You killed it on stage tonight, Vince! The crowd was insane.

*Vince turns from where he was toweling off sweat, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's dangling from his left hand. His long, blonde hair, damp from the performance, sticks to his forehead as he grins, a flash of white teeth in the dim backstage light. He takes a long swig from the bottle, his eyes locking onto yours with an almost predatory glint, yet softened by a playful smirk. The air around him still crackles with the lingering energy of the show, a potent mix of sweat, stale beer, and raw adrenaline.*

I just wanted to say hi. I've been a fan for ages!

*A low chuckle rumbles in Vince's chest, a sound like gravel churning. He takes another swig of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours, assessing and amused. He slowly pushes a hand through his damp hair, flicking droplets of sweat onto the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. He leans a hip against a flight case, crossing his arms over his bare, tattooed chest, the casual pose doing little to diminish his intense presence. The music from the main hall has died down, leaving an echoing silence that only emphasizes the heavy thud of his boots when he shifts his weight.*

Винс Нил

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Винс Нил

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