When The Wicked Are Young
By: CorXCore
{That's right! We are back! For now.}
Move Your Body
Chapter One
Gilbert had long since decided that the clothes weren't important. The drinks weren't important. What was important was the music. If the music was good, he could dance. And when he danced, he lost himself. When he lost himself, he lost the memories. He could never lose himself in the fruit drinks everyone always seemed to want to buy him. Okay, so maybe the drink was a little important.
The music. It had been a long time since he'd heard the song, but he smiled. It was a sweet song. He smiled, closed him eyes, and drowned.
As he collapsed, panting, into a bar stool, it occurred to him that all he wanted was to go back to Germany. They knew how to party in Germany. Dubstep was just reaching America, and it was awfully tame stuff what filtered in, and jumpstyle was nigh unheard of.
Glazed eyes slid across the selection behind the bar. Thinking of Germany had made him remember the old country and his own destruction. The thought made him remember the destruction and fire and pain.
"Oi! Bartender! Vodka. Straight. Now."
It wasn't often he spoke at bars and when he did it was never much. He made that a point. For one thing, he thought it made things too personal, too fast. Not to mention he was strange enough as it was, being albino.
The bartender looked startled but slid him the shot and took the paper slapped onto the bar. As he ordered another, the thought floated into the back of him mind. He threw the second shot back to erase it again.
"When did it come to this?"
{'kay guys, here's what's up. This was a school assignment so no shipping. This is also set up oddly. I feel like it's set where they're all immortal but human-ish? Maybe they're all nations but don't ever talk to each other! Whatever. Take it as you will, and hopefully you'll bear through to the end- Which is awesome! Sure. R&R. Thanks! - Cor & Core out!}