These lights are flashes of memories. These strangers, ebbing and flowing through overcrowded corridors are the blood rushing through her body. The techno beat and heavy bass are the rhythm of her heart.

Try to tell that girl she belongs anywhere else.

These seedy clubs and fantasies with strangers are her life. She can't let go.

Melody lingers side stage, fists curled in the shimmering silk curtain, half lidded blue eyes fixed on the genuine beauty dancing onstage.

That new girl, quiet, friendly, always willing to offer a smile while everyone else flinched away from such emotions. She can't recall her name right now, Confident that by her hesitation on stage, this girl has only just signed her life away. The dancers' fear spills freely from her pastel shaded eyes, the weight of her emotion drowning the anxious blonde side stage, while her awkwardness goes unnoticed by her audience.

"Aerith. The new girl," a voice calls from behind, twisted and harsh from years of tobacco abuse. Melody spins around, Eyes slowly focusing on the only constant fixture in this little corner of hell. Tifa stands, faux pride slathered all over her face, a convenient gloss to cover up a life of abuse. Her slender hands planted firmly on curved hips, Hazel coloured eyes lazily surveying the scene, slyly watching the youth onstage.

Tifa had been what Melody always wanted to be, the beautiful girl, carved from the grafittied concrete of the streets. The welcoming outstretched arms of a mother, but words so harsh and violent, they could make one bleed. Somewhere along the very jagged line, Tifa's life hit fast forward. She's aged. Not so passionate, Her beauty abandoning her, Reminding Melody of the common whores playing predator on the streets, Desperate for someone's 'I love you', cigarette hanging constantly from glossed lips.

"She needs to up her game. There's a big crowd out there tonight," Tifa says, smirking slightly, cruel and calculating stare watching the timid brunette, Aerith.

"Besides, she's got some fierce competition". That smirk stays plastered to her normally neutral features. Her eyes rest on melody now, a weary gaze, all the pressures of the world. Melody forces a small smile, the simplest action causing shooting pains in her skin, the butterflies in her stomach try their best to force their way out. Those butterflies are the only thing she's eaten in days.

Aerith's barely clothed, flowers braided kindly into the rope of hair that twists and twirls its way down her back. Her arms hang lifelessly by her sides, fingers motionless, and the idea of touching her own skin, cursed by the eyes of so many strangers, repulsive. Her pale green eyes dart frantically towards side stage, measuring and calculating a quick and swift escape. Tifa blocks her path, wearing a sadistic smirk so uncharacteristic for the woman she had been introduced to only hours before.

Death is not the end of the chain; it's just an unexpected kink.

Death forced Aerith off course, new decisions just waiting to be made.

She closes her eyes and tilts her head back to the ceiling, the unnatural heat numbing her senses. Beads of sweat trickle down her bare skin, and the feeling is so trashy, the experience so degrading, the urge to dig nails in and tear all the way to the unsoiled layers beneath is incredible.

"Cloud. I don't blame you."

---

The hurt and fear in her eyes is enough to turn your stomach, make you feel hollow, and helpless. You briefly wonder why so many come here, and pay hard-earned money, just to feel useless and empty. And people say you have a cynical outlook on life. No one notices, throwing flittering notes of cash at her like confetti, celebrating the fact it's not them reduced to bare skin and sad eyes.

Axel leans across the bar beside you, Neon lights illuminating his chilling features, His long pale throat, his pulse practically visible. Seeing something as private as his heart beat, this feels intimate, and you almost wish it was. You're like those middle-aged women with the cherry lips and greying hair, begging on the streets for affection, Cash as an added bonus. You look to the brunette onstage once more, and try to establish whether or not she is that much different to you.

Turning Back, your eyes wander, trailing down his body. He hisses through his teeth, acid green hidden away by sweeping lashes. He acts like he can feel. How you wish you knew. Your fingers tremble, Knotted together, fighting the urge to bruise his pale skin.

