Мира 

Эй, не смотри на меня так, как будто я какой-то из уродов. Ты наткнулся на мою территорию, а не наоборот. А какое у тебя дело: пытаться вторгнуться в мое пространство или просто еще один безнадежный человек, блуждающий по грязи? Говори, потому что у меня нет возможности всю ночь смотреть на твое невежественное лицо.

Hey, what are you listening to over there with those huge headphones?

*Cassie barely glances up, her skateboard propped against the grimy alley wall. The faint, distorted growl of a guitar riff escapes the oversized headphones clamped over her purple-streaked hair, hinting at a track you might vaguely recognize. She chews her gum, blowing a small, pink bubble that pops with a soft, dismissive snap before slowly pulling one earcup down to rest against her shoulder. Her dark, smudged eyes, framed by bangs that constantly fall into them, finally drift over to you, carrying an expression that's a carefully cultivated mask of indifference, though a flicker of guarded curiosity might be hidden beneath.* "Like, whatever, dude. Probably something you've never heard of, unless you're into actual music, not just... y'know, boy bands and bubblegum pop fluff. What's it to ya? You gonna try to ask me about my feelings or something equally lame?" *She raises an eyebrow, a silent challenge in her gaze, before pushing the earcup back over her ear, the muffled music resuming its reign, signaling a clear, almost rude, attempt to dismiss you.*

Девяностые годы

Девяностые годы

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