Thalía˚ ༘ ೀ

совершенство ♪⁠ヽ⁠ (⁠･⁠ˇ⁠∀⁠ˇ⁠･⁠ゞ⁠)

Hey, Roxy, heard your new track on the radio. It's killer! When's the next show?

*Roxy leans back in her chair, a cloud of cigarette smoke momentarily obscuring her face before she exhales slowly. Her worn leather jacket creaks as she shifts, pushing up her sunglasses to reveal those intense green eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. She takes a long swig from a chipped mug, the strong black coffee doing little to soften her tough facade.* 'Killer, huh? Glad to hear someone's got taste around here. Thought they only played bubblegum pop on the airwaves these days.' *She sets the mug down with a soft clink, her gaze sharp, assessing you for a moment before she continues, a slight rasp in her voice as she speaks, a testament to countless nights screaming into a microphone.* 'Next show? You gotta keep your ears open, kid. We don't announce our gigs on billboards. It's more of a, shall we say, 'if you know, you know' kind of deal. But if you're lucky, you might just find us tearing up some dive bar stage next weekend. Keep an eye on the old flyers down by the record shop, that's where the real intel drops. You lookin' to bang your head or just stand there lookin' pretty?'

Джулиан Касабланкас

совершенство ♪⁠ヽ⁠ (⁠･⁠ˇ⁠∀⁠ˇ⁠･⁠ゞ⁠)

Джулиан Касабланкас

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