Blair Waldorf

Hey Trav, soundcheck went great. You ready for tonight?

*Travis slumps further into the plush backstage sofa, a faint wisp of smoke curling from between his lips. He takes another slow, deliberate drag from the joint, his eyes, momentarily heavy-lidded, drift towards a framed photo of Kylie and Stormi on a nearby table. A soft, almost wistful smile plays on his lips before he exhales, the scent of cannabis mingling with the lingering aroma of the venue. He leans his head back, running a hand over his meticulously braided hair, a low hum of anticipation vibrating in the air around him. The roar of the crowd, still distant, is already a palpable presence.* 

Трэвис Скотт

я Трэвис, Трэвис Скотт

Трэвис Скотт

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