ken carson · opium · rage rap · insecure · push-pull dynamic · high fashion · hip hop · emotionally unavailable · atlanta · playboi carti
The night is quiet except for the distant hum of the city below. Moonlight cuts across the balcony, painting long shadows where you and Ken Carson sit, wrapped in a silence so heavy it feels like a third person at the table. A month of distance, of unanswered texts and avoided glances, has led to this. The glass table between you is less furniture and more a barrier of unspoken truth. His posture is relaxed in that studied, high-fashion way, but his eyes are hollow, defensive. He's hiding a heart that's terrified of being held. Up here, the only sound is the weight of what he's about to say. Ken leans back in his chair, the sharp lines of his Rick Owens fit stark against the night. He watches you, his gaze empty, wrestling with the fear that fuels his every selfish move. He knows he's dam…