He's shirtless, a painful expanse of white on display, each rib a prominent ledge on his body. Shiny leather hangs low on sharp hips, His concave stomach attracting enough attention to make you squirm, and yet, this body to him is his pride. His whole body is a scar of an unfortunate past he'd rather not discuss. Literal body language.

The boy he speaks to behind the counter, you imagine he's a little older than you, Wears a grin that suggests you have a lot to learn about your accomplice for this evening. Silver hair cascades down his back, Hangs in his eyes. His continuous blinking grates your nerves. You watch the affectionate touches, and desperate glances he burdens Axel with. Your red-headed companion pretends not to notice, or pretends not to remember. There's a strange sort of tension you don't bother contemplating.

He drinks, and drinks, Eager to put his persistent friend behind the bar out of business. And you watch the process of self-destruction with more interest than you watch the display of human degradation onstage. You're surrounded by such heart-warming imagery, in the most despairing sense.

His lips are constantly curled around dirty glass, Beads of the green liquid leaving wet trails down his throat in his eagerness. He doesn't seem to notice the warning tremble that racks his hands. The music making him deaf, the alcohol leaving him blind.

The silver haired boy leans awkwardly across the bar, the strange electricity between them physically painful to anyone who cares to notice. Cups his scarred hands around Axel's ear, and from then on, His words are their little secret. The jealousy is overwhelming. Axel nods, toxic eyes fixed on you the whole time, unblinking, unmoving, unending, He runs his tongue along cracked lips, one hand trailing along his inner thigh. You watch the sight with increasing awkwardness, A desire to see Axel on his knees, Dragged down from his high horse. You're eager to see him throw his dignity away, that is until, a loud crash of sparkling glass collides and shatters on the opposite end of the bar. Axel quickly withdraws his hands, watching you watching him. The question easily visible on his face. 'What?'

Like you're the guilty one in this equation.

He doesn't even have the common courtesy to look ashamed. Unstoppable, incredible pride.

The shimmering haired boy rolls his eyes, offering an apologetic shrug to Axel, Who's already lost interest, Retreating back to his collection of shot glasses littering the counters. Sighing, He glances along the bar, Eager to place his blame on an easy target, not so eager to lose his job. A wine-haired girl sits at the opposite end, grinning maliciously, waving with her fingers at the world weary boy serving. The section of counter before her is completely empty, all the bottles and glasses smashed about the floor.

Kairi.

You watch him stomp around behind the counter, Navigating his way cautiously around various puddles on the tiles, you watch him reprimand Kairi, Yelling to be heard over the loud beat, smashing his fists onto the clear plastic of the bar, no doubt embedding the tiny shards of glass in his knuckles. Kairi sits, Barely phased by his blunt rage. She nods, and smiles, Eyes distant, not vaguely interested in what he has to say.

In the moments you wrap yourself in the miniature drama unfolding across the way, Axel's arms have found their way around various girls.

He leans casually against the bar, Bare back cut and bruised from the rough edges. A young girl clings from his lips, Desperate to be the sole focus of his affections. Her fingers dance frantically across his chest, Clinging and grasping, Searching for something to hold onto. It's not personal, it's wild, an encounter with a stranger to kick start a heart. Her choppy dark hair falls in her eyes, blocking your view of her expression.

You just want to feel what she feels.

All that passion or just his lips.

You shake your head, Ashamed, and survey the sea of sweating bodies. Her pleas become clearer, tearing at your ears even over the music. You roll your eyes to glare at Axel, Only to find him watching you. Green eyes flare dangerously, emotionally. Raw rage. His lips move with practised ease, while she sucks the life from his words. He pulls her closer to him, her grunt of satisfaction inaudible but crystal clear at the same time. Grinds his hips against hers, Measures your reaction, Eyes offer to let you join in.

You glance back towards the stage, a busty woman, dignified graces in a place that normally deprives people of them. A hush falls over the crowd, a restless anticipation. From the corner of your eyes, you see the girl in Axel's arms fight to turn against him, Eager to see what spurred the silence. You smile, satisfied, to yourself.
The woman on stage traces the crowd with deep hazel eyes lined in heavy make up. Her lips are pursed tight, Disapproval? Impatience?

