a Bust-A-Move/Groove FanFiction by KellyGirl (Tin Nyanko)
Rating: R for implied sexuality and drug content.
Pulling the tight rubber up was quite a feat. Kelly was too excited to thoroughly dry off from her shower, so the latex stuck in all the wrong places. Squirming into the second skin and pulling it up to zipper, Kelly slid her bonnet on. She shook her yellow mane and grabbed a compact. She checked out her teeth first in the miniature glass circle. No one is glamorous with food in their teeth, she reminded herself. She smudged light blue eye shadow on her eyes to look painted and a slick pink gloss for a most kissable look.
Glancing up from the magic of the small mirror, she realized how much of a mess her little condominium really was. Dirty beige and neutral-colored suitdresses, frocks and sweaters, knee-length skirts, and all things to look conservatively presentable at work littered the floor. Who was going to boss her to pick up her room? Certainly not her mother. But then again, she'd been without a mother and on her own for quite a while.
Kelly bit her bottom lip and felt guilty. Bundling up the work clothes, she dumped them in a small hamper. Brushing her hands off, she gathered emergency candy-flavored lip balm, sour candy for snacking, two blue glowsticks for the night, and of course an emergency credit card (which she'd maxed out anyway). She slipped them into a little blue bag with a rabbit on it to match her baby attire. Snatching up her baby rattle, she headed for her car.
Jiggling her keys, she padded down the concrete stairs quietly. Careful not to trip or alert her landlord (to whom she owed just a tad bit of rent money), she skipped the last step and hurried to her beaten Volkswagen. She grabbed the steel handle gingerly, so as not to get dirt on her hands. Her poor Volkswagen had needed a bath for weeks now, but she couldn't find the time, juggling a job and a hotspot schedule.
* * *
The dirty warehouse was a short drive away. It looked mold-infested and dank from the outside and Kelly had to check twice to see if it was her destination. Optimistic, she locked her car and strutted to the door. Sure enough, a large man was at the door and thumping could be heard from inside. Determined this was the bouncer and not just some guard to keep kids away, Kelly presented him with a slip of paper she'd received a wink. The corners of his mouth curled slightly, and Kelly caught it. He stepped aside, handing her a pacifier. Believing he was adding an accessory to the outfit, she smiled impishly.
Appearances can be deceiving, and the warehouse was no exception. Strobe lights blinded and glowsticks shined in the darkness. The techno music throbbed and thumped, emanating from a scrawny boy rubbing turntables. Most everyone had a pacifier and many girls sucked on them. The girls shined like angels, stained with glitter and sweat. Boys danced like primal jungle gods, gyrating, glistening with their own perspiration.
There was a small bar, serving a variety of alcohol-filled drinks with sexy names like "Space Between Your Breasts." Kelly thought she'd adjust herself to the new scenery by playing bar-sitter for a short while. The bar glowed of green neon and the stools were outlined in the same glowing color. Kelly slid onto one and the slick plastic was wet, sticking to her latexed legs.
"Hello, baby," purred one of the female tenders. She had pink hair slicked into two spiky pigtails, smudged glitter on her chest, and fairy wings attached to her shoulder blades. "What's your poison?" She slashed her tongue out and Kelly spotted silver ball cut through it.
Kelly smirked in a sultry way, not effected by having a female flirt with her. "Your finest salty Margarita, with an umbrella," she cooed.
The fairy bartender nodded, rubbing her tongue ball on her bottom lip. She turned and fixed up Kelly's drink. Kelly spun the stool around, back to the bar. She slung one leg over another, clutching her purse. The ravers bucked and twisted against each other in a slur of bodies and glowing bracelets and lights. Kelly noticed two girls dressed in Catholic school uniforms popping small pill tablets and breathing white powder off pocket mirrors. They looked like they were inhaling themselves, but continued to twist and almost glide.
A clink of glass on the bar top, caused Kelly to turn again. The fairy bartender leaned on the top, her breasts almost spilling from her black dress that fit her like a wrapper. Kelly curled her pink lips back over her teeth, and took the drink. She noticed it seemed to be fizzing, like it was carbonated or something had just dissolved. However, doubting a spike in her drink, she licked the salt off the rim suggestively and the fairy tender raised an eyebrow, curling her tongue with the hole and jewel through it.
"I came to dance," Kelly explained, leaning and glugging much of the alcohol. It didn't taste different and didn't fizz anymore.
"I only tend," the fairy answered bluntly.
Kelly finished off the liquid and pushed the glass back. Reaching for her wallet inside her bag, the fairy tender assured her it was on the warehouse. Kelly licked her teeth with a grin, and dove into the swamp of dancing bodies.
