Dance Without You
Prologue
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The crimson lipstick was meticulously applied. Pale fingers gently swiped below a full bottom lip to carefully wipe away any color that had fallen outside the lines. Dark brown eyes bored into the mirror ahead, casting a critical gaze on the ensemble. A vintage Ramones t-shirt swathed the upper half of the lithe body, while a dark and frayed denim mini skirt barely covered the lower half. Ripped fishnets tickled thin white legs and the feet were encased in a pair of old and beaten-up combat boots.
A grim smile.
"Hey, you guys are up in a minute!" a voice called.
Standing, an arm reached out and made a grab for the leopard print fur jacket that was tossed casually over resigned shoulders. Moving out of the small and dimly light dressing room, bright lights and the sounds of feet stomping and crowd screams assaulted the senses.
The stage was larger than was usual. Perhaps it was merely that perception, skewed as it was by drink and drugs. The guitar screeched to life and those same pale fingers reached up to grasp a rusty microphone. The drums pounded loudly inside the skull.
Red lips parted.
"Don't fret, precious
I'm here.
Step away from the window,
go back to sleep.
Lay your head down child,
I won't let the boogeyman come..."
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Song sampled from Pet, by A Perfect Circle. Welcome to my story.