Bastille Imagines

Someone's Daughter

A/n: lol guess what song inspired this :)

There's always two outcomes in the end. Either 1) he leaves you the next morning or 2) you leave him.

You don't quite know where you picked up this deviant lifestyle of yours from, but despite from what seems like an unorthodox way of living you still chase the thrill that comes with it. Every night is different. Every night tells a new story. Every night you become even more addicted to what you do. The night itself isn't even what you strive for, it's the morning after: documenting every little detail, adapting it into a masterpiece of literature with your dynamic ideas combined with your eloquent vocabulary. And to your success, your work has caught the eyes of many people and with an audience as big as yours, you never waste a moment to make the next story better than the last.

Sure sleeping with cold, apathetic men for a pastime does seem a little dangerous, but what's life without a little risk? You can't deny mistakes have been made and yes, you've maybe questioned your way of living once or twice, but it all pays off with the fulfilling sense of pride and achievement you get from the praise of your followers. You yearn for it. It's your drug. 

However critical or scathing some people may be towards your hobby - condemning your lack of morals or disapproving of how you use your sexuality to your advantage - there is no possible way that you could live any differently. It's just what you do and there's nothing on this planet that can change that.

It doesn't hurt you in any way, at least not emotionally. You're no more than capable of leaving them with no strings attached. To you, they're a project. To them, you're just that strange girl that seduced them to her bedroom, the girl they spent the night with and the girl they never heard from again. To them, you're just someone's daughter.

~~~~

You sit alone in your room, isolated from the world as you lose yourself to some of your best work. Every now and then you like to read over them, pointing out some of the best bits and simply because of nostalgia plaguing your mind. Memories spark up remembering each night with every descriptive sentence you read.

Right now you're reading one of the more macabre ones: your latest entry where things got a little out of hand. He wanted more but you had had enough. That night was cut short unfortunately leaving a disappointing ending to your story which not many of your followers appreciated.

Reading enough, you set out to get ready for another night determined to find your inspiration to make the next story much, much better than the last.

The local pub is always a prime hunting ground. It's never certain as to what kind of guy you go for, or what one you'll end up with, but as long as you have your inspiration for tomorrow's entry then it's just a matter of time. At first glance you cancel out the men that are too old, too young or look like they're in a relationship leaving you with a small number of men to choose from. Your eye catches the tall man at the bar: large, built, a buzz cut that could haunt and a jaw line that could kill. After not being too dissimilar to the man from your last entry, you decide to cross him off the list, not wanting a repeat of that night...

Your eyes pan over to tonight's performer: tall, somewhat lanky with youthful, innocent blue eyes that has you falling head over heels for. Him. Tonight it's going to be him.

"Hi, uhh, I'm Dan, and this is my song."

For a while you stay simply listening to the beautiful voice on stage playing behind the keyboard that's been graffitied with his name in big bold letters, thinking of the many ways that you could catch his eye just as easily as he caught yours. During the performance he seems to find the courage to occasionally make eye contact with you, his smile perching up the side of his lips ever so discretely every time he does so. It's one thing you notice that you never seem look any further than your inspiration's appearance. But now, watching this dainty man flail about on stage you start to acknowledge his characteristics, diving deeper below the surface. Every now and then there'll be an instinctive gesture, more often than not it will be his hand running through his hair which you admit that if you ever get the slightest opportunity of doing, you wouldn't even hesitate. Then there's the clear expression on his face that describes him in one word. Passionate. It makes you wonder whether he's just as passionate in bed than he is on stage singing. Well, you hope you'll get to find that out.