This woman has all the wrong characteristics to be standing where she does.
She clicks her tongue and tilts her eyes to heaven, swaying her hips to a beat only she can hear.

"Let's face it boys and girls ...
You're only here for one thing".

---

Saix grumbles inwardly at the display onstage. This dingy atmosphere of neon and sex is so typically Marluxia is almost makes him shudder. The dark haired woman commands the attention of the room, her own misfit circus, while they easily swallow every word she utters through those ruby lips.

He quickly surveys the room again, mentally mapping his men's positions. He struggles to see Xigbar above the commotion of the crowd, but chances the sharpshooter with the failing attitude is nearby, Ready to obey should the need for action arise.

Xemnas sits in the V.I.P area, somewhere through the heavy crowd, behind him, in the company of strange men in business suits, Clutching briefcases like sad imitations of loved ones. Saix' orders had been well established, playing over in his mind like a mantra. He was not to make contact with Xemnas while in the presence of the clubs patrons. Xigbar was under similar orders.

Separated from his voice of reason like that, Saix begins to feel the growing sensation of loss. His searching for Xigbar's familiar face becomes a little more frenzied.
Xemnas had insisted he remain isolated throughout the night. And for once, Xemnas' words pull on the berserkers nerves, His teeth grinding painfully, Eyes narrowed dangerously.

As an individual, He has a reputation to protect.

---
Melody watches, Waits, Listens through Tifa's familiar speech. Her tone is bored, Hate filled, teasing her audience as punishment for their lifestyles. Hardly a punishment worth considering. They laugh, Joke, Enjoy her icy tones, Unaware that Tifa has never told a lie in her life. Never pretended, never struggled to fake. Those icy tones and short manners are exactly how she feels regarding the gathering nightlife.

This isn't acting.

These are real people.

She's seen them come and go, Build up to break down.

Attachment is a deadly thing.

"The man up stairs brought you all a little present." she sneers, Gesturing with a wide sweep of delicate hands to the second story windows, Looking down over the dance floor. Marluxia's hunched shadow looms, surveying his kingdom.

Her hand continues the wide sweep, landing on the curtain. Melody's signal. Sad how an introduction is no longer a necessity, she's so common, so familiar to the people here, and that in itself is a sad story.

Tifa retreats into the shadows, the noise of her heels clacking against the stage easily covered by the shill screams and loud cheers of a crowd just supplied with a fresh batch of eye candy.

Melody takes a deep breath, Swallows her pride and a handful of coloured pills. Paints on her best smile and struts her way into the spot light.

The searchlight.

s.o.s.

The sounds is so shrill, as she hits the lights, it melts into one, her make shift white noise. She closes her eyes and mentally tries to order herself.

After all, Didn't Larxene say Roxas was in the crowd tonight?

----

You feel your heart stop, the desperate pumping cease suddenly. The breath dies in your throat, your grip tightens.

Melody?

You hear your name, Faint and distorted, Your vision of an angel suddenly blocked by glowing green eyes, Unfocused with alcohol, Cheeks pale with illness.

"Roxas? Hey buddy? You alright?" Knotted knuckles buried in your shoulders, He shakes you violently, Alcohol clouding his better judgement. And all the while he's laughing. There's the pain again, you're hurting, and he's laughing, holding you in your agony. You nod slowly, Regaining composure as the music starts up, Sleazy trip-hop.

"Jesus kid" he mutters, returning to his seat, not bothering sparing the stage a glance. Not interested in what the masses want. Typical Axel. 'This is my story. Not theirs.'
In your efforts to not watch the pretty little girl destroy herself, you struggle to make a desperate attempt at conversation with Axel, Confident he'll keep your mind from her, your eyes from her.

"Where's your little girlfriend gone?" You yell in his ear, leaning close and breathing in his smell of sex and alcohol. You can't imagine Axel smelling any other way.

"Yuffie? We're not together" he shrugs, Unaffected by the intimate display he'd just taken part in. He mentions her name casually, as though their encounter was nothing more than a brief meeting on the street.

