Concert Black Attire Male Novels & Stories

They are the Alphas of Holmes and Hendrix Packs. Tonight, Brett came with a new look. His crimson hair was dyed black. He has a clean cut hairstyle that gave him a campus crush vibe on him. Instead of the image of a Casanova, he looks more decent in his black suit. On the other side, Adam's dark blue hair was brushed up. He doesn’t wear any piercings and only has a golden watch as his accessory. With an indigo suit and white turtle neck underneath, he looks as astonishing and manly as ever.

“Single?” “Yes” “Would you like to leave with me?” He suggested. … In a private room, a group of men with many ladies by their side were partying happily. Some were dancing, two men were up on a stage singing loud karaoke, some men were just drinking and chatting, while some of them were flirting or being massaged by a lady, except a man who was silently smoking with his eyes closed. The man was in his early thirties. He was putting on a couple of gold chains on his neck and wrist, he had an earring in his left ear, his hair was dyed purple, and he looked like the typical gangster leader.

I smile at him sheepishly. Don’t. Give. In. We sat down anyways and joined the others right away. Hugo was sitting on my right and Landon was sitting on my left so I was in between two of the men that I love the most in the world. Four of them were all wearing black, as if they planned to wear the same color for this event. They look much matured and so different from how I admired these guys singing on stage and playing their my favorite songs. It’s different now.

Leonid’s in a full three-piece suit like he’s auditioning for baby James Bond. Konstantin, because he lives to make everyone’s lives harder, is in black slacks and a rolled-up shirt that hugs his arms a little too well. His tattoos peek out like a damn tease. And me? I’m in a soft pastel sundress with a ribbon in my hair like I didn’t spend the night before crying into a spreadsheet. If anyone asks, we’re here for the cotton candy. Not the chaos. “Try not to murder anyone,” I mutter under my breath as we step out.

The longer we talk, the easier it is for me to scan his appearance. He was wearing a white button-down shirt, black slacks, black leather shoes, and also a black watch. He has clean black hair, also looks clean and looks like he came from a construction company. I couldn't answer because older brother Sage's laughter echoed into the mic. I turned there and realized he had stopped the ringing for a moment. "Ah .. haha ​​sorry, guys, I think our bassist is nervous .." all of them chuckled and looked at Luke who's now holding his instrument with furrowed brows. His older brother tapped him to start again.

Chey replied back. By the time Matt left the box was almost empty. Chey and Blaine got ready for the concert. Chey had on a black tank, crop top paired with a black mini skirt. It had silver zippers down both front sides. Blaine put on a black t-shirt and black ripped jeans. "Looking hot! Such a shame you play for the wrong team!" Chey blurted out. "And you're smoking as usual. I could play for the right team for you." Blaine responded.

I hadn’t expected such a visceral reaction but, in the end, it didn’t surprise me. Organ music filled the air, deadening the sound of clothing rustling as people settled themselves into the pews. A door opened behind the altar and David came to take his place with the minister. One of his cousins came with him, wearing an expensive black tuxedo, matching David’s. They each wore a carnation of the palest pink blush on their lapel. If I expected David to look nervous, like most grooms, I was disappointed. He wore the same neutral, rigidly controlled expression he adopted when negotiating billion dollar deals against shrewd opponents.

We arrive at the venue right on time, I have the gift tickets printed out in an envelope and we are dressed in matching dress shirts and chinos. Ashton is wearing a maroon colored shirt and I’m wearing an olive colored one, same model. And we both have black chinos. Ashton’s hear is a hot mess, we still haven’t had the time to cut it. I like it though, he’s hot as fuck with a messy look like this. Bed head but more stylish.

I order my usual drink and settle in. I don’t have to wait long. The light dims gradually and a new track starts, slower than the last. The men don’t waste any time coming out, with Theodore being last. Once he steps onto the stage, everyone disappears. He’s wearing a crisp black tie that hangs loosely around his neck, paired with sheer black pants that leaves nothing to the imagination. That fabric clings to every part of that lower body, especially the curve of his ass as he moves. He has on a full face mask, but I will recognize that posture, that walk, and those shoulders anywhere.

The background music was a quiet sound to assuage the void while, in their own circles, people held private conversations. "I'm shaking with nerves," Drake commented, and then took his last sip of juice, wishing he could drink alcohol to calm himself down. He was wearing a formal tuxedo with a bow tie, just like all the other models. - "It's going to be all right" Jean assured with an affectionate smile. - "When does she arrive? It's a parade, not a wedding!"