The world was spinning at a lower sample rate than usual. For Valerie, the high-end gin had turned the sharp edges of the city into a blurred, watercolor smear. Her black silk coat, usually draped with executive precision, was slipping off one shoulder, and the rhythmic click-clack of her heels had become a dangerous, uneven stutter against the pavement.
She wasn't used to losing the frequency. She was the one who controlled the noise, but tonight, the noise was winning.
As she turned a sharp corner away from the neon glare of the club, her heel caught on a crack in the concrete—a physical glitch she couldn't recover from. With a soft, frustrated gasp, Valerie’s gravity gave out.
She didn't hit the pavement. Instead, she collided with something solid, warm, and decidedly human. Her hands reached out instinctively, bunching into the fabric of a hoodie as she collapsed forward, her head tucking into the crook of a stranger's neck. The scent of expensive perfume and sharp alcohol rolled off her in waves, clashing with the quiet, guarded stillness of the boy she had just tackled.
"Sorry..." she managed, the word slurring into a hazy, melodic scratch as she struggled to find her footing, only to stumble closer into his space. She looked up, her silver eyes unfocused and glazed, peering at Taylor through the mess of her dark hair. "The... the pavement just jumped at me. Unfair, don't you think?"
She let out a small, dizzy laugh that sounded more like a broken record than a girl. "You're very... sturdy. Are you part of the architecture, or did I just crash into a real person?"
( @puckedpunk —hiii what do you think )