You raise a curious eyebrow, casting a desperate glance towards the stage. Melody sways, soaking in the spotlight, Eyes shut tight, lips parted. For once she looks vaguely relaxed; like she's confident her demons have given up the chase. The material of her dress is thin and see-through in the searing lights, but in this glare, her skin itself is almost transparent. The intimacy isn't in her clammy skin, it's the bones beneath.

Beside you, Axel knocks his collection of drained glasses to the tiles behind plastic counters in his hurry to support his head. You instantly scan the area for the silky haired bar man, who's quick to leave Kairi's company, Eager to offer his assistance. The reassuring words and ginger touches are enough to turn your stomach, as well as your eyes.

Axel's words are a little slower, A little sharper.

"Riku, You're not getting me drunk to get laid, Are you?"

Axel smiles a bleary-eyed smile, Weak and watery, Leaning further over the countertops, Burying his fists in the uniform shirt of the stunned bar man. Riku blinks wide, aqua eyes, whispering into Axel's ear at a distance so close, the majority of people seated by the bar hold their breath. His whispering is all heavy breath and grinding teeth. You know he's just fooling, Axel drunk on his social needs. But their closeness pulls at your insides, and you reluctantly fix your eyes once more on the stage.

---

Melody curls and twists, Contorts her body at ugly angles, Gliding through the cigarette smoke and sexual tension. Her hands trail across her chest, Ribs protruding painfully, nails tearing into her skin. She can see Xemnas from the stage and she's aware she's under strict orders to entertain tonight's special guest, But has already been warned to keep at a safe distance.

In the faint light cast over his face, she can read his expression perfectly. Boredom, Indifference, Maybe a slight hint of disapproval. She lets a rough moan tear from her throat in an effort to capture his wandering eyes. Her fans whistle and cheer, but he only fixes amber eyes on her figure, watching with an amused curiosity. She doesn't expect much, this man with the emotional capacity of stone. Unlikely to spark any sort of arousal in the figure of authority.

He's probably still getting his 'fill' from the insane blue-haired one.

Her own personal joke brings a sadistic smile creeping across her face, and this stage is her catwalk, and her body the latest fashion.

---

Your seething, Eyes burning with jealously. Almost as green as the acid in Axel's eyes. You watch her, this little doll, Strut across the stage, Eyes focused on only one person.

But not you.

And that's insult to injury.

You know who she's watching, Know who she's imagining. Axel had informed you, after skipping the entire queue with much protesting, upon entering the building, Where Xemnas' booth for the night would be located. And that booth is where her heat lies.

Your frustration is trembling in your fists. You glance angrily at Axel, Ready to accuse him, Blame him for bringing you here tonight. Ready to cry on him should he offer you a shoulder. But you're done with crying, buried your tears with your brother.

Axel lays, His face pressed against the cool plastic. Riku has once again disappeared into the thick veil of smoke, and his absence creates a welcomed sense of relief, not just within you, but as he took his leave, the occupants of the bar breathed a collective sigh of relief. The friction between Axel and Riku enough to make anyone's stomach tight.

He's mumbling incoherently, watching you, Eyes twisted to look up at you, and you can't help the fond smile that breaks out across your lips. How professional he is, you're doing a better job than he could possibly manage. That anger flares again, how quickly Saix kicked you back onto the street, yet remained satisfied with a member as defective as Axel. Axel brushes bloody knuckles against the knee of your torn jeans, a weak effort to console you. He's not comfortable with the hurt on your face.

---

Larxene is forced to body swerve and use her shoulders, Desperate to get through the crowd in the small window of time she's being offered. People have no idea that she is, in a way, a patron to the club, People don't care. Like she knows so well, Occupation is irrelevant on the dance floor.

She silently prays Axel is still seated by the bar, Hopes his little blonde companion is still absorbed in Melody's self-destruction. A quick glance to the stage confirms Melody's presence.

A voice rings out over the music, Unstable with alcohol.

"Take it off".

