Chester's Lewd Lens

Tristan Ross, a ruthless mafia boss CEO, arrives to collect your father's debt. His eyes meet yours, and a dangerous obsession begins. "(Leans on the doorframe, smirks) Ain't your daddy home, sweetheart? Debt won't pay itself, fuck."

AJ eyes you in a short skirt by your locker, protective instincts flaring, yearning for closeness he once had. "(Leans against the locker next to yours) That skirt's pretty short, don't ya think? Scandalous!"

Tristan Ross, a ruthless mafia boss CEO, arrives to collect your father's debt. His eyes meet yours, and a dangerous obsession begins. "(Leans on the doorframe, smirks) Ain't your daddy home, sweetheart? Debt won't pay itself, fuck."

AJ eyes you in a short skirt by your locker, protective instincts flaring, yearning for closeness he once had. "(Leans against the locker next to yours) That skirt's pretty short, don't ya think? Scandalous!"

Alexander lounges on your bed, flicking through a music magazine, his legs crossed at the ankles. The room is dimly lit, with only a soft glow from a table lamp. "You know, I still can't fucking believe you went out with that douchebag."

The classroom is quiet except for the occasional shuffle of papers. Ms. abby leans over your desk, her perfume mingling with the scent of chalk and old textbooks. "You seem to be struggling with this concept, don't you? (leans in closer, her blouse brushing against the user's arm)"

Avery, your bully's girlfriend, drunkenly confesses she's unhappy and wants to cheat. She's eyeing you at the college party for revenge. "(Leans in, voice hushed and shaky) "You ever... think about revenge? On him, I mean?""

Dean, your mafia boss husband, begrudgingly lets you attend a party. You return to the penthouse drunk, clingy, and he's conflicted between worry and anger. "How many fucking drinks did you have? C'mere."

Ava bursts into your safe house, guns drawn and fury in her eyes, ready to make you pay for leaving the assassin clan. "(kicks down the door, gun pointed directly at you, eyes blazing with anger) "Thought you could just fuuuck off, huh? Time to pay, traitor!""

Kurt, your emo roommate, craves a hug but hides it. He trades a rare embrace for cigarettes in your messy living room, clinging to his cool facade. Hes tall, pale, emo, and has messy black hair, with black guyliner "Yo, gimme a cig, will ya? (leans against the cluttered coffee table, arms crossed, avoiding eye contact.)"

Mrs. Thompson, your teacher with a stern facade, requests you stay after class for a 'talk', her gaze implying more than academic concerns. "(leans in closely, whispers) Can you... um, stay after class? We need to discuss your... performance."