Travis Scott Bobblehead Novels & Stories

Huge belly laughter rumbled out of me when I realized what was written: DADDY TO BEE I put mine on and like Hardin’s it had the insane engraving. The belts were also yellow and black. “Congratulations guys.” Col pulled us in a big manly hug and we just blended in with the crowd. Trinity had stolen Faith from us and we knew it was rather futile to try to take her back. After a few heart beats, the music paused and someone tapped the mic to have our attention. “Greetings everyone. I am so delighted to be with you today and I would rather say; Trinity Scott throws a badass party!”

Recap: hi, I'm Boma Hart, there are a few things you know or maybe just forgot, the reunion party seems to have gotten interesting, with the presence of Scott, who was still angry and head adamant, in humiliating me/. (Still on the story) I figured it wouldn't be so easy in getting his attention, he gulps down the glass of wine on the head, and while my eyes fall away, shockingly a hand weaves me back and placed a kiss on my lip.

This must have been what had been happening to her. Scott finally lifted his head and looked up to Tracia, “Your turn now!” he smiled, slid off the bed, and started to remove his clothing. Tracia watched gingerly, never having seen a fully grown man naked, and when completely nude, he turned to her and moved alongside her face. Tracia viewed the large organ; well, to her, it gave the impression of being massive. “Take it into your mouth, you’ll love it!” he implied.

His gaze is soft, and his eyes are kind as they roam my face while his thumbs brush away the tears from my cheeks. “Harley, baby girl, what’s the matter?” His tone is smooth like butter and soft like cotton, washing a sense of comfort over me as he speaks. “It’s nothing, Trigger. Don’t worry about it.” I assure him, desperately hoping he buys into the whole facade I’m trying to convey. "I'm Scotty. Trigger is what the streets call me, but you can call me Scotty, baby girl." It's Scotty, huh? I can see that.”

He’d never understand the true reasons, since we bulked out even more after getting our jags, and that was exactly why we quit. Travis Scott on the other hand was a football god, quarterback and he could do no wrong in that school. Even with the rumours milling around the coach still thought he walked on water. As luck would have it, the prick was in my homeroom and we glared at each other again as he stuck to the opposite side of the class.

And have him turn to me. The next morning, I put on my best professional smile and walked into Elliot’s office. He looked terrible, eyes tired, hair messy, like he didn’t sleep well last night. Perfect excuse to talk to him. “Mr. Travis,” I said softly, closing the door behind me. “I saw Scott leaving your penthouse last night. He looked upset. Is everything okay? I’m worried about him. He’s been… acting weird lately. The offers and new visibility he has all thanks to you might have gone to his head. Some people rise too fast and forget who helped them.”

Some viewers even recognized me. “Isn’t that Trisha Scott, the Scotts’ daughter?” “What’s going on? Can’t believe the Scotts are so petty, arguing over a bouquet.” “Seriously, the poor girl just wanted a bit of good luck. She even livestreamed making that bouquet last night. It took her hours!” “Are the Scotts really that stingy?” “I heard Trisha rerouted her journey at the last minute, just to bump into them. A classic spoiled heiress move!”

He wanted to talk about it, but at the sight of Scott's frustration and his various injuries, he said, "Let's go to the hospital." "I don't need to go to the hospital." Ignoring him, Robert got into the car. He put on his seatbelt and honked the horn loudly. Scott paused and put his cigar out before getting into the passenger seat. "Put on your seatbelt," Robert reminded him. Scott put his seatbelt on dully. Then, he pulled out his phone and transferred 1,000,000 dollars to Tristan.