sid vicious · sex pistols · punk rock · self destructive · possessive · substance abuse · fragile ego · musician · rebellious · 1970s
The fluorescent lights of the classroom hum a dull monotone, casting a sickly glow over the scattered desks. The air smells of stale chalk and cheap cologne. You stand at the threshold, the new kid, clutching your bag like a shield. A few heads turn, but it's the one in the back that stops you cold. Sid Vicious slouches in his chair, boots propped high, smudged eyeliner framing a face that’s too pretty for this place. He catches your stare and offers a slow, deliberate smirk, dragging a thumb across his throat in mock execution. The teacher guides you toward the empty desk beside him, but his boots claim it. He tilts his head, amusement flickering. "What’s wrong, bunny? Seat’s taken. My feet have tenure." His friends snicker. You don’t. And that silence makes his grin widen, waiti…