DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #22 - dyna? no. okay.

⚠️ mentions of drugs and sex. mentions of taboo topics ... and maybe bad taste jokes.

Also. This part is full of pop culture references because the writer said YES. ⚠️

'Can you just get outta here now? Been looking for you since ... forever '. He speaks, his fists still smacking hard and loud against the entrance door to the ladies' restroom. And my first thought is... if I don't open the door right now, he's gonna bust his fists open. I can't let this happen, he has to play a full set in not so long from now, and I treasure his limbs and his drumming skills. Even if they're still unknown to me. He could also be the shittiest drummer in Seattle, and I wouldn't know it because I've never heard him hitting a bunch of drums.
Sadly, I don't have any Phellus in Chains records in my collection. Sadly, Chrissie has sold all of hers to the nearest record store, when her affair with Sean came to an end. Just as sadly, I've never seen Phellus playing live, or I would've tried my luck on the indecently handsome drummer a while back. In some backstage. Right ?

My second thought is... he's been looking for me since forever? What's that mean? That he knew I was there? Since forever ? Not since when Layne told him he caught a glimpse of me towering in front of the sink, right next to the brunette with cum on her chest ? How did he know I was backstage, to even begin with ? Did he smell my cologne from afar and track me down like a sniff dog? Could be, you will be able to smell me before I even enter a room. Bonus, I remember him telling me I smelt good, while we were kissing at Cuntrell's party. And I remember telling him he tasted good, while his tongue was in my mouth, but that's not the matter of the issue right now. Silly Victoria.

Or... did he see my friends and reckon I was here with them? Asked them circa my whereabouts like I did with him at the party? Or did he see my flame red Triumph Bonneville pulled right next to his Kawasaki EL? And he began looking for the owner ... again, like I did with him at the party? What a sudden role reversal. Elusiveness score : Sean 1-1 Victoria. Victoria? My bad, I mean... Cherry.

'No'. I answer, trying to pull a Sean on Sean because I just can't seem to get rid of this inside joke that we've been sharing since the night we met. He tells me something, I answer with 'no' and he bites me back with 'okay'. Or the other way round, whatever the context is, for no actual reason except mutual entertainment. I find it deliriously funny, and honestly, I love sharing inside jokes with this guy. He cracks me up, he has me holding up my stomach laughing pretty damn often. And guess what, I can make him laugh too! I can't describe how mighty good it feels, when the elusive man curves his lips into a smile or slightly exposes his perfect teeth when I crack a joke that he finds funny. The sound of his laugh, muffled or blatant, always warms my love dummy cockles. I wish I were hugging him right now... but the door between us is still closed, and I ain't gonna open it. Why? Because I'm pulling a Sean on Sean. And I've made sure that the 'no' I've just uttered sounded as stone cold, deadass serious as possible.

'Okay... I'll get inside then'. He speaks from the other side of the door, a heartfelt laugh to accompany his words. My love dummy cockles? Warmed. My heart? Very happy. My lust for him? Fuelled. He's apparently cracking sex innuendos, all over again, and once again he ain't sounding like one of these horny goblins dying to stick it inside anything that moves. Like his blonde, horny horny bandmate Cuntrell. He's ... chasing me? Teasing me? Flirting with me? Telling me that he fancies me with actual respect and sick sense of humour? Sean? What have I done to deserve any of your attention? Even if it ends up being just for tonight?

'Literally all I've ever been wanting'. I bite him back, because sex puns are now apparently the flavour of our conversation. It once was biker jokes, now it's just flat out sex slang. And honestly, I don't despise it. I love this level of silliness we've unlocked. I want to fuck him, I've been wanting him since the moment my marijuana green eyes met his little, sarcastic brown ones in the pee queuing line at Cuntrell's party. Back to when I didn't know he was the owner of the the blue Honda Four in front of blondie primadonna's place. He wants to fuck me, I don't know since when, but I have evidence to back up the belief that he's got intentions to bed me now. But we're taking it easy. Keeping stuff funny. Acting like sex doesn't bother us... when I'm pretty sure that it does, to some extent. We are mental and that's an acquired fact by now, but we shall get physical ... before either one of the two of us gets bored and moves on to the next prey. Chasing is healthy. Too much chasing can lead to... flat out boredom.