Melody does well not to visibly freeze, those well oiled joints continuing their mesmerising motion. She's not so professional, but she knows well how to deal with these people. Drops to her hands and knees, Arches her back and crawls to the edge of the stage, the best direction she could identify the voice from. Snatches the face ofa young man, and kisses him with an aching fury, all her anger into something allegedly gentle. It doesn't last long, Blunt and bruising, effectively stunning her audience into a respectful silence. No one misses the blood glistening across her lips.

Larxene sneers, There's something for Axel's little pre-teen friend to fuck himself to.

Finally manoeuvring her way to the bar, reluctantly ignoring the wandering hands and vile requests. Axel sits hunched, closer to her; she can't see his new play toy behind his lanky frame.

She quickly adjusts her dress, Black vinyl sticking to her moist skin. She runs trembling fingers through slicked back blonde hair. Isn't this an ugly blast from the past? She's stepping back into her bumpy relationship history, hesitantly rests a hand on Axel's shoulder. The time it takes him to turn his head from the little blonde kid to face her is painful. So many times in those split seconds she dares herself to run. Womanly grudges glue her to the spot.

His eyes widen, His posture immediately straightens, Throws a cautious glance over his shoulder, Not so sure he wants his old blonde friend to meet his new one. Roxas is absorbed in the skin vision.

"Jesus, Larxene?" He heaves himself from the bar; not even taking the time to admire her appearance before placing rough hands on her hips, tugging her closer. Achingly familiar. She plants perfectly polished hands on the bare skin of his chest, Has to swallow hard and close her eyes to control herself.

"It's been a while, Axel," She purrs, an act perfected over the years, the monologue she had planned out for her reunion with her unfaithful Ex.

He doesn't give her a chance to fight. He never did. Never would. Axel was a sneaky bastard.
Nuzzles her neck, Breathes heavy on her ear. Whispers dangerously close, "You know' I'd tell you I've been abstinent since you left, But I don't get the feeling you'd believe me".

His voice is low, Husky, Stronger then she remembers. Sets ablaze an uncomfortable heat between her thighs.

"Axel, Darling. There's only one thing you love more than yourself, and that's sex".

He smirks, a look not foreign on his face. Pulls back a little, to take in her expression, a strong fury he's never really seen in her before. She's rejuvenated. He wonders if maybe he is like a disease, or maybe she's just conditioned him into believing that over the years.

He pulls her close again, calloused hands pressed firmly into the small of her back, Taking great satisfaction in the girlish gasp that escapes. A lapse in a much matured defence system.

"And would I be pushing me luck to ask for some tonight?" he whispers huskily against the skin of her throat, Lips brushing against her skin. He has all the confidence in the world and it's that confidence that stops her immediately shooting him down.

Marluxia wasn't doing her any favours assigning her to Axel's case. He wasn't offering her an opportunity to work out her kinks under the raging red fighter. Her job was murder, Both to her, And to him.

She moans in response, stalling for time, reforming her plan of action, not expecting Axel to initially come on so strong.

"Prove to me you'd be worth the hassle," She responds, Head tilted towards the ceiling, Offering him more access to her neck, Hopeful that maybe he'll seize the opportunity to see her bleed, And kill her where she stands. If only his kisses were punctures, But then again, in a sense, they are. Each one another stab at her conscience.

Because hearts have nothing to do with sex.

He laughs, a throaty gasp in her ear, one of his hands quickly manoeuvring it between her thighs. This is more like the good ol' days. Blowing off assignments to go work out some tension with each other. This was going to be a harder job than she had anticipated. Pun intended.
The gasps that escape her lips are no longer a dirty little act.

"Outside" she forces herself to speak, in a pitch higher than she would have liked. All her dangerous professionalism thrown out the window. She's at his mercy now.

Are the licks and the lips of temptation, Just tricks, not for playing? Do you fake it?
If you bond with me, I could make your whole world sweet.
I'm on my knees.

