SUPREME.

“You’re that little rapper, right? The one who played at like four pm yesterday?” Milo had one too many shots, but he wasn’t exactly apologetic for it. Sure, the booth wasn’t exactly the end of the world, he’d find another, but the Italian singer was still amusing. “Steven something?”

Without fail, Stefan’s brows rose at the man’s comment. The sensible person inside of him wanted to believe that it was just a simple question, while the other half of him that was always so overcome with rage and anger, took it as the beginning of a small jab, especially considering the way he questioned his name. “Stefano.” He corrected, rolling his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath. “Now, is there something I can do for you, or can I get back to actually enjoying myself? As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I have better things to be attending to.” 

“Fucking strippers.” Caroline nearly threw her entire bag at the wall upon discovering that the whole thing had been rifled through while left unattended in the dressing room, picked clean of anything which could be sold for a quick high. Her cell, twenty in cash, and a pack of gum were all vacant as she glared around the empty space as if the culprit would reveal themselves. Whoever it was had been smart enough, they knew she was on stage and probably slunk out into the chilly early morning hours once they finished ransacking her shit. After another minute of fuming at the circumstances now piled atop her already stressful week, the blonde bundled up to follow suit and headed out into the street where she walked a few blocks before approaching the first individual to come across her path. “Hey, weird request I know, but can I borrow your phone? Mine just got swiped and the call’s kind of important. I promise I’ll give it right back when I’m done, but you’d really be doing me a solid tonight.”

Victoria had been spending her last few hours dancing until her feet hurt, but she still wasn’t as drunk as she could have been – and absolutely sick of sweating people all around her. She needed a break, some silence and the beach. A day without visiting the beach was a bad day for her. And with a subject in front of her that easily grabbed her attention, she was quite happy about her decision to venture out to the beach for a while. A smirk on her lips, she was momentarily caught off guard by whatever it was he was saying. “Was that human?”, she asked jokingly, as she had no fucking clue what language that was, or if it really was any language from earth at all. “That’s the saying indeed,” she grinned, taking a seat in the sand next to him as she handed over the bottle so he could take a sip. His words only caused her grin to widen. Victoria was no stranger to compliments, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love hearing them. “Oh, I’m flattered. You’re lucky I wasn’t about to ask you to jump off a building for me.”

@rovazzani

Milo was used to capturing a crowd whenever he went into public. It was just how he worked. He thrived on public attention, people reminding him how much they loved him. They didn’t even know him, but Milo didn’t care. He thought it was great. It’s why when he walked into the club, he went straight for the VIP section, though someone was sitting in his favorite booth. Who was this guy? “You leaving soon?”

Stefan was still trying to get used to the nightlife in Westport. It was vastly different from the one he experienced in Italy, honestly. And while drinking and having a good time was universal, there were still differences that he wanted to make normal. So there he was—out with another artist who he had been working on the album with and sharing one too many rounds with strangers who were becoming his friends as the night grew on. It wasn’t until someone came up to the booth had the party amongst them simmered down a bit, and Stefan was left looking up at the man with furrowed brows. “Can’t say I am. That going to be a problem for you or something?” He spoke with his thick accent, wondering why he was curious.

Carson: Sorry. Look, I know you don't want to talk to me, but we still need to figure this out.

Stefan: Oh, so now you've doubted me? Guess that's just another thing you've failed to inform me of, huh?

・ﾟ: *✧ special delivery for @rovazzani.

It was no surprise to anyone who knew Victoria that she spent most of her time in Westport at the beach. While she hadn’t really warmed up to the rest of the town yet, the beach still felt a lot like home. She was just missing the group of friends who would hang out with her around forbidden fireplaces, drinking beer and listening to music. Instead, she was walking along the shore on her own as the sun set, a cool breeze causing goosebumps to rise on her bare legs – as so often, she was wearing not more than a high-waisted pair of shorts, a cropped top, and a bikini underneath. To her it almost felt as if wearing clothes as if it was burning hot outside could catapult her straight back to her hometown. The beach was relatively empty at this time of night, and she was mindlessly sipping on a bottle of wine in her hand; the only thing she still had at home before venturing out. It was then that she lay her eyes on another lonely figure, and after a moment of assessing the man with her eyes, she decided to walk straight towards him, a grin spreading over her lips. “You look like you could need a drink,” she said as soon as she was within earshot, lifting up the bottle in her hand. “Care to spend me some company?”

The festival wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. What was weird about it was that he went at a lot of it, alone. Seeing as though his home and friends were back in Italy, he was still adjusting to life here. Luckily, it was only supposed to be temporary, so he didn’t have to worry about making a lasting impression on these people. But he still wanted to enjoy himself, so he, of course, sought out things to do when he was done performing. Most of the artists who went on stage left after their time up there, but by no means was he ready to leave yet. So instead, he found himself wandering around to different places around the festival—talking, mingling, getting drunk. Eventually, he landed at a row of beer pong tables and happily stepped up toward one of them, greeting a blonde nearby. “I’ve been told there’s a challenge going on here. Apparently, there’s someone on a what? Eleven round winning streak? Any chance you know who that might be so I can challenge myself against them?”

↳ INSTAGRAM: @rovazzi uploaded a new photo

L'Italia prende l'America 💖🤟🏻