Dancing With The Devil || Open Para
It’s just a little red wine, I’ll be fine
Not like I wanna do this every night
I’ve been good, don’t I deserve it?
I think I earned it, feels like it’s worth it
In my mind, mind
She was fine. This was fine. Truthfully she had everything under control. Heels clicked against the ground as slender fingers twisted her long brown hair into a bun as she closed the space between where she stood and her make-up area. Six perfectly white lines lay waiting for her. Normally it was pain kills today. She had bought from somebody knew. She had crushed up the white rock and nicely lined them up. Maria started towards them, stopping in her tracks at the knock on her door.
‘Sapph, you’re up next.“ The familiar voice trailed off, and while she hadn’t answered, she had done the same thing she did every night. The music in her dressing room grew louder, echoing outside in the hallway muffling the sound of footsteps walking away.
Maria picked up the purple straw and held it to her right nostril. Her left pointer finger made its way to her other nostril and seconds later met the first line. One after one, she snorted them until there was nothing but a faint dusting on the countertop. A flat palm brushed the powder away and wiped it on the towel that lay across the back of her chair.
Maria turned on her heels and strut quickly towards the door shutting the music off as she left. She may have needed a bit of encouragement, but the drugs hadn’t affected her performance. Yet.
It’s just a little white line, I’ll be fine
But soon that little white line is a little glass pipe
Tin foil remedy almost got the best of me
I keep praying I don’t reach the end of my lifetime, mm
The pain pills. The cocaine. The alcohol. It all appeared to be a temporary fix and she often found herself going back to more.
“I’m out, but come with me.” Maria nodded to the man in the club. The music so loud that she barely understood a word he had said, but she had known enough that his gripping of her hand meant they were moving. He weaved quickly through the dance floor until they were in a private area and he was locking the door behind her. She swallowed hard, clammy hands wiping against the black dress she wore. The man pulled out a flat baggie giving it a quick flick to his finger before turning his eyes on her.
“It’s called slayer,” he turned the small package towards her so she could see the design on the front of it. “It’s a new, but the kids out there love it.”
Teeth bit gently into her inner cheek as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. A low, I don’t know, leaving her lips as she cast a quick look over her shoulder. She normally only bought from the french, but the guys were asking questions that she wasn’t ready to answer so she found herself here – taking a gamble.
“I’ll do it with you,” He feed her quickly before closing the space between them. He pulled a cloth bag out of cargo pocket and dropped it on the sink before getting the work. “It’s quick and easy. I’ll do you first – do worry.”
Maria swallowed hard before nodding as she worked quickly to prepare the drug. Small amount of water. Cotton. A needle. The is it new caused him to paused just long enough to say, yes. The peeling off the plastic had been enough for her to breathe the breath she had been holding. All the things she should have been worried about had and she was worried about whether or not the syringe was fresh from the package.
Slowly Eli pulled the drugs into the syringe before pulling off his belt and taking a step towards her.
“I just need too,” He nodded towards her crossed arms before gently reaching out and taking a hold of her. As quickly as he had mixed it all together and loaded the syringe he had tied up her forearm and found a vein. “It’s a good time, promise.”
Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. She mentally repeated the directions in her head as she forced herself forward. Her face grew flush, heat rolling up her chest, causing her eyes to grow blurry.
Maria stumbled forward an empty hand, reaching out in an attempt to stop herself from hitting the ground. Still, she no longer had control, as her body came crashing down, colliding with a round circular table before hitting the floor with a loud bang.
Out of control
Almost made it to heaven
It was closer than you know (closer than you know)
Playing with the enemy (oh)
Gambling with my soul It’s so hard to say no
When you’re dancing with the devil
Anatoly was not fond of Vixen, as always his taste was more to the ones that Zhana picked rather than the weird shit that Vixen always tried to pull off. But they had come around every now and again, drinking, watching the show before them. He never would have called it anything special, his nationalistic pride went against it.
Now he was looking for Maks, or Aviv, or anyone really. He only stepped out for a few moments, but in that time the men either decided to ditch without telling, or they were enjoying the company in one of the private rooms. With a grunt, he walked through the familiar setting, peeking into the rooms, not giving a single fuck about any of the others.
There was a bang someone had crushed to the floor. Anatoly cast a quick glance at who it was. One of the dancers, of course. Coked up, drugged up out of their minds, not even knowing their own fucking limits. He walked up to her, kicking her side with a negligible force with his foot. “Fucking piece of shit.” He laughed, rolling his eyes, and walked on. If anything, this was going to be a funny story to tell the others.
“A сука is on the floor, you might want to get that shit cleaned up.” He said out loud, not caring if people were going to rush for that or not. This wasn’t his mess, and frankly, Anatoly just didn’t give a single fuck.
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