They see my brain melting,
and the only thing I tell them is I'm living for the present and the future don't exist.
So baby take your clothes for a chance like this.

I think you lost your morals girl, but it's okay 'cause you don't need them where we're going.

These were the happiest days of her life, and still they were filled with an inordinate amount of trouble and debauchery. Perhaps that's how she liked it best, so fucking mixed up and hallucinatory. Everything multicoloured and forever phasing in and out of consciousness.

In a world where badness wasn't black but red and bad boys weren't heartbreakers but anyone immune to her will and wish. Those who resisted following her around, hanging off her lace or following with lustful eyes.

Boys, she was told, would ruin her, hurt her, use her. Oh poor innocent Bella, sweet, unstable Bella. Boys, she found, were too easy to mould to her wishes, too easy to corrupt, too stupid to notice.

And there were girls, girls with demure, watery blue eyes behind pale lashes. Girls who giggled and whispered 'whore' and other associated terms for females with black hearts and comfortable beds. But she didn't care.

Bella was red.

Red lips, which dripped with lust and desire, the scent of her last victim swirling around her. Lips all too ready to capture another victim, drain it of passion and leave it exhausted on her floor in a heap of clothes. Lips hiding a champion trained tongue, ears accustomed to only the most desperate of moans, the most content of sighs.

Because in worlds of red, where silk sheets were emerald green and soft, where egos and necks were bruised and battered, brains blown and hearts tattered, she was powerful. This was her haven, the only place on earth where women who prowled like tigers were worshiped, freaks and anomalies where venerated.

Bella was red.

Bella was black.

Promiscuous flowers everywhere wilted as she glided past, because she wasn't in it because of a broken heart or desperation. She wasn't in it to tease, one who entered into those games just to prove that they did know how to please.

She was a goddamn slut, but she was regal. Invitation only.

Dangerous, and boys like that were too intrigued by danger. It was fast, it was exciting. With her it was horrifically hazardous.

Unforgettable, inerasable.

Everything was just red, red, red.

The Weeknd - Loft Music