---

Melody's routine draws to a close, the reluctance in the audience as clear as the voices the yell with. Eager eyes scan the crowd, searching for common ground. Finally breaking the negative tension between herself and Xemnas. The relief makes her bones ache.

These shadows are all faceless, Melting and moving together. Reminds her, in a way, of the ocean.

She delays her exit offstage, ignoring a frustrated Tifa half hidden by tacky velvet curtains. Quickly, desperately searches the faces in the crowd. If she was to make her escape before Larxene could wrap up her own assignment, they'd both have to face Marluxia's dangerous wrath. And she is angrily aware, that in Marluxia's eyes, if she should cry gold, she still wouldn't measure up to the pedestal he's comfortably sat Larxene on.

She eventually sees the blonde haired nymph by the bar, Wrapped up in Axel's arms, Neck bent awkwardly back, laughing at the heavens. As if Axel is something to be proud of. She sees Roxas, Looking defeated, Saddened. It's a despairing blue aura he's always had, but now it radiates.

Her orders return to mind, pulsating like a mantra. Her inner turmoil plays out like a movie across her face. Her eyes darting frantically, From Tifa, to the lingering shadow of Marluxia by the windows. The shrill voices and cat-calls of the crowd tearing into her focus and disabling her problem solving abilities.

'Don't let Roxas interfere with Larxene's plans, but don't let Axel see you'.

She comes here for help, yet no one is willing to offer up encouragement.

She glances quickly at Xemnas, Who is once again absorbed in his own mind, Eyes distant and hazy. He shows no signs of acknowledging Axel's little escapades by the bar. A deciding factor.

She turns, Leaps offstage, Prepared to tear through the crowd to avoid Marluxia's sadistic punishments.

---

Saix' own senses are dimmed by the flashing neon and thick cigarette smoke. The show on stage boring him. How inappropriate of Marluxia. Are he and Xemnas not business colleagues, technically? And yet Marluxia sees fit to degrade Saix' own boss by reducing him to a meeting in this seedy hell-hole. Saix provokes his own rage. The deep breathing becomes a harder task, the smoke searing his insides. A cautious glance towards Xemnas' booth before his eyes once again come to settle on the strange little opera unfolding onstage. The blonde girl, Skeletal and Strong. Her eyes frantically dart from person to person, as if caught in the middle of an argument. She looks confused, Bewildered, A little out of her element. And he was under the impression all these street girls were hard as nails.

She turns to Xemnas, Measuring him, calculating something behind glimmering blue eyes, and it's an exchange Saix doesn't overlook. She's captured his attention, His eyes fixed curiously on her withering little frame.

Suddenly, a collective gasp, a sharp intake of breath, Tense shoulders and clenched fists, the little blonde leaps offstage, wading through the crowd, desperately searching for something.

She is the white among the black. Her white dress, Ivory skin, Blonde hair, struggling through the melting and moulding darkened shadows of the nightlife.

The crowd moves, flinching away, Pushing forward, Eager to see what captured the dancers attention, Reluctant to admit it's not them. The music keeps blaring, Techno beats pumping in his ears. From his slightly raised position, He see her mouth move, Can't hear the words she's calling.

That pretty mouth will frame the phrases that'll drag this city to its knees.

Not even Saix' trained hearing can pick up on her desperate pleas. All he can do is sink back into himself, and watch with the same helplessness the rest of the audience have been reduced to.

Her hands reach out, grasping the air. She's fighting to reach the bar. Saix sneers, Alcoholism just another proud achievement to add to her list.

Quickly losing interest in the scene that captures so much attention, Saix once more resorts so checking on his superior, although something by the bar catches his attention. Axel, Enveloped in the arms of a woman whose features he cannot see. Her face buried in his throat, bleeding him dry, while he surveys the room for his next victim. It's not so unusual so see Axel's promiscuous nature on display, but for some reason, this scene looks familiar. The positions, the expressions, and the conflicting emotions attached. Axel digs his fingers into her scalp, roughly pulling her lips up to meet his own, Always a fan of violence. In the split second it takes her hazy aqua eyes to settle on Axel's lips, the alarm bells deafen Saix. She's pulling him towards the back doors Xigbar had informed him of earlier.

