Loving The Rock star (Lesbian Story)

Loving The Rockstar (girlxgirl)

The blinding flashes from the harsh strobe lights cause white spots in my vision. I look to my left, seeing a Pauly D wannabe sucking the face off of a blonde hair petite girl. The image is similar to a succubus vampire stealing the life from its prey. I scrunch up my nose in disgust, men. However, watching Count Douche Bag suck the saliva out of blondie over there is not my goal for tonight. No, tonight I have higher aspirations.

I fight my way through the thick crowd to the bartender, beckoning him over with my finger. He smiles showing perfectly straight yellow teeth. If his black shirt were any tighter, it would reveal his belly. Definitely needs to realize he's not a woman's small. "What can I do for you?" He smiles. His slicked back hair makes me think of greasers and I suddenly feel like I should be taking a shot with Dally.

"I'll take a Red Bull and vodka, please." He obliges and mixes me my drink. This is my third one, and I'm sure this one will finally make me tipsy. I hand him a five dollar bill and flee before any other fictional characters pop into my imagination. The music from the dark club vibrates through me. I can feel my body shake each time the bass drops. My apprehension towards my goal grows minute by minute. Is this kind of thing always going to be this hard? No wonder dating websites are a thing.  

Dancing alone, I move with the rhythm. Not so much as to seem like I actually enjoy the music but enough to not look like a pompous ass. This isn't a classmates house party, none of these people are in high school. I at least need to blend in.

Taking a sip from my drink, I feel someone wrap their hands around my waist. The body pulls me in against them, and my senses finally kick in. I look up, it's a guy similar to Mr. Crabs. His face is beet red. "Care to dance?" He grins. I squash his foot with my heel like any woman trained to deal with misogynistic men and add a middle finger just to top it all off. He immediately yells curses and clutches his now hurt toe. Which basically means I should get out of his sight.

Checking my watch, the time says 11. With my 8 a.m. History class starting to seem like more of a priority, I take one final look around. I guess I'll have to come back again another time. The music still moves through my body, piercing my ears. A head ache is already starting to form. I head for the front door but see Mr. Handsie (the guy who tried to dance with me) standing with a scowl. Hmm, I don't think I want to see him again. Too late, he sees me. I duck down but it seems his eyes are in better shape than his toe.

"Hey come back you little bitch!" He yells. I run because there was no proper hiding spot, heading towards the back of the club. Thankfully, there is a back exit. There's always a back exit. The world seems to whirl by me as I maneuver my way through the drunk bodies. Like zombies all in tune with the surrounding beat, it's like fighting my way through brick walls. Finally reaching the door, I fling the latch open and stop to catch my breath. I wait a minute, the guy doesn't find me.

Thank you lord, you really saved me this time. Collapsing against the brick wall, I bury my face in my hands, letting a tear escape. I don't normally cry but tonight just kind of failed. If anything, I created more problems for myself.

It seems like time slows by, keeping me lost in my thoughts. "Hey, you alright?" Just ignore the voice, the person doesn't actually care about how you feel. "Excuse me? I asked you a question." Doesn't this person get it, I don't want to talk. Clearly, they have really bad social skills. This night has been a giant disaster. Suddenly, I feel a smooth leg against mine and hear shuffling. "Well if you aren't going to tell me what's wrong, I'm going to sit here till you do."