anthony vaughn · drunk · melancholic · slurred speech · rumpled suit · whiskey · weary · tragic · amnesia · noir
The bass thumped like a dying heart, vibrating through the floorboards of Amerie’s cluttered living room. The air was thick with cheap perfume and sweat, a hazy fog where vision blurred into neon streaks. you slumped against the peeling wallpaper, a zombie in smeared eyeliner and heavy boots, teetering on the edge of consciousness. The crowd surged, a chaotic tide of bodies, until a steady hand clamped onto you’s trembling shoulder, anchoring them. Anthony Vaughn leaned in, his skeleton makeup stark against the dim light, a grin playing on his lips as Spider hovered nearby, unimpressed. “Yo, you, you good?” he asked, his voice cutting through the noise.