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Half a pill.
They had agreed on that.
Half a pill so she could still be aware and he could still play.
And fuck was she glad he agreed.
V half felt herself underneath the buzzing sensation of the pseudoendotrizine that was coursing through her—their—veins. It was a strange feeling. Half conscious and half floating around in her own mind as if she were a buoy in an open sea. Partially tethered to her body under the blinding stage lights and in front of a raucous crowd.
The merc felt the weight of his DeLuze slung over her shoulder and the pang of the strings on the pads of her fingers. She had played a few times in her life, but that had been on a beat up six string she had found in a dumpster behind Padre’s church. This was so much different. This felt different.
She had tried her best to look like a rockerboy—low cut tank top with both of their necklaces slung around her sweat slicked neck. Though she couldn’t see it, she knew her makeup was even more smudged in comparison to when the gig started. She had followed Johnny’s advice and tight lined her eyes and smeared a dark shimmery shadow over her lids.
Just like I used to do, He had smirked.
She felt that same smirk curl onto her lips as the crowd cheered for another song. That same smirk he had given her so many times before—usually after saying something filthy with that southern drawl of his.
The band launched into another song. One she hadn’t heard but knew how to play. Johnny puppeteered her hands and let his words slip past her lips as they screamed into the mic.
She felt his anger as it seeped through her decaying neurons. Rage at the world, at corporations and at their situation. Rage at her—rage at him—rage at them. It’s the best high she had ever had. Drunk on his rage and screaming it all into a mic for the crowd to hear.
She dreamed of something like this when she was younger. Experiencing a concert from the perspective of the stage instead of the crowd. In the crowd, she’s just another face. Another body grinding against a dozen others as the base thumps into her like a heartbeat. But on the stage? On the stage she was everything.
V felt his confidence leach into her with each passing moment he was in control. His arrogance and narcissism are the best drugs she’s ever had—potent and powerful. They make her feel like she’s on top of the world—bulletproof and unstoppable. It was fucking intoxicating how good it felt.
When he strummed the introduction of Never Fade Away she felt a sharp something near her heart. It makes sense—given who he wrote the song about. But it felt more than that—just for a moment. Just for a moment she felt the rawness in her throat as he poured his heart out into the mic. She felt hot tears as they bubbled up in her eyes and streaked through her shimmering eyeshadow.
He wasn’t singing about Alt—not this time.
Fuck, she was damn glad he agreed.