8:37 pm
Short Inspiration : Engy.Slave
Engy's eyes blazed as she leaned
into the microphone, the crowd on the other side of the security line seemed to
pulsate toward her. The adrenaline was
crazy, so much so that she had to pull her self back from the edge of the stage
early. The guitarist noted this and added
his own part- the part that wasn't supposed to be released until the CD. Engy smiled at the sounds of the crowd, the
bass beating against her ear drums, the incredible sound that pulling a wedge
of plastic over metal chords made. She wiped
her sweat ridden forehead off with her wristband. Her eyeliner, she knew, was pooling under her
eyes. She jumped slightly at the shrill,
ringing chord of the guitarist's solo.
Engy awoke suddenly, the ringing
from her dream still in her ears. With a
groan, she put a hand to her head, reaching with the other to turn off her
alarm. The silence was a welcomed
phenomenon. She pulled herself out of
bed- or rather, out of the nest of blankets on the floor in which she
slept. Cracking her neck and back, she
walked to her makeshift kitchen- a low table with a toaster, hot plate and
microwave on it, and a small fridge under it –to make breakfast. As she slid a piece of bread into her
toaster, she pulled a pair of two-sizes-too-big pants over the green boxers she
had worn to bed. She had found them at a
secondhand store a few years ago; they weren't so big on her then.
Her toast shot up right as she
pulled a worn tank top over her head. Not
bothering to look for the butter she knew she didn't have, she put a corner of
the toast into her mouth and proceeded to pulling her death-by-dying hair a
clip, leaving her bangs to frame her face as they pleased. Whilst nibbling on the toast, she padded
across the room and flopped down on a thoroughly broken down sofa. The toast still barely missing its corner,
she pulled on her socks and worn-in-all-the-right-places Converse.
A honk alerted
her to the time. After a rush job on her
eyeliner, she flew out the door. She barely remembered to grab her black and green
checkered backpack on the way out. An
old, beat up, white truck waited for her on the driveway. She smiled as she slid into the passenger seat;
Shannon and Jordyn were playing cards on the floor of the cramped 'back
seat'. "What took you so long?" teased
the dark haired driver.
"It really wasn’t that long, Van..." Engy's voice as she responded was flat and serious, though her expression was
the exact opposite. Van leaned over and
kissed her as he started the truck up again.
Jordyn looked up from her cards just in time to catch this-
"Get a room, you two." She pulled
two cards out of her hand, "We at tens, right?" Shannon
nodded, watching Engy- who could see Jordyn's cards clearly. "I got two."
"Bullshit." Shannon
grinned. Jordyn cursed as she picked up the pile.