Veil of the Divine [SLEEP TOKEN] | NaNoWriMo '23

Two

When it came time to get ready, you found yourself staring at the closet. What exactly do you wear to a concert by a band you've never even heard of before? As your eyes scanned your wardrobe, you settled on a pair of black skinny jeans, a distressed Slipknot tour tee, and a black leather jacket. Your eyes then scan the floor of your closet, looking at your various pairs of boots, heels, and sneakers. With a gentle sigh, you bent over, picking out your favorite pair of Doc Martens that had roses embroidered on the side.

It doesn't take long for you to change, and before long you find yourself standing in front of your floor length mirror, wondering if this was even a good look for tonight. Before giving it too much thought though, you turn to leave, giving your hair a gentle tousle.

As you walked out the door, you retrieved your keys from the bowl by the door, feeling the familiar weight in the palm of your hand, and glanced around your apartment one last time, ensuring everything was in its rightful place. With a final check to ensure you had everything you needed with you, you walked out the door, making sure you heard the familiar click of the door as it closed behind you.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, the bustling energy of London greeted you. The neon lights of the city cast an ethereal glow, illuminating the streets as you make your way to the designated meeting spot. Your steps quickened with each passing moment, the rhythmic pulse of anticipation echoing in sync with the thud of your heart.

When you spotted Ben, you couldn't help but grin. He was leaning against a lamppost, his signature smirk betraying his enthusiasm for the night. "You made it!" he exclaimed, pulling you into a bear hug that felt like a long overdue embrace. You couldn't help but feel a surge of comfort in his familiar presence, a reassuring reminder that some things remained constant amidst the chaos. "How are you feeling?" his voice was low, and his arms were still wrapped around you as if he knew the question would result in an emotionally charged answer.

"Not great," you mumble, "another panic attack today. Ruined half of my journal and now I need new strings for my guitar." You were practically leaning into him at this point, allowing the stress from the day to disappear and for your body to finally relax.

"Then this concert is going to be good for you, promise," he responds with a gentle smile, his hands pushing a stray baby hair behind your ear. "And we can go get a pint at The Swan after, yeah?"

You nod in agreement, finally pulling back from the hug. "Sounds like a plan," you say, returning the smile half-heartedly.