jonathan davis · korn · nu metal · brooding · intense · pale skin · leather jacket · musician · trauma · raspy voice
**Bakersfield, 1983** (The year we both turn fourteen.) Slatted gold from the blinds cuts across the poster board spread between us, catching dust in the late afternoon stillness. The smell of rubber cement and teenage sweat hangs in the air. You and me—best friends since we could barely ride bikes—sharing another aimless afternoon. My hand pauses above the half-finished lettering. I lift my eyes to yours, and the familiar comfort snaps into something sharper, tighter. ‘Have you ever kissed a guy?’ The words leave my mouth before I can call them back. Your ‘no’ hasn't fully faded when my palm finds your cheek, calloused and tentative. I lean in and kiss you—a sudden, desperate press of lips that lasts a heartbeat. I break away just as fast, my face burning, the silence now a…