Now 

The entire floor vibrated red. It was chaos with arms waving upwards and feet stomping. The pulse of the bass made the walls come alive. Frankie closed her eyes and let her voice wash over the wave of people. The band raised on the front stage were flashes. Between a head here. Beyond a waving arm there. She felt him next to her, jumping with her, bumping bodies slicked in sweat. It smelled like people. It smelled like weed. It smelled like the cold smoke of fog machines pouring out from the rafters. 

“I hope they play—” Zeff’s voice cut out as the guitar riff kicked off the next song. She couldn’t hear him, but she could feel him. Surrounded by people, she was acutely aware of how close he was to her. Her body was electrified. 

Frankie felt the hairs raise on the back of her neck, the chills rush down her bare arms. She tightened the leather jacket tied at her waist. It was hot and cold and overwhelming. She felt everything. This was what she’s always wanted. This was what she’s always needed. The music entered her ears but traveled through her veins. It pulsed in rhythmic tempo with her neck, it beat blatantly in her chest. It swirled around her navel and settled between her thighs. She stood on it, two sturdy legs moving to the beat. It was around her, in her, all at once. It was wonderful. 

In between songs, the room buzzed. The singer talked into the microphone, but Frankie turned to Zeff. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Only if you go with me.”

“Deal.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag. She held out her hand but he palmed it with his own. He shook his head and placed something between his teeth, hidden on his tongue. She knew. He pulled her closer as the next song rose up, angry drums thrashing against her own nervous heartbeat. She let him kiss her. She let his tongue go past her lips and place the pill onto her own. She pulled back and pressed closed lips to his before letting go. He looked at her as he put another pill between his teeth. She watched his Adam's apple bob. She stared at his face, glowing with green hues from the strobe lights. She swallowed his kiss. The first of the night. 

*

Before

Frankie wondered about the girl who had this room before her. The family that lived in this house before. Before the tirades and the holes punched in walls. Before the screams that could only be drowned out by loud music through headphones. Before Frankie knew what she knew. 

Staring at the ceiling, there was a small glow-in-the-dark star, pasted above her bed. Was there a constellation once? What about a galaxy? Maybe the girl before her stared up at the stars every night wishing for the same things that Frankie did. To be anywhere but here. Maybe she was a dreamer who wanted to be an astronaut. Maybe she was a painter and wanted a different landscape. Maybe she was just another girl who always looked to the sky and made sure she could always see the stars. 

Frankie was thankful that she left behind a star for her. Maybe it was a gift. Dreamer to dreamer. She closed her eyes and wound her finger around the dial, making the music louder and louder in her ears. The iPod was warm in her hands. Metal to skin. One day she’d get out. She’d hear music all around her, not just wrapped through a thin cord that sometimes felt like a noose. She wouldn’t have to use it to escape the yelling and the fighting beyond these four walls. She’d be able to break them down, find her own stars that glowed in the dark, and find her own way to dream and love. ...