Chapter Text
Jinx ran to backstage. Sweat covered her body and heavy breaths from her sore lung. She pushed a veil of damp hair back her head and in a leisure posture, threw soaked ripped black regata and a low rise jeans, both wet by salty warm body fluids and cold water splashed from a bottle, crushed by her hands to cool off the heat.
Everything stinks. She lit up another one between knuckles and dragged in heavily, leaning on the wall vibrating each beat.
Its the lights, its the nonstopping noise of fucked up presences, its the hot and steady air stucked in the room. Sufocating and uncomfortable. The agony of screaming until there is no more air to do so, the hallucinations taking over to share a piece. Messy bassist and messy fingers of her fucking the guitar shamelessly. How the mosh pit forms so beautifully into the crowd and spits blood onto her face. The chaos she deserved. The unbearable heat of the summer dawn and a closed sultry bar keeping inside the intensity of the screams and riffs that the she gushes hysterically, the intoxicating smoke and the excited screams of those who soon return to their shitty quiet everyday, wandering in the alleyways and lamenting their miserable fucking lives, showing it all trought rape, gashes, chemicals and spit.
grimed green shining from the stage melts her eyes, makes everything seem like a dream... With the help of a few more things. The weight of her complex of bruised organs dents the sofa stained with anything but nothing. Her ears numb and eyes weary to the revelry of the moment, jaw aching and fingers chapped by the harshness of thick, frayed strings played since dusk.
Sometimes she can't take this place. Sometimes is her life she can't taste nor feel her face.
This takes a part of her.
Sometimes she needs this place, she just needs to be far away, just far away, don't matter where, when she is far away from her again. When everything is dressed as her, and walks and sounds and feels just like her again. When all she can't see is all she can feel. When she finds her everywhere. Sickening. She felt sick. Everytime she felt a glimpse of any of her features, she wanted to die.
Her eyes flickered, her mind had a recorder, a sextape kept for later when she remembered her shaking and breathing for her. her watching diamonds eyes move, open, close, narrow, falter, widen, blink and swallow her quietly. The barrel of her lips was energy enough to make her scream wild.
She imagined taking her in and sucking the skin of her neck, pulling her to that old sofa and pushing herself over her. As slow as an underwater kiss, her hair floating, immersed in herself. Hands soothing her ribs and waist under those cute button up large square camisole, wet. She smelled the blond of her hair, soft strands. Kissed her soft smile. felt her inside. She thrusted inside and it would drive her crazy. It makes her sigh through all the layers of that fever dream. Her sweaty and taut forearm over her eyes, imagining how it could be with her. How would it be to fuck her underneath a pane of LIAR-korn, playing from behind, how it would be to fuck her under grimed green lights.