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“Regina, why exactly are we going to this concert?” Gretchen asks, sitting and fixing her hair in the mirror.
“Because there will be alcohol and I need to get wasted tonight,” Regina responds, drawing on her lip gloss and touching the heart locket hanging with an engraved “R” around her neck. She inspects her reflection for a second before deciding that she hates this lip gloss. She wiped it off with a makeup wipe and chose a darker shade.
“We can get free alcohol anywhere; no one’s even heard of Löded Diper. Is it spelled like that on purpose?” Gretchen asks, moving to sit down on Regina's grand bed. She smoothed her pleated skirt and adjusted her baby T before giving Regina a pout.
“I want to go, Gretchen, so we go.” Regina rolled her eyes and said with finality before deciding that this was the perfect lip gloss shade.
Regina stands and looks at her outfit in the mirror. She turns to the side as she pulls at her black mini skirt. She had paired it with a pink leopard print top, a gift from her boyfriend, and pink high heels.
With a huff of satisfaction and deciding that this outfit was perfect, she placed her hands on her hips. It’s not like the outfits she normally wears, but her boyfriend had asked her if she could wear the clothes that he bought tonight. Despite what people think, Regina can be caring when she wants to be—embarrassingly, it just seems to only apply to him.
Regina ignores the nervous flutter in her stomach. She had wanted to go alone, but Gretchen insisted on spending some ‘bff time’ together. It was one of the only times Gretchen had insisted on anything, so Regina supposed she could allow her to come.
She grabs the black purse and turns to Gretchen, “We're leaving,” and she walks out the door.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
Gretchen huffed in frustration and looked up from her phone. She shoves it in her purse as Regina pulls into the parking lot of the bar.
“Who was that?” Regina asks, raising an eyebrow at Gretchen.
“Just Heather.”
“Who’s Heather?” Regina turns off the car and begins putting the keys in her purse.
“Heather Duke, she goes to Westerburg,” Gretchen huffs before looking at her reflection one last time. “Apparently, she’s coming to this. I just hope we don’t see her.”
Regina doesn’t bother to respond, just gets out of the car and slams the door. She begins to walk in, ignoring the stares she and Gretchen get as they go. She keeps her chin held high and steps over the cracks in the pavement as Gretchen chases after her.
“Umm, Regina-” Gretchen begins, looking around at everyone else at this concert.
“Not now, Gretchen,” Regina rolls her eyes again. She knows what Gretchen was going to say, and frankly, she didn’t care. So what if it was a bunch of emo freaks at this bar? That doesn’t stop the alcohol from being good.
Regina doesn’t bother to look around at all the dark hair, heavy eyeshadow, and face piercings as she steps into the bar. The place was dirty and the music was loud. Regina cringed as the heavy metal played over the speakers. Gretchen fidgets with her purse strap as she stands straight, tension lacing her shoulders. “Go get us a drink,” Regina orders, before stepping away to find a spot close to the stage for them to stand.
The concert would begin in 20 minutes, and the bar had already started to fill up. If she wanted to get a good spot, she would need to start standing now. She had to shove a few emos’ out of the way, but she finally made it to the railing. She tries not to squirm as the bodies press into her, the smell of sweat thick in the air. She tries not to gag, and thankfully, Gretchen comes by with two beers and… a girl?
“Who is this?” Regina asks, raising an eyebrow at the girl. She takes a long sip of her beer and
Gretchen gives Regina an anxious look, “This is Heather.” Gretchen’s grip around her beer tightens, and Regina can see the look in her eye is begging, no more questions, please no more questions.
Because Regina was in a rare good mood—and maybe because the buzz was starting to hit—she let it go. Gretchen could keep her little secrets for now.
Heather gave Regina an up and down look, almost hungry, and Regina tried her best to ignore the way it made her squirm.
Regina decides she doesn’t like Heather. She doesn’t know what her relationship is with Gretchen, but she’s not concerned; Gretchen can handle herself.
The minutes seemed to drag on before the lights finally began to dim and the stage lights turned on. Regina watches with anticipation as the band files onto the stage. Regina watches as Rodrick takes a seat at the drum set. She can see his eyes scan the crowd, and she preens, knowing they’re looking for her.
