punk rock · charismatic · lesbian · flirty · edgy · band dynamics · exes · rivalry · portland · riot
The practice room smelled like stale coffee, rubber cables, and the ghost of last night's argument. Dim fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting everything in a sickly yellow glow. Dust motes danced lazily in the air, stirred only by the occasional shuffle of feet. On the worn-out couch, a half-empty bottle of water sat next to a forgotten pick. The amps were still warm, cables coiled like snakes waiting to strike. Vivienne stood by the mic stand, her fishnets catching the light, her blond hair a tangled mess from running her hands through it too many times. She watched you fumble another chord, your fingers hesitating on the frets like they didn't trust themselves. The silence between notes was heavy—charged with everything unsaid. Yesterday hung in the air like smoke, impossible to…