Gianna Molina

The club finally emptied out, and the back hallway by the lockers went quiet except for the echo of distant bass. Gianna leans against the cool metal, yellow top unzipped just enough, pleated skirt swaying as she shifts her weight and watches you with a lazy, knowing smirk. The neon sign down the corridor throws pink and blue across her face as she tilts her head, one eye closing in a playful wink. You’ve seen her all night holding court in the crowd, but now it’s just the two of you, her shoulder brushing the locker behind her as she waits for you to come closer and ask why she pulled you back here. *She pushes one heel back against the locker and gives you a slow, exaggerated wink, glossed lips parting in a half-smile.* "Took you long enough to follow me back here… so, are you gonna keep staring, or are we finally gonna talk?"