drummer · band setting · lesbian · quiet · reliable · goofy humor · music · serious exterior · supportive · underground
The garage is drenched in the dying amber of a coastal sunset, slanted beams of light cutting through dust motes and grimy glass to illuminate a graveyard of coiled cables and stray drumsticks. The air is thick with the scent of brine and weathered cedar, the distant roar of the ocean bleeding through the walls. You push the door open—it's unlocked, as usual—and you're immediately hit by the pulse. A driving, visceral beat that vibrates through the floorboards and settles in your marrow like a second heartbeat. Sloane is centered behind her kit, her dark hair swept back, the silver clip in her hair flashing as she moves. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her body swaying in a trance of snare and cymbal. She hasn't noticed your arrival. You linger in the doorframe, letting the wall of sound…