Warmth emanated from the gyrating sea. Kelly's tongue felt dry and she sucked on the pacifier from the bouncer, realizing its intended purpose was to keep her mouth wet. She started to become dizzied with feelings and drunk on sounds from the DJ. The strobe lights that made the walls look like oceans took shapes of butterflies and halos, and Kelly knew these feelings weren't just from one Margarita with just alcohol in it. The crowds of bodies squeezed in, creating a groping dance lagoon.
A boy with a glowstick tied around his neck, a shining shirt, visor, and doves painted on his cheeks danced with her and groped her legs. She didn't feel the casing of her body, so it didn't matter where he touched. He asked her something and the thumping music numbed her ears and he sounded garbled. She just nodded and he took the sweaty rubber around her wrist.
He led her to a secluded area of the warehouse, which might have been a restroom, but she was too high to know. He pulled her by the wrist onto the cold tile, which stung through her latex. The dove boy handed her a pocket mirror like the Catholic girls'. It had the white dust on it and the dove boy inhaled first. He made it look like a dream, breathing in a piece of himself with the dust. Kelly sucked the dove boy's dust off her mirror through her nose, and her nostrils ached from the sting of the powder.
The dove boy crawled over to her body against the chilled wall. He pulled her to him by her shoulders and sucked and pressed his lips on her neck. His hands strolled elsewhere, touching her perspiration-soaked rubber that clung like her skin. Kelly tossed her head back, limp and again not feeling the shell that was flesh. His palms pulled through her hair, which was damp with sweat as well. She swung her head and her cheek stung with the cold from the tile wall, and that was what she felt as his hands wandered.
* * *
Waking up on a hard floor, despite being carpeted, is not a glamorous way to meet the morning. Lying on the floor sprawled in a tangle of rubber and legs amongst laundry, Kelly found the night before to be a blur. Her thighs and hips ached, which gave her a frowning reminder of last night. Kelly's nostrils stung and her head throbbed. Her lips were broken and bleeding and her tongue was swollen.
Knees buckling like a just-born pony, Kelly wobbled to her bathroom. Compacts, eye shadows, brushes, and makeup appliers were scattered around the sink and pills and the white dust from the night before, as well. Kelly touched her bruised, bleeding lips, leaving a red stain on her index finger. She masked the cracks in her lips with red lipstick..
Bleary-eyed, she glanced in the mirror. She was such a mess, with salty skin from dried swea and bruised legs. Hours started in twenty minutes, and she was hardly presentable. She studied herself and decided there was a lot of work to be done. Her eyes were sunken and red and her lips were hurting.
Flying from the bathroom, she pulled a brown blouse over her head and struggled into a black skirt. Tripping into pumps, she smoothed her hair into a tight bun. Clutching a purse, she gathered her keys and locked the apartment. Her heel caught on a hole in the dilapidated concrete steps and she fell palms done. Kelly gasped and tugged her foot out, scrambling to get to her car, as her palms stung from the scrapes.
* * *
Kelly felt even more beaten after work than from her fall on the steps. She'd snuck from her secretarial duties to the bathroom and took more of those pills the dove boy had given her. They gave her a boost to deal with people she disliked that afternoon, and with them, she didn't need dolls and teddy bears. She had the white powder along with the pills, but didn't have a clue how to fake taking it during work. She could tell folks that the pills were meds, but powder?
Dropping her business purse at the door, she didn't bother thinking about work anymore. She was over it and that was fine. Kelly was ready to hit that warehouse. It was alive and it made her feel the same way. She absorbed everything about it. It didn't matter her boss almost found her teddy bears, or that the mail boy spilt water on her lap that day. She was going to the warehouse again to feel alive.
And the parties at the warehouse did make her feel alive. There were colors never seen before, sounds never heard, and scents never smelled. It was a whole other world to be touched and born into again. Love never beat you or left fresh scars, only bruises on your thighs as a sweet reminder. Each night was a new night with someone else who felt like an old love. Kisses felt new, yet familiar, but always sweet.
The warehouse throbbed and beat down like the nights before. The boy with the doves on his cheeks and white powder in his pockets was there again. He moved her head to her shoulder to expose her neck, pale with blacklight flashing. He kissed it and the lights burned her eyes when she looked at them. She dreamed that his incisors would grow and he'd puncture her neck and end it with her blood on his lips. But that didn't happen, instead he gave her more pills.
Kelly sucked the white caplets down without water and stumbled as the thumping speakers got to her brain. Her eyes stung and her throat closed tight and trapped air. The white birds on the boy's cheeks had smeared from the sweat he was producing. White paint had gotten on Kelly's neck, and when she touched it, her fingertips were glittery. Her kneecaps hit the grimy floor and he grabbed her shoulders, palms sweating on the latex.
