#but I'm 1. just trying to churn out a lil something for the prompt

[nuclearanomaly]

18 – Fish out of Water

wc. 568 | Bookshop AU

Sorry it's self (Nini) deprecating angst.

Ninira didn’t much like navigating the crowds of venues. She usually arrived early, sat in a seat and stayed there until the flow of people towards the door was manageable enough for her to handle. Any time she did dare to brave the crowd she tried to make sure she did so with a friend close by. 

Estinien had joined her this time, for which she was grateful, she had needed the washroom, while he had stopped by the bar to grab a drink. He was now leading the way back to the table, Ninira following close as he parted the crowds enough for her to slip after him. They were nearly back to the group when a gaggle of girls intercepted them, or more specifically Estinien. 

Two Au Ra, and a Miqo'te. Ninira couldn’t hear well over the din of the venue but it was evident what they wanted. A picture, something signed. Nastrond might not be famous by any means but they still gathered crowds, and fans. They clustered around, eager to speak with him and Ninira couldn’t help but notice how much more they seemed to fit in, especially when she compared them to herself. 

They were tall, pretty, slender legs in torn jeans and fishnet tights. Thick platform boots and dark smokey makeup. One wore a Nastrond shirt that she had clearly modified herself, transforming it into a grungy sleeveless crop top. It suited her, she looked like she was made to wear it.

Ninira’s own band shirt felt baggy and awkward in comparison. 

One was eagerly taking Estinien’s drink, offering to hold it for him, while the one in the Nastrond shirt pressed up close beside him, cheeks flushed. Their remaining friend, holding up a phone to get the perfect shot. She stepped back, forcing Ninira back into the crowd as she almost trod on Ninira’s toes, unaware she was even there. 

They had no reason to notice her, she was just Estinien’s scruffy knee high shadow, following after him in hopes no one looked too closely and realized she didn’t belong.

She swallowed, a sudden lump in her throat. 

The entire venue seemed to bore down on her, the crowd around her a sea of looming people who were all effortlessly coordinated. She was like a puzzle piece noticeably forced into the wrong hole, trying to act like she fit, like she matched. Her band shirt felt like a lie. Like at a glance anyone could deduce she was some fake of a fan. 

The lump in her throat seemed to swell, it was hard to breathe. The venue was already so crammed, so stuffy. She needed to leave, to get outside. 

Her jacket and bag are back at the table, it seems stupid to go back for them, she knows this but logic is hardly fulling her actions. She is panicking, pushing through the crowd until it suddenly breaks and she’s back at the table, snatching her things.

She’s half aware of her quick reply. “Need to go.” To the confused questions from her friends, if they even think of her as such, as she grabs her belongings and pushes back into the crowd. She can’t dawdle, can’t allow for the possibility for anyone to see the way the lump in her throat has now become a burning behind her eyes. 

Crying here will just make her stand out even more.