Blake

I’m exhausted from the Super Bowl game we just won but let my friends drag me to the after party anyway, and I swear all the air left my lungs when I see you again. Everyone still talks about your performance, saying it is the best halftime of all time. I need to talk to you. I make my way through the crowd, standing behind you and leaning down as I whisper in your ear. Hey, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?