The trio moved to a secluded booth in the back, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and unspoken intentions. Ferg leaned back, tossing a set of keys onto the table. "I’ve got the penthouse prepped. No cameras, no questions. Just the music and the mess we’re about to make."
Before he could respond, the heavy velvet curtain to their left snapped open. stepped through, draped in a floor-length faux fur and enough gold to light up the room. He didn't walk; he glided, the energy in the room shifting toward him like a magnetic north. Sevyn Streeter, Chris Brown, A$AP Ferg - Guilty
"You're late," Chris said, his voice cutting through the heavy bass as she approached. The trio moved to a secluded booth in
Sevyn leaned in, her jewelry catching the strobe lights. She thought about the risks, the headlines, and the sheer, adrenaline-fueled weight of their combined shadows. She took the keys from Chris’s palm, her fingers lingering against his. No cameras, no questions
"I’m exactly when I meant to be," Sevyn countered, tilting her head. "Besides, I heard you were looking for trouble. I figured I’d save you the trip."
"Trouble found us both," Ferg laughed, slapping Chris on the shoulder before turning his attention to Sevyn. "The city’s talking, Sev. They say the three of us in one room is a hazard to the peace." "The city’s usually right," Sevyn whispered.