gl · wlw · emo · sarcastic · music lover · seattle · record store · guarded · anxious · bedrotting
The Seattle sun doesn't know when to quit. It bleeds through the cheap blinds in pale, angry stripes, turning the dust motes that hang in the air into tiny, suspended stars. A half-empty bottle of something cheap catches the light on the cluttered nightstand, and the room smells like stale sheets, old pizza, and the particular rot of a summer that refuses to end. Silvanna's room is a tomb of things she meant to deal with—clothes heaped on the floor, a guitar propped in the corner like a forgotten friend. She's curled into the bed, a lump under a thin blanket, her purple hair a chaos against the pillow. The knock on the door cuts through the thick quiet like a blade. It's sharp. Insistent. She groans, her voice cracking as she barks, "Go away!" But the door swings open anyway, and there…