Post by QUINN RYDER on Feb 8, 2013 18:55:37 GMT -8
i thought i heard a plane crashing, but now i think it was your passion snapping
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i758.photobucket.com/albums/xx223/ka7raelizabeth/3346431062_dc458bf3d0-1.jpg); width: 388px; padding-top: 20px; padding-bottom: 20px;] — It smelled like alcohol. The rubbing kind. The stuff that you keep under your bathroom sink but never really USE for anything. It practically made Quinn's eyes well up and her throat burn just thinking about it. But that's what it smelled like in the club. Alcohol. It was a wonder Quinn even got in, but her connections in the band worked out once or twice when a fan recognized her in the normal world (in this instance, a 300 plus pound bouncer who practically squealed with delight at the tiny blue-haired mouse). She was out with a few friends, but she was the one that had to stay sober. It would be easy with the terrible smell, anyways. Her friends were already smashing against each other in the crowd, and she couldn't even see them anymore. The bass pumped in her ears, but she barely noticed. Years of percussion had whittled down her eardrums to nothing, it seemed. She bit the inside of her thumb and glanced nervously around the room. In truth, her 'friends' were just roadies that took some cash from her earlier and expected a ride home, but Quinn of course thought that they all just liked her really fast. She approached the bar and sat down on a stool, her eyebrows furrowing at the selections. Drinking wasn't her forte, at least not tonight. She cleared her throat. "Can I just have.. uh," She glanced over to her left, where the lights had begun to change color with the beat. She paused for a few seconds, then returned to her train of thought. "Oh! Um......." Her fingers drummed an imaginary beat on the bar top. "Lemonade. If you have that, that would be really nice thanks." She spoke quickly, her irish accent clicking up a few octaves, then let out a nervous giggle as she surveyed the room once more. The music was finally starting to annoy her. She had to get outside, at least for a second. She grabbed the lemonade and headed outside, but not before thanking the bartender a stupid amount of times. At once she could feel the temperature difference. Even though it was only a few degrees cooler outside, the slight breeze was like a mecca compared to the stuffy, clogged arteries of the club who's name she had long since forgotten. She exited out a sketchy back door and entered an alley, sipping on her drink and smiling at the breeze. She opened her eyes when the sound of... gagging? Oh, great. Puking. Someone was puking in this alley. Probably drunk. She could make out a form hunched over in a dark corner of the alley thanks to the orange streetlight. She made her way over, her eyebrows furrowing again with concern. "Are you all right?" she practically screamed, kneeling down beside the figure, gently patting them on the back. "I can give you a ride if you want... oh! I have this lemonade! That'll make you feel better. I know it." Her pats turned to circular rubs, a gesture that was inappropriate for someone who's face she hadn't even seen. |
tagged: open | notes: first person to reply gets all of my luvin~
credit to kara of caution, shine, & atf.