shititskat

[thosefour]

the crowd was beginning to thin out, much to the dismay of the rookie band scheduled for 12 o’clock midnight. most people have places to be in the morning. lectures to attend. or for the arguably more pathetic, saturn-return demographic, lovely wives to kiss before that wretched 6 AM commute. shitty diapers to change. bosses to dick-suck and deliver a half-sugar, half-cream medium coffee straight to their desk because promotion sounds a lot like yes, boss. yes, sir! micky could go for a lovely wife right about now. or a dick-suck. he’ll pass on the diaper.

their gig was at 10. an hour-long set. the perfect time. the audience is always nice and warmed up by then. so much so that even if the band plays like shit, they’ll surely forget about it when they wind up piss-drunk, bent over the dirty loo and on the verge of a black out. the kid’s right warmed up himself, an elbow planted firm on the bar’s counter like some sort of hot-shot. his band mates fucked off for the rest of the night. probably to find a honey for their arm elsewhere, or to see what kind of trouble they could get up to at the swan dive down the road. oi, there's classier chicks over at the next one, mate. but he's never been one for convincing. micky does what micky wants! an idle hand slides a cross pendant along a thin silver chain that swoops along his neckline. it was a gift from his grandmother. he finds it cute and ironic. oh, micky, won’t you come to church with your family? you used to love the red juice! he curves his lips over his teeth and tucks the lord in that little crease it forms. boy, does he know a thing or two about sinning. and he’s on cloud nine—if there were clouds in hell, that is. it feels as though someone set fire to the fine hairs of his flesh, electric, as if every cell in his body draws sparks as they rocket through his blood stream. he’s intoxicated by it all. the light-headed high of getting off stage after a good set. the high of whatever that nice lad kindly placed on his tongue in the back room. he’s got his lashes lowered, a bit of a coy look to him as he makes eyes at the stranger he’s taken an interest in. he may or may not be moments from emptying his guts out onto the bar floor. what are you gonna do about it? [ approach him ]  [ ignore him ]  [ slug that smirk right off his disgusting little face !!! ]