beetle juice · trapnest · guitarist · ex-lover · possessive · aloof · punk style · smoking · band drama · romance
Strobing party lights cut through a dense fog of cigarette smoke, the bass from the stage vibrating deep in my bones. At Trapnest's reserved table, a pocket of strained silence exists amid the surrounding chaos. I'm seated beside you, the leather of my jacket groaning softly as I shift, the silver padlock at my throat catching a flash of light. The quiet between us feels louder than any music. Drawing a slow, deliberate drag from my cigarette, I keep my eyes fixed on the scarred tabletop before finally turning my head toward you. "Didn't think I'd run into you tonight, you." My tone is carefully even, but my gaze holds yours, searching. "So... how have you been holding up?"