Author's Note: If possible, I strongly recommend listening to the Memento Mori soundtrack while reading, and listening to each song when it comes up in the fic. Spotify playlist link (remove spaces): spoti . fi /2HryvN5

Song: The Runaways – You Drive Me Wild

Saturday, January 28, 2012
Portland, Oregon


Throwing open the metal doors with a jarring clang!, Chloe's loud, joyous laughter echoed across the packed parking lot as she walked outside and leaned against the brick wall. Behind her, the sound of guitar riffs and an alto voice belting lyrics poured through the still-closing door of The Polaris into the chilly night air.

By the time Rachel caught up, speeding past the door before pausing to search the lot, Chloe had stopped cackling and pulled her Firewalk-branded Zippo out to light her cigarette.

"Looking for someone?" the blue-haired punk called out, casually blowing out smoke.

"That. Was. Fucking. AMAZING!" Rachel replied, pumping her fists as she ran to where Chloe stood, puffs of visible breath trailing behind her.

"Yeahyou are. Also: a pro! Do not tell me that was your first time stage diving?"

"It won't be the last," her girlfriend replied with a wink, leaning in for a quick kiss before slipping a hand into the taller girl's jacket pocket to pull her pack of cigarettes back out. "We are so coming back for the next show!"

"Need a light?" the punk asked with a cocky smile, expertly flipping the lighter's cap open and sparking its flame in one fluid motion.

"Hella smooth, Chloe Price," she replied, her hazel eyes reflecting the newly-lit ember from her smoke.

"I try," she shrugged nonchalantly as they each brushed off and zipped up their jackets.

Chloe lived for nights like this.

This pulled her through the invasion of Sergeant Step-Ass into her home, her on-and-off relationship with Blackwell suspension, her best friend's radio silence, and the endless march of odd jobs she spent each weekday hunting for.

Give her a punk show - bright lights, massive crowds, glorious hearing damage – and none of that shit mattered anymore!

Give her a smokin' hot special someone to share it with, and the memory could keep her going for weeks.

Even without a little chemical stress relief, even when it was her turn to drive, this was enough.

Sometimes the baggage fell away, and Chloe could just be. In the moment. Sometimes that moment was all booming bass and pounding heart and just gotta let go, just thrash!

Sometimes it was soft lips, dancing tongues, the air in their own little world tingling with electric desire.

For her, the worst part about feeling alive was knowing it was only for a moment.

Walking back to the truck, she felt the adrenaline, thrill, and joy beginning to drain from her.

"Hey," Rachel said, her eyes fixed on the punk's deflated expression, "what's on your mind?"

"I just… do we really have to go back?" she replied, breaking contact to lean back against the driver's side door and light up another smoke. "You know some people in L.A., right?"

"I wish we could make our escape," Rachel said, running her hand along Chloe's jacket sleeve and meeting her eyes, "And next year, as soon as I graduate, we will. Waiting sucks, but it'll be so worth it when we finally-"

"I know," she replied with a bitter sigh, taking another long drag and slowly blowing the smoke from the corner of her lips as she passed the cigarette, "I just don't want tonight to end, you know? And next May is… it's like forever"

"Speaking of forever," said Rachel, a smoldering glow returning to her eyes, "I got you something. A little surprise."

"Oh…?" Chloe replied, raising an eyebrow suggestively despite her look of resignation as the shorter girl passed the smoke back to her.

"Open your hand."

"What the actual…? Rachel-"

"Come onnnn!"

"Can you just-"

"Chloe, just… trust me, OK?"

"Rachel, I..." She begrudgingly held out her left hand.

"Thank you," her girlfriend said, pressing a small, rectangular paper into the punk's open palm.

Blue eyes peered down skeptically. What the hell…? Rachel got her, what, a check? Some sorta certificate? How was this gonna make going "home" any less agonizing?

Then again… who knows? Maybe liquor stores and head shops offer gift certificates?

Chloe had seen stranger things, for sure.

Bringing it up close enough to see the bold black print against a lavender background, she read:

[Roberta]
[Black Labrys Tattoos]
[Portland, OR 97211]
[11:00 A.M.]
[Sat. 3/10/12]
[Value: $850]

"Rachel, what is this…?" She asked, her brow knotted in confusion as she tossed her smoke to the ground and stamped it out, "That's… that's right before my birthday…?"

"Exactly," she replied, beaming, "You keep saying you want that tattoo, and I think your design will look hella good… so really, kinda selfish of me. Would've been on your birthday, if the shop stayed open Sundays."

"Rach, you… me… tattoo?" She absently reached under her beanie to scratch at her scalp as her gears finally started turning.

"Happy Birthday! My last photo shoot paid pretty well, so I got you… a tattoo appointment!" Rachel said, opening her arms dramatically and bowing at the waist as if on stage, "Ta-da!"

"And a gift certificate? For a tattoo? They do that?"

"I think what you mean to say is-"

"AMAZEBALLS! Oh holy fuck, thank you so much!"

Chloe pulled her close and met her lips, caressing her cheek with one hand and wrapping the other arm around her back. A pleased, longing groan rose from Rachel's throat as she slipped her tongue between the punk's parted lips.

"Get a room!" a woman called out from a passing car, as dozens of people began to pour out of the venue's metal doorway.

Still making out, they each raised one defiant arm to flip her off.

"I so wish we could right now..." Rachel finally said in a low, sensual whisper when their lips eventually parted.

"We'll be back in March," Chloe replied, catching her breath and waggling her eyebrows suggestively as she reached for her keys, "How else am I gonna get up before noon? Obviously we need a motel, or whatever."

"We?" her girlfriend said with a smirk, making her way around to the passenger side door.

"Hey, the week after we met, you didn't just ask me to draw you a dragon," Chloe replied as both girls climbed in, "You asked for a dragon tattoo. You in, or what?"

"Fuck yes!"


Author's Note: Thank you for reading! This is the end of Chapter 1. Please click the pull-down menu to read the next chapter. Memento Mori is completed, with five chapters in total. Thanks again!