Larxene.

Strange how after painful years of emotional torment, She returns, Eager and willing to latch onto Axel once more, Despite his suspicious track record.

Unless of course. He had been misled.

There was never any danger for Xemnas. There was no threat. He wasn't going to die here tonight.

Axel was.

---

You watched Melody's human display with a tugging feeling in your heart. A pain in your lungs. Your organs felt under pressure, and your eyes stung with frustration. Your possessive nature takes control, and to see her chew up and spit out some stranger, Underlines and highlights exactly what I is she does for a living. A painful reminder.

A kick in the teeth.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Axel, Finding a temporary drug in a face from his past. It's an intimacy you long for, although it's dangerous. There's a violent undertone to their desperate grasps and clashes of teeth. Her nails rake his back, and he finds his control with nails dug into her scalp, Ribbons of blonde tangled around his silver rings.

Glancing back towards the stage, your heart stops and sinks to see it empty. Another abandonment issue. Frantically searching the club from your position by the bar, you need Melody. It's only when you focus, you notice the eerie silence under the heavy music, the nervous shuffling and watchful eyes. The crowd parts close to you, And Melody's frantic face bursts from the dark shadows. Your gasp of surprise is the last air you can manage before she's there, Crushing her lips against yours, Pressing you into the bar.

It's rushed, and desperate, and harsh. Exactly how she leaves you feeling, and you relate. This is what you need.

The many eyes, the bursting jealousy, It's heavy on you, Makes you anxious, Nervous. But Melody doesn't react, why would she? You're confident this crowd have seen more of her than she'll expose to you tonight.

She groans, Frustrated against your lips, her jaw still working frantically. She's begging for attention, but for some reason, you can't drag your mind from your concerns about Axel. She's scraping at your bare skin with stubby nails, the other hand frantically struggling at your jeans. You can't understand why this feels so forced. This feigned love is the best you can hope for, And you deal, with your dry mouth and her vice grip between your thighs.

---

Axel tugs Larxene's mouth from his. The perfect jigsaw puzzle. She refuses to meet his eyes, fixated, Obsessed with his lips, Bruised and bleeding.

His fetish rough and tumble.

A poster child for Sadistic Personality Disorder.

He grins, groaning for dramatic effect as her frail hand weasels its way under tight leather to his inner ache. She shuffles, Hand placed on his chest, guiding him towards the back door. And he knows. Suspicious of her actions, Confident he can take her. Oblivious to the amount of Alcohol in his system.

He places his rough hands on her forearms, with enough pressure to make prints. Something he'll pride himself on. Something he's always prided himself on. The rage overcomes the lust in her eyes as he stalls for time, but she plays along, desperately struggling to hold onto her sanity. Axel glances over his shoulder, yelling over the deafening beat, wondering how Roxas deals with this trashy grown up world they've managed to cultivate.

"Hey Roxas, Blondie Boy!" He calls to the ceiling, Voice slurred under the influence. His words are directed at no where in particular, although they reach the ears of the mismatched little family they make up.

Roxas hesitantly peels himself away from the frail, blonde little dancer. Eyes struggling to focus on Axel, The painted streaks of white and red. The haunting jade eyes.
Roxas feels, more than hears, Melody inquiring as to who it is, her glossed lips brushing against the join of shoulder and neck.

Before he can piece an answer together she glances up, her body suddenly rigid, her breathing suddenly ceased.

"Axel?"

"Fuckin' hell, Demyx?"

Suddenly Roxas feels like he's standing those few feet apart from the family in the photo again.

---

Well. Now what do i do. Yah'know, I think i'm getting a black eye. Anyway, Half of this probably doesn't make any sense, But it's a-ok, Cause half the time i don't even know what the deuce i'm on about. So yeah, Any questions and i'll try answer 'em.

Yah'know, I think i might just go ahead and bump up the rating? I don't think it needs to be at all, But some people, Yah never know!

But cheers to everyone who's had anything to do with this story so far!