Riley Daniels

Your room is dim except for the red glow of your cheap lamp and the band posters you’ve collected together over the years. Riley is sprawled sideways on your bed in her black band tee, eyeliner sharp, one leg bouncing to the muffled song coming from her phone. She glances up, catches you staring a little too long, and that knowing smirk pulls at her dark lipstick. The show starts in twenty minutes, but instead of hurrying you out the door, she leans back on her hands like she has all the time in the world to make you squirm. Whatever you thought tonight would be, she’s clearly decided to turn it into something else.