Impurity

We can't rewind- #2

Being a celebrity sucks. She doesn't care what anyone else thinks, being a celebrity fuckin' blows. If she could take it all back, the songs, the performances, everything, she would. In a heartbeat. The crowds, and harassment isn't worth it. The fans aren't worth it. Fuck anyone who says they are, they're lying. They really mean your wallets are.
Even Marina must admit, it does feel good knowing you have more money than what most people could even imagine. Not that it's going to any use. It could've gone to a charity but no fuck that, it went to her personal cigarette fund. Speaking of which...
She lit a cigarette, her favorite kind with the red tips and breathed in.
"Hey, you can't smoke in here."
"Shut up and drive."
The taxi driver didn't pipe up again. She rolled her eyes, muttered how he's a moron, and breathed in again. She rolled down the windows and watched as the billowing smoke disappear into the wind.
"We're here."
Marina sighed, threw out the cigarette, shelled out a couple thousand G, shoved it into the cupholder next to the driver, climbed out, and slammed the door shut. The taxi speeds off into the night. She looks at the chic, glass-window building from the outside. The thumping house music that haunts her dreams and drives her insane is shot directly into her brain and leaks out of her ears. She hates it. Despises it. It crawls across her skin and makes her want to vomit.
But there's no absolute chance of getting out. Suck it up you whiny bitch baby. Be glad the front entrance is empty you fucking pig.
She slaps herself, hoping to give herself +5 determaination. It half works, and she heads inside.
The bouncer at the entrance gives her bit of a look, nods, and lets her in. Immediately, she can see young inklings in skimpy outfits grinding on each other. Oh Cod, led me strength. She had hoped with all her heart it wasn't... that kind of party. But Cod hates her, apparently, and her she was. Music so loud you can't hardly think, expensive alcohol in colorful shades, skimpy clothing that revealed fresh young flesh in the dozens, and bright lights that spun and danced across the floor... What was she doing here?
She traveled straight to the bar, already she could here whoops and yells and the "hey looks! It's marina!"
"What's she doing here?"
She ignored them, and hoped that at least her god was merciful enough to spare her from the paparazzi.She sat down at the white, "modern" barstools and waved the bartender over.
"What would you like miss?" The bartender had a "man bun" with tentacles shaved off the sides, and spoke in a posh, clearly fake accent.
"Can it brainiac, I just want something that's strong enough to get me away from this place."
The bartender nodded and grabbed a few multi-colored bottles, stirring and whisking them around into some sort of concoction. Marina wasn't impressed and looked around to see a couple models walking around, the new toni kensa clothing wasn't really her style. There seemed to be a girls and boys school uniform, a black and white pants suit, and... well, from what Bare-foot-Octo-boy was wearing, just some shorts and a white tank top. No shoes, of course.
He looked bored and sat a table, flipping through his shellphone. Ignoring the chaos around him. Cod she wished that was her. Why didn't she think of that? Well, I guess drinking yourself silly isn't that bad a option. That was how she survived....
Those first...
Few...
Months...
She immediately downed the drink that was handed to her and slammed it onto the counter, ice in it tinkling against the glass.

"Woah..."
"Look at her."
"So pathetic, look at her. Drowning her sorrows in alcohol. How pathetic."
"She's really gone downhill."
"She never was the same after-"
She yells over the voices, 'GIMME A DRINK, BARTENDER!"
The bartender, most likely thinking how he isn't paid enough for this, sighs and gives up on mixing around a bunch of colorful drinks. He bends down, sets a bottle of bourbon, a fresh glass with a pink colored squid-lemon as a decoration, and some ice. Then turned to serve someone else. Marina greedily forces the bottle open, and pours it into her mouth. The bartender looked at her appalled. She flipped him off and finished off the bottle. The bottle is slammed onto the counter, ice in the glass jingling in harmony. Then wiped her mouth off with her sleeve.
A whistle pierces through the air, out of habit, her head whips around to the culprit. Oh. It's some random-ass fuck boy. He looks at him with his shaved smooth tentacles, and tanned skin.
"Daaaaaamn girl, that was a whole bottle of bourbon. You sure know how to hold yer liquor, don'tcha?" he looked her up and down with a sly smile. She wanted to puke up her guts all over him.
"Wuzzit to you?"
"Nuthin. It's just that I like my women like I like my coffee, pipin' hot and full of cream." he winked, and Marina wanted to fucking die. Take out a knife, and watch as as the blood drip out from her body slowly...
And her body...
Crumple to the ground...
Drip, drip.
"Hey, hey" he snaps his fingers at her, she scowls and jerks her head away. "Pay attention when I'm talkin' yeah?"
"Excuse me?" she spits out.
"I'd just hate for a lucky girl like you to miss out."
"...I'm not interested thank you." she turns her nose up at him.
"Aw come on? Why not?"
"Please, why would I be interested in you? I could have any guy in here."
He scoffs, "Yeah right. You and me both know you're all washed up. Yer being replaced as we speak."
"Better replaced than with you."
"Is it because of what happened to her? Look that was like what, 2 years ago? You need to move-"
"YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I NEED! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!" She knocks off both glasses into the floor. The entire "event" goes silent, all beady eyes on her.

"Poor thing..."
"She's such a mess."
"She's drunk."
"She shouldn't be here."
"What the hell is she doing?"
Even bare-foot-octo-boy's eyes where on her. Dark sunglasses masking his expression.
She stands up and rushes out, shoving past people, the exit welcomes her, thank cod, home free-
"THERE SHE IS!"
Bright flashes surround her, blindingly white, she rubs her eyes and stumbles back
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU DAMN RATS!"
"Marina! Marina! Over here! Our readers want to-"
Voices talked over and circled around her, oh cod get away GET AWAY!
"Can you talk to us about-"
"DO NOT SAY HER NAME!"

It happened so quick. Before she knew it people were running away, screaming, yelling. She stared at her hand. Sharp nails and hand dripping with blood. Drops falling to the ground. Drip, drip.
And the injured body of a paparazzi on the ground.
Drip, drip.