tattered & torn | joey jordison x fem!reader

2. cold

'alison' - slowdive

⛧

"Where are we going?" You run up beside him, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"I've realised I'm late to band practice and I don't wanna be a dick and ditch you here, so I'm bringing you along." He replies, still looking in front of him.

"Oh, cool."

The two of you eventually reach his car and quickly get in. You speed through traffic and pull up in front of a nice looking house. Mick grabs a metal-textured mask and shoves it onto his face, which you don't question. You get out and follow Mick to the front door as he opens it, letting himself in. He quickly walks down a flight of stairs, leading to a basement. You pause at the top, peering down. Mick stops and notices, looking up at you.

"Are you trying to kidnap me?" You ask.

"If that was my plan, I would've tied you up and shoved you in the back of my car."

You feel your eyes widen a little.

"But it's not, so relax."

You shrug your shoulders. Oh well. You make your way down the stairs, each step creaking loudly. You hear loud music playing as you approach the bottom of the stairs, following close behind Mick.

"Mick! Where the hell have you-"

The same voice from the phone earlier yelled loudly, pausing abruptly. The voice came from a guy wearing a creepy looking mask with thick dreads hanging off it. He was wearing a bright red jumpsuit. (A/N: listen ik it was the green jumpsuits back in 2001 but i love the red ones too much so they'll be in this story)

And so were the other 7 people in the room.

You glanced quickly around the room. All of them had masks on.

'What freaky fucking cult is this.'

Mick clears his throat.

"Oh, uh, this is my friend, (Y/N)."

"Hi." You wave, standing just beside Mick.

"Yeah yeah, I don't have time for this. (Y/N), or whatever your name was, go sit on the couch or something."

"I'm going." You reply quickly, making sure not to anger him more.

You quickly walk over to the couch in the corner of the room, letting yourself sink into it. You watch quietly as they prepare their instruments, looking around at each of them, observing their masks. You focused on each of them, one by one. You stared at the drummer, quickly looking away as he looks back at you for a split second. As they started playing again, you ended up glancing at an electric guitar nearby. You decide to lean over and have a strum, since you were quite good at it. Your dad taught you a lot to keep your mind off from the divorce. You decided to play (F/S) as it was the first thing that came to your mind. You tuned out from the loud metal and focused on the guitar. You strummed for a bit before you came back into reality, realising that the group was now packing up.

'Already? Had time gone by that quickly?'

You sat there crossed legged and waited for Mick to retrieve you. You watched one of the group members walk up to you in your peripheral vision. You glanced up from the guitar and looked up at the person. They had long straight hair with red streaks in it.

"Oh- sorry, is this yours?"

"No no, I'm on drums, that's probably Mick's spare. I'm not sure." His slightly muffled voice said from behind the mask.

"Oh okay."

Silence stood between the two of you as the rest of the men walked around putting their instruments away.