I have decided to begin taking inspiration from the screwy-ass things that some people I know do to each other. It's like having my own private soap operas to refer to.

Summary: AU: Pick your own pairing: Battle of the Bands and the discoveries that follow.

The lights everywhere that seemed to do nothing to alleviate the darkness were as close as she would ever come to being high. Exhilarating would be the best way to describe the feeling of total weightlessness that came with the bass vibrations pumping through her body and shaking the thoughts right out of her. The bands on stage sometimes said something she understood, but her body didn't care. All she wanted was to keep feeling the bodies around her answering to the same call of moveshufflebumpgrindlaughshoutscreamdance that the flashing lights brought in and out of the darkness too quickly for her to discern.

After becoming drunk on the adrenaline she could feel pumping over her skin even if it might have been in someone else's veins, she stumbled outside for a drink of water and a reprieve from the carbon dioxide. The night air was sharp and masochistically pleasurable by contrast. To her right, she could see two boys lighting up cigarettes. She might have been irked that they were trashing her air at any other time, but now she almost wished she had one too.

After watching them suck the life out of the pallid white rolled leaves, she figured maybe she should venture back in. The band she had heard before was surely ending soon and she wouldn't want to miss the next one. Deciding she'd take the alternate route back in through a broken bathroom window (she felt daring tonight, beautifully daring), she adjusted her lace-up sleeve-less shirt and ran a hand through her hair before making her way around to the alley-facing side of the building.

The deep shadows cast by the sickly streetlights on the other side of the building and the slivered moon caused a new surge of adrenaline. She spotted the stack of crates, moldering and creaky, under the shattered panes. The crunch of her tattered sneakers on gravel and discarded beer bottle tops felt like a song she maybe heard before she'd left.

Hiking herself onto the first of the wooden steps, she heard it. A muffled pant, maybe, to her right. She turned to investigate (she felt daring, dangerously daring).

It was him. The boy who she'd only been hoping to meet here before she'd been sucked into lyrics she maybe knew and chaotic lights. Him and her (he and her? her mind wasn't functioning). The girl who had been telling her to just make her move because she had so much to gain and so little to lose. Them, together, his back pressed against the wall as she aggressively ran her hands over his chest and his arms wound about her waist, pulling at her shirt as she growledmoaned into his mouth.

She couldn't stop looking. It was like running into two animals in heat; so morbidly fascinating but so overwhelmingly awkward and disgusting and you couldn't decide between retreating quickly or exiting slowly.

Why couldn't she stop looking? She didn't want to see a flash of two tongues tangling or hear his obvious approval when she bit his bottom lip. Didn't, didn't, didn't. The adrenaline was like a faint pounding in her ears now, blanketed by the loudness of her own not-there thoughts.

Finally she snapped, as if the deer had finally discovered the headlights indeed were not binding it to the pavement. Before she even consciously registered it, she had scrambled up the crates and vaulted herself through the windowpanes. She landed wrong and sprawled ungracefully on a floor she wasn't sure was the color she was seeing. She lay there for a few moments, willing her eyes to blink and her body to quit quivering.

What finally awoke her was the knowledge that the sharp stinging pains in her palms were splinters from the crates, and that she had to move now because she was sure they were going to be coming back in through the window she'd just launched herself through.

Rolling onto her hands and knees, ignoring the throb in her palms, she hoisted herself onto her feet and managed to get through the doors and back into the mass of bodies.

TO BE CONTINUED

Well, there is the first installment. It's not any dialogue at all, sorry, but I don't control what my crazy acquaintances do in their spare time. Updates as often as I receive word of insanity, and I am planning on doing scenes with dialogue and follow up ones that take place outside of this setting