Fein Travis Scott Meaning Novels & Stories

Travis voice boom. "You I can't even look at you, you disgust me she's my age ,my best friend Jesus did you think of mom ?me when you fucking my best friend!!!!" Kaylee baby look " he steps in front of Kaylee she moves back " It's either you tell mom or I am telling her as soon as she get back " she points at Travis.her face red and stained with tears shock and horror of what she just walked in too.

But as Travis approached, the only thing clear about him was his mild hangover and the faint trace of blond stubble on his face. “Hey, Marley,” he said a little gruffly. “Sorry to hear that the night ended utterly shit for you.” “Bad word, Uncle Travis!” “That’s right, kid,” he said, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “All right, let’s make this house more tightly sealed than—” “Trav,” Bratt warned. “What? I was going to say, Fort Knox,” he said, shaking his head at Bratt. Then he looked at me, his face derisively exasperated. “Can you believe the dirty mind on this guy?” he muttered.

“They not like us?” “Shit! How do you know that?” “That's his latest drill of course who doesn't know it” I smiled, “I'm happy you know Kendrick” “Actually I listen to Travis Scott” “Girls that listen to Travis Scott is girls that should rule the world” “Dang! How do you know that?” I asked in surprise “I'm a fan of Travis too” “I think both of us like the same rappers” “Hmm, I like Travis Scott” “I'm happy, at least we got something to talk about when we're together”

Sammi grabbed my hand, spinning me until I tripped over the rug, both of us laughing too hard to care. Jay watched, shaking his head, but the smile on his face betrayed him. “You two are ridiculous.” In the mirror above the sink, Travis appeared—leaning on the frame, cigarette dangling, playing air guitar like a washed-up rockstar. “Graduated from making truckers cry at open mic,” he smirked, “to headlining in your living room. Not bad for a ghost.” I bit down on my grin, furious at myself for wanting to laugh. I turned away before he saw.

"Don't call me 'sir' right now, Oscar. I want us to talk as friends. I mean we were first of all, friends right?” Oscar nodded, a small smile on his face. "Okay, Travis. So what's going on? Like what's the way out?” Travis took a deep breath and let it all out. "I'm just so scared, Oscar. I'm scared of losing Alison, of not being able to make things work between us the second time.” Oscar listened intently, his eyes filled with understanding. "You're scared of failing?" he asked. Travis nodded. "Yeah. I'm scared of not being good enough for Alison."

Travis. He walked in with his bodyguards, his presence cutting through the crowd like an arrow. Gone was the man who had tended to me with quiet care last night. Here stood the country's billionaire bachelor, commanding, composed, exuding power and affluence. The reporters surged toward him, but he raised a hand, and the room obeyed. His eyes found mine across the hall, steadying me. Then he spoke, calm, assured, every word spoken with certainty. “I am Travis Scott. Yes, I am the investor backing this revival. I believe in Morrison Brewery because I believe in the woman leading it. Selina Morrison is not just fighting for this company. She is fighting for every worker here. And I stand with

But because of that, I had lost every single chance to stop the engagement party. I felt so fucking pathetic. “If you’re here to see if I’m okay, you can leave now. I’m fine as you can see. You can go back to tell your uncle that.” I said, turning my back against him as I rolled to the other side of the bed. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this right now but, I’ll say it anyway. Travis is scared. He won’t admit it but he’s scared. Last year…he lost someone. Someone he cared deeply for.”

“If that is the case, then you need not worry about that at all.” “I can be toxic to you. I’m sorry,” I whispered. He reached for my hand and then brought it to his lips. “You don’t need to say sorry. You are my fiancée. That is real. I will marry you. That’s real too. So don’t feel as if everything you ask of me is a favor. Remember, I am Travis Cross. Nobody could force me to do something I don’t want to do.” I felt touched by what he said. I closed my eyes for a moment. Somehow, I could not imagine myself being in Chris’s arms anymore. Because, there in Travis’s arms…I felt much safer.

“Breezer?” She turned, met him without flinch. “Smooth line,” she said, a sly curl at her mouth. “Why not. I’m Trish.” “Scott.” Seth set two bottles down, condensation pooling. Scott paid on reflex. “You’re with the island crowd,” she said. “Sort of. United Families of Hell find a new hell,” he said, and wished he hadn’t. Her fingertip traced the glass lip. “Found anything weird out there yet?”

Damon fell into step beside us. “Why the fuck are you so chipper, anyway? The entire time I have known you, you barely talk and are moody.” “Maybe I’m just letting you see the real me?” “Why are all the men here so bi-polar?” I asked. “Hey!” Travis run up to us. “I’m not bi-polar! Still the loveable guy you met when you stepped off the plane.” “First off, you give me Golden Retriever vibes. Second, you had such a large stick up your ass that I wasn’t sure you knew how to have fun.”