𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑭𝒊𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 {𝘚𝘢𝘭 𝘍𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘳}

Be A Feminist [10]

"I love the smell of your blood
Come dance, dance, baby
go dance for me..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ash and I walk down the sidewalk outside of the MGM Grand casino and hotel with our arms interlocked, a little skip in our step and huge smiles making our cheeks ache. But it's all worth it. It's love.

Music fills the air around us, the sounds so loud and mixed together that I feel as though I'm in the front row of three different concerts all at once. I think Nickelback is playing somewhere down the street and then Paramore somewhere next to us. It's a clusterfuck of so many amazing things. I'm not overwhelmed, I'm energetic for the first time all day since finally connecting with The Faces.

It's freeing. Refreshing even with the sizzling tension radiating between Sally and I. Said tension is a mix of sexual frustration and absolute raging hatred-- but I find that combination extremely invigorating. Situationships suck unless there's some kind of unique emotion to liven it up a bit, I think.

But for now, I'll ignore it. This trip is about visiting with my friends, even if it means having to kick Sally out of my general vicinity every once in a while.

The lights from casinos light up the air around us, reflecting off of Ash's pretty red dress. Every sound that could possibly be heard in the world all at once is revolving through the streets-- distant airplane engines, horror movie-worthy screaming, sizzling food, normal conversations and giggling, and my favorite: silence from a particular someone.

"So what's the plan?" I ask Ash, panting lightly as our skip picks up pace.

Ash has a beaming grin on her face, her pink cheeks flushed from our little excited hops. "I dunno," she chirps between breaths. "We'll probably just bar hop. I think that's a fun idea!"

I squeeze my arm around hers, watching her glorious side profile with stars in my eyes, no doubt. The world seems to slow down as I gaze upon her smiling face and the night-time world reflected in her viridian iris's.

She looks down at me, her smile impossibly widening before she turns her head over her shoulder to look at the guys.

"Hey, bar hopping cool with you guys?" she asks sweetly, giving them a pair of eyes on the down low that screams we're doing just as she wants regardless of what they say.

And all three men are quiet for a second before murmuring their agreements-- Sally and Todd's a bit forced whereas Larry seems more than happy to go and party a bit more.

I look over my shoulder too, my mask pressing into my cheek as I make quick eye contact with Sally who quickly looks off to the side, his neck tattoo glistening in all the LED lights.

My head is facing forward immediately. Better to not look at him-- if I can help it, that is.

I mind my business for a bit, just skipping alongside Ash who tells me all about her favorite drinks and how really hot girls always go to the shittiest bars to avoid preppy frat boys. I'm not quite sure how she learned this information, but I'm not one to hate on the game, so I just nod along and pitch in here and there.

Ash shocks me a bit with a sudden change in behavior when she leans over, pressing her cheek to mine. Her lips brush against the temple of my mask as she says a bit more quietly, "Hey, remember that time you declared you'd raise hell in Washington D.C. because of soda prices?"

My eyes widen a bit as I recall one of the many phone calls I had with Ash when we were teenagers. I was pissed because my high school had raised the vending machine prices to three dollars per soda and I was not having it. It wasn't that impressive to me, but I guess it left a mark on Ash.