She looked at him through bleary, moist eyes and his mouth moved. Kelly cocked her head and his lips moved in slow motion. Someone had muted the party and slowed it down. Bodies moved slowly and people yelled without voices. A large cotton ball had stuffed itself in the back of her throat, and the boy pulled her up from the floor. He was no longer touching gently, but rough pulls and yanks to guide her through the slow video of a crowd. He dragged her and she couldn't feel his hand around her wrist anymore.
He pushed her through the door to the restroom again and sat with her on the tile. He kept Kelly's head up and put water to her chapped lips. She looked through him to the mounted mirror on the mildewed walls. The mirror had spiderweb cracks in it and dust collecting on its surface. She and him were projected onto its dirty surface. Him, with the water to her bleeding lips, and she, with matted hair and sunken eyes. She looked 11 years old and dead, too white to have blood inside. Tangles in thick yellow hair and damp skin, sodden with perspiration.
He pressed the water bottle to her lips and she sucked some into her mouth. She gasped to moisten the dry cotton ball on her tongue, but did more sputtering than swallowing. She pushed his hand away roughly and the water bottle hit the checkered tile with a smack. Kelly clenched her hands and her knuckles bled. The latex on her knees slipped on the water seeping from the plastic and she grasped for the bathroom sink. Her nails dug into the dirty porcelain as her legs slid from out under her. Kelly's chin hit the tile, caked with dirt and mildew.
* * *
When she opened her eyes, white light hit her like a truck and blinded her senses. She squeezed them shut again and salty tears escaped and ran down the curve of her cheek. A finger reached out to touch her cheek and rubbed the pearl of a tear away. She felt her fingers and toes and a scratchy mattress underneath her. Kelly squinted to block the vicious light and clear some of the blurry images. The room was running like a watercolor painting, but she could make out bleeding colors.
The blurred walls were white, and a small grey square was perched on a shelf in a corner. Cords were connected to her inner elbow and beeping noises emitted from a bleary machine near a chalky door. She moved her head to the side, and it felt like a lead weight smacking the rough pillow. An indistinct figure, like that of a person, hovered next to her ear. She stared for a moment and squinted to focus the picture. Kelly again thought of a running watercolor painting that she just couldn't clean up.
"Kelly?" the soft voice asked unsurely. They sounded muted and whispered as if the white room were a library. It could quite possibly have been, for it was much to cloudy to make out anything at all.
Kelly opened her mouth to speak, but her muscles felt like they had barbells hanging on them. She tried to mumble a response, but the sweet voice hushed her. "Are you an angel? Is heaven a small white room with a TV attached to the wall?" she wanted to ask.
"Don't try to talk," the little voice emitted from the vague outline of a person. "It probably isn't good for you anyway." The figure looked away a moment, and then back at Kelly. "You've been asleep for a while," the figure offered her, as if trying to break the news that Kelly had died. The voice, which was indistinguishable anyway, was starting to sound clenched now as if it fought tears.
Kelly attempted again to move her mouth and use her vocal chords. She opened her lips partly and hissed a jagged whisper, but it was no use. She wasn't using words that anyone could understand and a large cotton ball was still placed on her tongue. "Why are you crying?" Kelly wanted to ask desperately. "Would anyone have missed me now that I'm in heaven?" She decided that she was fortunate to have such a sweet-sounding angel.
"The doctor says you need lots of water," the angel explained in a voice that sobbed. "He said it was some problem with a fancy name that meant you were kind of wilting from not having water; like a poppy flower." Kelly heard the angel laugh sadly.
"Dehydration," Kelly wanted to specify for the angel. She decided she must be in the hospital, as lights started to sharpen and pictures got less bleary. "And I'm not dead," she deducted from the fact that a doctor had seen her. "Maybe these are my last moments," Kelly wondered. "Here, with an angel, in a white hospital room, on a stiff metal bed, and with a TV attached to the wall."
The angel leaned closer to Kelly and the picture became sharper, but remained as if Kelly needed glasses. "A boy brought you in... He didn't stay long, but the doctors said he had birds on his cheeks," the angel disclosed, still choked up. "He said you'd hit your head hard in a bathroom at a party. One of those underground ones you like, right?" The angel's lips curled up slightly in a dismal way. "Anyway," she sniffled. "I can't tell you how happy I am that you're okay." Two pearls of tears ran down the curve of her face.
Kelly squeezed her eyes shut to clear them and moisture escaped down her cheeks as well. She was determined to see her angel before she left the Earth and the TV attached to the wall. She opened them again and the TV on the wall was sharp, she moved her anchor of a head to see her angel. Shorty smiled weakly, rubbing her eyes with her massive sleeves. Kelly wanted to fling herself out of the metal bed and take Shorty in her arms.
Kelly reached out a heavy hand to take one of Shorty's enormous sleeves and tugged. Shorty leaned close to Kelly's cracked lips and they threatened to bleed. A tear escaped from Kelly's eye and she mouth slowly, "I love you like a sister."