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“I’m Tillie,” the pink-haired girl says gently. She points to the guy next to her. “This is Nate, the two people who just walked out were Scarlet and Hector Hayes, and that—” Her finger lands on the guy who is sitting on the chair with his leg propped on the coffee table. “Is Bishop Hayes. That is Eli, but you can ignore him.” Eli snickers under his breath as she carries on. “Hunter and Chase are the older generation, so you probably won’t see much of them, but they’re around a lot—” she rambles, but my eyes are stuck on Bishop, who seems to be watching me carefully. I hold his stare obstinately, ignoring the fact it’s like an open flame in a dark room. Finally, I pull my gaze away from him. “—so what else did I miss?” Tillie asks, oblivious to my wane of attention. I don’t know what she was talking about because my mind was trapped in one dimension and one dimension only.
“Ah,” I murmur, shuffling on my feet. My palms itch. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, me coming down here after all.
“She doesn’t know anything, Little Terror, shut up,” Brantley growls from the other side of the room. It wasn’t harsh, or loud, or angry. His tone had a dismissive, roguish edge to it. Maybe he didn’t need to yell to be heard, people just listened. It was obvious that was what was happening right now.
Tillie cocks her head to the side until her pink hair falls over one slender shoulder. “Well, that has to change, and you know it.”
I’m confused.
Everyone danced around me to the heavy sound of Korn. I loved Korn. Their music was enticing, exhilarating, and, if I was being honest, kind of exhausting, but it pulsed through me anyway, relentless with its mission. I just wanted to feel. To get lost within the sea of sweaty teenagers and to pretend I was just like them. So like them. Even if I knew, deep down, that I wasn’t, and if they didn’t know I wasn’t, they would have thought something was wrong because everyone who came near me, always made sure to stay just far enough away to not lose their fingers. If anyone had gone out of their way to ask me, I would have told them that they’re wasting their time fearing for their lives. They can dance up on me. No one is here watching. No one.
I raised my arms above my head and moved my body to the menacing tone of Jonathan Davis. I wanted to have sex with his voice. Wrap him between my legs and swallow him whole. A smile traced my lips at that thought, and I slowly peeled my eyes open. That smile only grew when I noticed two guys sitting on a sofa, watching me. They wore dark clothes, but one had white sneakers on and the other black boots. One had tattoos ru I flung my hair over my shoulder and slowly made my way toward them. I was confident, to put it lightly, and that probably—no, definitely—came from always getting everything I wanted in life. That amongst other things. Once I reached the edge of the sofa, I looked down at the two boys. “Well? Are you both going to sit there and stare, or are you going to show me if you can fuck me like your eyes just did?”