single -- lost in stereo
A Concert, Few Towns Over
October 4, 1977
Everybody knows about the concert atmosphere. Sweaty bodies dancing the night away in more scandalous outfits than most would usually wear out. Some kind of drugs being passed around like candy. Booze galore. And, oh yeah, horny people hooking up any place they could - including in the audience.
But Corrina Jackson loved it all the same.
Tugging down her lace bralette a tad, she regretted wearing such a thin outfit. The cold air tore through it like it was made of paper. Not even her leather jacket helped. The only thing it was useful for was completing her outfit. Also didn't help she chose shorts and white, knee-high socks over an actual pair of jeans. After spending most of her life in the north, she should know how cold fall nights had the potential to become. At least her platform boots helped her see over some of the crowd with ease.
At least the music's good.
Waves of blazing violet cascaded down her back, flowing in the wind as she bobbed her head along to the music. The band's an old favorite of hers, but going to the concert was her childhood friend, Chicago's idea. Before they moved to town, her friend and sister bought the tickets as a fun girl's night out, something the two haven't done in over a year since the birth of Chicago's young daughter.
Corrina glanced over her shoulder. No Chicago. Her friend ditched her. Alone in an ocean of people. Left to fend for herself.
"Why don't I ever learn?" She sighed to herself, brushing a lone strand of hair out of her face. "She does this every time we go anywhere together."
And then the sound system screeched. An ear piercing screech. The woods fell silent.
Corrina shrugged to herself. She knew what that meant. Either a brief intermission or the concert's over. Not her first rodeo. Won't be her last either.
She shimmied and squeezed her way through the schools. Broke up pairs. Fending against some grabby hands. Until she found her way to the open bar towards the back of the outdoor hall. A few people scattered around the long island the same time she did, taking away the seats she eyed. But she's not going to force them to move. If it were any other time, then yes. But after a concert stalled or canceled due to technical difficulties, fuck no.
That's just asking for trouble, more specifically a fight. And Corrina could not go back to jail. Not again.
"Coke and rum, please," she shouted at the bartender over the roars of various people around her plus the disgruntled crowd behind her.
The bartender signalled to her that he heard her order, and she sighed in relief. A weight lifted off her shoulders. Being heard, especially over crowds of believable chatter, hasn't always been a speciality of hers.
He handed her a small glass with a black stirrer poking out the top, leaving her with a smile and no bill. The perks of her outfit and striking make-up, she assumed. People aren't usually just nice to another person without a reason, usually because said person is attractive to them. Something Corrina picked up along the way. The hard way.
"Beer." A voice shouted from her left. He sounded about her age, sarcasm evident in his single word like it came second nature to him, and smelled of marijuana and cigarettes, possibly even a slight hit of spearmint. It hit her all at once as his shoulder knocked into hers, like a firm brickwall.
Corrina glanced up from her drink to see a guy (hopefully) about her age with light, sandy, coffee colored curls adorning his rather elongated sideburns, plus a pair of aviator sunglasses obstructing his piercing blue eyes. Crystallized, almost. They glisened like two stars plucked from the clear sky. Freezing her motor skills but not her wandering, intrigued mind. A sly grin danced over his lips, like he knew he's getting away with something he shouldn't. Or because he's trouble, seeking it out like a predator its prey. Like he craved it. Either way, she found herself intrigued.
Corrina smiled his way, still twirling the stirrer in between her thumb and index finger. Her jade eyes stuck on him like glue, super glue at that. Dirty thoughts invaded her mind, crushing anything in the way to it's path to victory. She smirked to herself. She held a clear picture of what she believed would end up happening tonight, if she's lucky enough, refusing to let go of her vision.
And with him, she would sell her soul to be lucky enough for her vision to be brought to life.
After he recieved his beer from the bartender, Corrina spoke up. "Nice job swindling the beer from the bartender."
The sexy stranger jumped at her words, their shoulders bumping. His gaze leaped to her, sizing her up. And his eyes lingered a little too long on her everything, especially her boobs. He bit his bottom lip. As she did hers, subconsciously.
"How do you know I'm not eighteen or twenty-one?" Fire burned brightly within his crystal eyes. He licked his bottom lip, then took a slight sip of his beer.
"I'd like to think someone so sexy is more my age."
The man's right hand gripped her hip, pushing her towards him until there wasn't even a minuscule amount of space left between them. In her platforms, she stood maybe an inch or so shorter than him, but not much. Their lips lingered with maybe an inch of space between them. She could feel his hot breath against her lips. His burning gaze on her. The air growing more tense as an inferno grew. Add in a bunch of strangers crowding them, the cold air flipped into a dry, summer heat.
And Corrina only added fuel to the fire.
She turned the inferno up to a thousand.
Downing the rest of her drink, the violet haired girl slammed her drink back down on the counter, using her free hand to play with the boy's curls. All while maintaining eye contact. Her jade eyes never leaving his crystal ones. A cheeky, sly grin spread from ear to ear as her other hand ran up and down his chest, each time running a little farther down, but not too far.
And that took him by surpised.
He shivered under her touch. His eyes wide. But he didn't move.
Until he did.
His right hand removed itself from her waist, grabbing her hand before it inevitably traveled back down, and held it in place. Tight.
"Oh, I don't think you want to play that game, angel." He shot daggers at her as she dipped her head in. He thought she was about to go in for a kiss, but her lips lingered over his ear.
"I'm no angel." A gasp left his kissable lips, her cold breath tickling the tiny hairs against his metal adorned earlobe. Corrina's lips danced along with the ever growing teasing grin. The temperature rose. Her heart raced. Cheeks rosey, and not from a tinted blush. Then, her slender fingers tangled themselves in his sandy curls, leading his head in towards hers, maneuvering him meticulously so their lips were inches away from connecting.
The sparks flied around, encompassing the two in their own personal cloud. A cloud deeper and more encompassing than cloud nine. Their lips drifted closer and closer together, two magnets meant to connect and spend an eternity together. Until forced apart by outside forces, that is. For two people never remain together that long with even the slightest interference from the outside word.
Corrina's voice dropped a few octaves, barley speaking above a whisper in a slow, almost Marilyn like tone. The edges of her lips danced higher up, wishing to dance to the stars. She longed for the stars obscured by his lone aviators slidding down the bridge of his nose. And the stars she shall receive. "But I so want to play that game. And I want to win."
And then they kissed.