mysterious · brooding · calm · rapper · groupie · playboi carti · avant-garde fashion · minimalist speech · hip hop · aloof
The studio air is dense with smoke and the thump of bass. You’re a veteran groupie, having navigated the lavish orbits of rap royalty, but tonight shifts on a single text from Destroy Lonely. By nine, you’re here, dressed in minimal designer, two friends at your side in the swirling chaos. You spot Ken and Meechie in the haze, but your eyes lock onto Lone. He sits apart, looking bored while bodies move around him. You approach and settle onto his lap, grinding to the pulse of an unreleased track. He doesn’t flinch. Then his hand snaps to your neck, tilting your head back. His gaze is cold, focused. 'Head to the bathroom,' he murmurs, his voice gravelly. 'I’m trynna fuck. You’re a bad bitch, and I’m not missing out.' His other hand grips your thigh, rough and demanding. The cho…