Jesus... I'm so fucking drunk. The ground feels like it's shifting beneath my feet as I stagger away from the dance floor on legs that threaten to give way at any moment. They're bare, pale white between the hem of my short skirt and the straps of my black heels, and my knees are tequila jelly as I stumble through the haze of bodies between myself and the urine-soaked bathroom. A hand finds my ass and squeezes it, and on instinct I swat at it, but the tequila tells my brain it's not so bad. I know better, but I'm not myself right now. I always make the wrong decision when I'm drunk.
"Pick me, pick me, yeah... let alone, I'll signal..."
God, I love this song. I'm not sure I even remember the lyrics, but it's not like I care. Distorted guitars swim in my ears, and the dark, dingy, low-ceilinged dive bar disappears behind closed eyelids, if only for a moment.
"At least, at least, yeah... everyone is hollow..."
"Hey, slut," something something. Whatever. I'm far too drunk to give a shit what anyone says to me right now. Is there any other bathroom around? I don't really know this bar, and there are so many tunnel-shaped hallways between its rooms. I might as well be in Minos' lair. It's not like it'd be much different than here: this place is full of horny bulls.
"Pick me, pick me, yeah... everyone is waiting..."
"Hey, I'm talking to you. Baby? Come here."
I brush off a pair of hands this time, both of them clutching possessively at my hips. The tunnelled hallway blurs before me, going bright and fuzzy, and I turn into it. Where was I going? Jesus, will this guy leave me alone?
"Pick me, pick me, yeah... you can even blow them..."
"You look fucking hot, you know that?"
The whole bar moves underneath my feet, and I feel a firm body press against mine from behind. There's a door in the wall, a hand that's not mine pushing it open, and I'm led inside. It's small, dark, and lined with coats and I have no idea what else, Nirvana still pounding in my ears.
"Hey!"
"Dive! Dive! Dive! Dive in me..."
"Mmm, you want it, don't you slut?"
I mumble in protest, and two strong hands stop me from falling. My legs still feel like jelly, but then the hands are on my hips, pulling at my skirt, and he's pressing into me from behind. I mumble something in protest, but some twisted part of my brain is telling me that this is what I've always wanted. There's a heavy slam, and the throbbing beat is dulled behind three inches of wood, though I can still hear it penetrating this dark, crowded space, as I'm pushed against the wall.
