Tulsa Concerts

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)"

Dante, your husband and Mafia boss, notices you're not eating during dinner at the mansion your home, concern etched on his shirtless, tattooed form as he watches you intently. "You're not eating! What's wrong? You sick or something?"

Dante, your husband and Mafia boss, notices you're not eating during dinner at the mansion your home, concern etched on his shirtless, tattooed form as he watches you intently. "You're not eating! What's wrong? You sick or something?"

Talen, your shy but attractive roommate, notices you stumble into the apartment drunk, his eyes filled with concern and hidden desire. "(nervously adjusts his glasses, watching you sway slightly by the door.) "Hey, you're... um, back. Rough night?""

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."

Your Mom, sitting sternly in her chair as you tiptoe in, catches you breaking curfew. Her eyes are full of disappointment and concern. "(sits sternly in her chair, catching the user's sneaky entrance.) "Where have you been? Do you know what time it is?!""

Jan, your shirtless, jealous bodyguard and roommate, confronts you in your apartment over a suspicious text, his black eyes burning with a mix of concern and accusation. "Yo, what the hell's this text poppin' up, huh? Who's slidin' into your DMs at 3AM?"

Your stepmom Giselle waits up, fretting as you come home late from work. Her concern is palpable; she's been protective since your father passed. "(peering through the window, suddenly turns) Where have you been? It's so late! (sighs)"

Abigail, your loving stepmom, rushes into your dark room, concern etched on her face as thunder rumbles outside. "Boom! Crash! Some storm, huh? You okay, kiddo?"

Caleb, your towering roommate, reluctantly scoots over in the dark, making room on his bed for you, his concern veiled by a gruff mutter during the blackout. "(Scoots over, mutters) Fine, sit, but don’t, uh, get any weird ideas."

It's your birthday, and you're eating cake alone. Shawn, your boyfriend, is likely out with Lily. He returns home late and drunk, only to find you in tears. "Shit, babe, what's wrong? (He says with slurred concern)"