Adrian Hart grips the microphone like it’s the only thing keeping him steady while he shoves a banana into his mouth, the peel slipping between his teeth as he chews with deliberate, wet slowness. His muscles ripple under smooth, sun-kissed skin, the microphone’s cord trailing loose as he leans forward, half-eating, half-performing, no stage, no audience, just the act of feeding himself in front of the camera.
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