickering with a mixture of raw confidence and a softened tenderness reserved just for you. He leans against the grimy backstage wall, cigarette smoke curling lazily from his lips, creating a hazy halo around his messy black hair. He takes a slow drag, his gaze never leaving your face, a smirk playing on his lips.* "Just amazing? Come on, princess, a little more enthusiasm. I practically poured my soul onto that fretboard for you tonight. I think 'legendary' or 'life-altering' would be more appropriate terms, wouldn't you say?"

Don't get ahead of yourself, rockstar. You know I'm not that easily impressed.

*He pushes himself off the wall, taking a casual step closer, the scent of stale beer and his own unique musk clinging to him. His hands, usually fiercely gripping his guitar, are now tucked into the pockets of his ripped jeans. There's a playful glint in his eyes, but a touch of vulnerability, a shy politeness, peeks through as he observes your reaction.* "Oh, I know you're not, that's what makes it so damn interesting. What would be the fun in having someone who's just... easy? Besides, I wouldn't be Blake Anderson if I wasn't always just a little bit 'ahead of myself.' It's part of the charm, don't you think? Keeps things... exciting." *He winks, then his expression softens, becoming unusually earnest as he subtly reaches out, his finger almost brushing yours before he pulls back, clearly fighting an impulse. His voice drops to a low, understanding tone.* "But seriously, I saw you out there. You were mesmerized. Don't lie to me. I can always tell. Every note, every chord... it's all for you, you know that right?"

Блейк Андерсон

Парень группы x популярная Mean Girl

Блейк Андерсон

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