His eyeliner was smudged just like she had taught him, and his t-shirt was ripped the way she had cut it last week. Normally, she’s not a crafty person, but Rodrick had asked, and for some reason, she can’t seem to say no to him.
When his eyes finally found hers, he winked. That cocky grin. God, he knew exactly what he was doing. And the worst part? She loved it.
The lights bathed the stage in a hazy blue, and as the first song began, Rodrick started to play—never once looking away from Regina.
The lead singer began, “Let me know what I’ve done wrong, when I’ve known this all along.”
Regina hummed softly under her breath, pretending not to know every word. She refused to give Rodrick the satisfaction of knowing she’d memorized the song—his song—about her. She refused to let him know she cared. Or that she loved the attention. Or that she might be a little obsessed.
As they get to the chorus, she can hear people singing along around her, and part of Regina feels giddy that they don’t know she’s right here. She inspired the song; she is his, and she’s right here, and they have no idea.
“I’ll keep you my dirty little secret, don’t tell anyone, or you’ll be just another regret,” Regina catches herself smiling, and she quickly straightens her expression. Apparently, Gretchen had replenished her beer and has since disappeared with Heather, weird.
The band keeps playing, and people dance around her. Regina stands with her arms crossed, pretending not to love the set, pretending not to love him.
Eventually, they play their last song, and Rodrick yells out, “Thank you, North Shore!” and the lights go out. The people around Regina scatter, running towards the back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the band.
Regina didn’t bother. She walked toward the side of the stage, where Rodrick was already waiting—sweaty, smirking, and absolutely insufferable.
“How’d you like the show?” Rodrick asks, leaning in close to her.
“It was too loud. I’ll probably be deaf by morning,” Regina said coolly, though the grin tugging at her lips gave her away.
“I’m glad you enjoyed,” Rodrick begins to tug at the hem of her shirt, pulling her closer to him.
“Ew, you’re all sweaty,” Regina cringes, pulling away from him.
“Shh, don’t think about that,” Rodrick grins, and then takes her hand and yanks her backstage with him.
She follows him down a corridor, the gray walls marking the different rooms for each band member. Eventually, Rodrick stops in front of one of the doors and pushes it open. Regina follows him inside, but can’t take in the room before her back is against the door, and his lips are on hers.
Rodrick pushes into her deeper, his hands play with the hem of her shirt, pushing themselves underneath, exploring. Regina tries not to show how this thrills her. Tries to ignore the high it gives her.
Every one of her nerves is on fire, all of her senses on overdrive. She can feel every brush of skin, hear every little noise, taste the mint gum he had been chewing.
She brings her hands to his hair, pulling at the roots. He bites at her lips and keeps pressing forward, despite her not being able to move any further back. Like he was trying to crawl inside of her, she wanted him to.
It had been a week since they had last seen each other, and all those emotions and longing went into that kiss. The longing, the happiness, and annoyance, all of it flowing from one to the other where their skin touched.
Regina pulls back first, breathless but pretending she’s not.
“Wow, that’s how you say hi now?” she scoffs, wiping at her lip gloss like it’s his fault he liked it.
Rodrick just grins, puts an arm above her head, and leans over her. “You missed me.”
“In your dreams,” she shoots back, a mischievous glint lighting her eye.
He shrugs. “Every night.”
She hates the way her stomach flips at that. Hates it even more when he smirks like he knows.
“Whatever. You’re still sweaty,” she mutters, but doesn’t move away.
“That never bothered you before,” Rodrick huffs, then shoves his nose into the crook of Regina’s neck, and then slowly bites down.
“Rodrick, I swear if you leave a mark I will kick your ass into next month.”
Rodrick doesn’t say anything, just continues to bite down. She tries not to make a sound, but fails as he continues his assault. This makes Rodrick smirk.
Eventually, Regina has to push him off, “Alright, that's enough.”
Rodrick gives a little whine and walks backwards, but his hands on Regina's waist pull her back with him. “Come on, Pretty in Pink, I haven’t seen you in a week.”
“Well, good thing we have the weekend to make up for it, but you have to take me to dinner first,” Regina smirks, then pats his chest and pulls away.
She brings her fingers under his chin and taps twice, “Come on, you’re paying.”
With that, Regina walks out, and Rodrick is left helpless to follow.