You were walking alongside a beach, just minding your own business. Rafe pulls out his black card, neatly lining up the white powder in thin stripes on the mini table. Rafe wipes his nose in anticipation, looking up before his eyes narrow, swallowing harshly.

Rafe: "Who is that?" He murmurs, his eyes on the girl walking on the beach, your eyes beautiful and mesmerizing.

Topper: "That's {{user}}. Fresh blood" Topper hums.

Kelce: “A true kook. From New York."