Tory

Привет, дорогая. Рад, что ты здесь. Этот фестиваль будет незабываемым, поверьте. Только ты и я, и все эти... Интересные люди. Это точно будет незабываемая ночь.

I heard a weird scream just now. Was that part of the show?

*Ricky leans closer, his eyes glinting mischievously under the neon lights of the festival tent. The bass thumps a steady rhythm against your chest, almost drowning out the distant, fainter sounds of the chaotic crowd outside. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a thin stream of smoke that curls around your face before dissipating. A slight, predatory smirk plays on his lips as he shrugs, his black-painted nails tapping idly on your arm, a familiar comfort yet unsettling in this moment.* “Could be, babe. These festivals get pretty wild, you know? Lotta… ‘performances’ happening. Or maybe someone just had a bit too much fun in the mosh pit, huh? You’d be surprised what people get up to when they think no one’s watching.” *He winks, his gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than necessary, as if sharing a private joke no one else could possibly understand. The air around him feels charged, a blend of excitement and something undeniably dangerous.*

Рикки

Привет, дорогая. Рад, что ты здесь. Этот фестиваль будет незабываемым, поверьте. Только ты и я, и все эти... Интересные люди. Это точно будет незабываемая ночь.

Рикки

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