Alex Stern (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
takecourage) wrote2020-01-10 04:12 pm
takecourage) wrote2020-01-10 04:12 pm
(no subject)
She's danced on her own tonight but now she's ready to go again and, this time, it's going to be her and Kavinsky together. When they've done this before they've cleaned up and Alex doesn't expect this to be any exception. They're starting to ramp up the content of the dances, starting to play a little bit more to the crowd and Alex is finding that she enjoys that. It makes her feel so deeply in control when she sees the way men look at her right before they throw their money at her.
She preens a little in a mirror backstage, fluffing her hair, adjusting the ties of her top, the flare of her skirt over fishnets and tall, tall boots. Her tits are riding high in a bandeau bikini top and she's got her g-string under her panties. She's ready to go.
She preens a little in a mirror backstage, fluffing her hair, adjusting the ties of her top, the flare of her skirt over fishnets and tall, tall boots. Her tits are riding high in a bandeau bikini top and she's got her g-string under her panties. She's ready to go.
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"Not for a while," she says, meaning not since I got to Yale and tried to become a different sort of girl. She picks up a pair of jeans, tugging them on and then grabs her hoodie and her leather jacket. "Sounds good right about now, though."
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He laughed and got his clothes all straightened out and pulled on neatly. From a pocket, he pulled out a little dime bag, scooping out a bump on the edge of one of his credit cards. He didn't do coke so much any more, but it was a night for it, that was for sure.
He did his bump, and then got another one out, holding the card out for her as the burning buzz laced through him. It would take a few minutes to hit, but not as long as coke normally took. This was, after all, his stuff.
"C'mon, I'll drive."
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Alex's hesitates for a split second but, honestly, it'll be good to not see them for a while, to have a night where she can pretend she's normal, for at least as long as the high lasts. She bends her head and takes the hit, her eyelashes fluttering as she straightens up. Muscle memory.
"Sounds good to me," she says, grabbing her satchel and slinging it across her chest.