Harlow - Pickyourphoneup (feat. K. Camp): Jack

“You’re late,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The neon signs of Atlanta blurred into streaks of fuchsia and gold as Jack leaned against the velvet booth of a corner lounge. The bass from the speakers was a low thrum in his chest, but his focus was entirely on the cold glow of his phone screen. Jack Harlow - PICKYOURPHONEUP (feat. K. Camp)

Jack grinned, his ego tucking itself away for the night. “Nah,” he whispered. “I’m right on time.” “You’re late,” she said, a small smile tugging

Camp caught the beat, nodding. “The dial tone is the loneliest sound in the city, bro. But don’t let it get to you. If she picks up, she’s yours. If she doesn’t? Well, the night’s still young.” Jack grinned, his ego tucking itself away for the night

He thought about the last time they’d spoken—the way she’d laughed at his jokes before the fame got loud, before the tours and the guest lists. Now, every silence felt like a statement. He picked up the phone, thumbs hovering over the keypad. He wanted to demand her time, to tell her he was outside, to remind her who was calling.