we're sophisticated in loving (a professional)
A.N: This was unplanned. I was simply listening to this song… and voila!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
She twirled around the pole, one leg cocked around the silver band of metal as she gazed into the lustful eyes of the men, drunk out of their minds and stuck in a temporary mindset of nothing.
But then, her mind was the same.
Brown curls slithered past the red demi-cut bra she wore, and she noticed the growing pile of one hundred dollar bills with no emotion. One greasy hand found it's way to her calf, and she simply twirled higher - out of reach, like always.
She never noticed the man approaching her pole, his startlingly blue eyes almost silver in the dark light of the nightclub. He saw what the other men did not: the way her hair fell across her eyes to hide the dark circles that surrounded the blankness of her brown eyes…
He saw the effort it took her shaking arms to pull out of reach of the wolves, that prowled that floors below like hunters intent on capturing their prey.
He saw the shadows across her collar-bones that seemed to caress her skin, as ugly as the motive behind it may have been.
In other words, to him she was chaos; colourblind to the violent forms of art that draped around her body. She was the canvas - but who was the artist of this broken beauty?
She licked her lips absently, not noticing (or caring) how this caused catcalls to yell in her direction; they were nothing but distractions…
He had reached the front now, to stare up into her face. To see the bluish appearance of her lips that she tried to hide behind the vibrant red lipstick. To notice the purple-pink sunset bruise with growing anger, that swirled around her ribs like a natural tattoo.
Was she really the same girl he had seen days before?
A glass suddenly burst against his temple and he dropped like a stone - only then did she see him and scream his name in agony - no, this was not meant to happen, not to him, not to him…
Abruptly she stopped mid-spin and she called the bouncers then dropped to her knees beside him, brushing the cappuccino strands of unkempt hair out of his face. With shaking fingers, she traced his lips, his eyes… the bright red paint that now slipped from his forehead down into his ears like the magma of a volcano.
A hand beared down on her shoulder and her head - snapped - to see three men, leering down on her like a predator to prey… Simply picking up the remains of the shot glass that tinkled on her knees and her hands and in her heart, she touched it to her neck and submitted.
The men dropped their hands, eyes alight with terror as the girl - suddenly pale enough to see the slow ebbing of her blood that was slowly, slowly, slowly coming to a halt - fell like a marionette cut from her strings - ooh, what freedom this would bring - into the arms of the blue-eyed man on the floor beside her. Troy's face was a chalky-white... but his heart gained a sudden warmth although it stopped it's constant beating with a final lub-dub.
She was here with him again. His Gabriella.
… I have no idea where that came from, honestly. Let's just say my mind is all colours and chaos right now.
-chann3l.0rang3