𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧' 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 ─────⋆⋅★𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘺

𝟎𝟑. 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤

As Lana's set progressed, Suki and Gracie screamed and sang along until their throats burned, their voices raspy from the relentless devotion they gave to each lyric. 

Suki could feel her heartbeat in her chest, in her ears, in her veins—it matched the rhythm of the music, the pulse of the night. 

Gracie's arm slung lazily over her shoulder, both of them breathless, eyes gleaming with excitement and the light sheen of sweat that came from losing yourself completely to the moment.

Madelyn leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to each of their cheeks, leaving the faint smell of strawberry lip gloss and salt air behind her. "I'm grabbing us another round," she shouted over the music, giving them a wink before disappearing into the crowd.

The familiar, dream-like opening of Brooklyn Baby drifted into the air, and without thinking, Suki and Gracie turned to each other, their eyes locked, their grins matching, as if they had no other choice but to dance. 

It was that unspoken thing between them—two girls so full of life, so in sync, they could be in their own universe.

 A universe that spun on its own axis, just for them.

Suki grabbed Gracie's hand, spinning her in a carefree twirl beneath the lights. 

They moved together, effortlessly, like small ballerinas in a world that was begging to watch them dance until they couldn't anymore. 

And they didn't care who was watching—they never did. That was the thing about Suki and Gracie. They weren't here for the show. They were the show.

Their laughter rang out over the crowd, harmonising with Lana's melancholic croon. Suki could feel the world fall away, the weight of the stage and the pressure of being Suki Monroe, the global pop star, vanishing in the space between her and Gracie. 

For a second, just a split second, she wasn't the girl whose face was on billboards or whose name filled arenas. She was just a girl, dancing with her best friend.

"You're such a lightweight," Suki teased, her voice breaking slightly, the rasp in her throat making her words come out in a low chuckle. Gracie playfully shoved her, their movements so fluid, so natural, like they'd danced this dance a thousand times before—like they knew every beat, every step by heart.

"Speak for yourself," Gracie shot back, twirling Suki this time, their laughter bubbling up like champagne, effervescent and pure.

The two of them looked like something out of a music video, the kind that made you feel nostalgic for a youth you never even had. 

The way their hair flew wildly, catching the stage lights in just the right way, how their eyes shone, so full of possibility and beauty, kissed by youth and life and the kind of reckless freedom that only came when you let go of everything weighing you down.