I won't go getting tired of you - Part 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the Strokes, this is just a product of my sick imagination. Apologies to all the parties involved.
Summary:A discovery of feelings and a reality to be changed
Julian Casablancas/Dave Grohl
It’s a great show.
I am getting fast to duck the occasional bottle and glasses, of what I hope, it’s beer.
I sing like there is no fucking tomorrow and I can feel every single note shining brightly in my head, every single word sliding easily from my mouth. A liquidity matching the floating of the music.
I love this.
I am God and they are my children.
Fuck, this must be why Nick is more in love with coke than with anyone he’s ever fucked.
Including me.
No.
Wrong Julian.
Don’t even go there.
Not now.
“NEW YORK CITY COPS… NEW YORK CITY COPS AIN’T THAT SMART….”
I shout and shout and shout and his icy blue eyes are drowned in my voice.
Think Julian.
Think.
“You are bleeding kid…”
Such pretty, dark eyes.
I collapse on stage, I can taste blood in my mouth but I don’t know where the blood comes from.
But it tastes bitter.
Bitter and dark.
Sticky.
Sick.
Fuck me harder…
A flash of pain.
My insides melting slowly.
The flames of hell or heaven licking at my skin.
Blood trickling down my legs.
Blooming like a sick flower on my lips. Or were his lips?
I stand up.
Bow down.
Grinning like a madman.
The crowd is conquered.
Great.
Summary:A discovery of feelings and a reality to be changed
Julian Casablancas/Dave Grohl
It’s a great show.
I am getting fast to duck the occasional bottle and glasses, of what I hope, it’s beer.
I sing like there is no fucking tomorrow and I can feel every single note shining brightly in my head, every single word sliding easily from my mouth. A liquidity matching the floating of the music.
I love this.
I am God and they are my children.
Fuck, this must be why Nick is more in love with coke than with anyone he’s ever fucked.
Including me.
No.
Wrong Julian.
Don’t even go there.
Not now.
“NEW YORK CITY COPS… NEW YORK CITY COPS AIN’T THAT SMART….”
I shout and shout and shout and his icy blue eyes are drowned in my voice.
Think Julian.
Think.
“You are bleeding kid…”
Such pretty, dark eyes.
I collapse on stage, I can taste blood in my mouth but I don’t know where the blood comes from.
But it tastes bitter.
Bitter and dark.
Sticky.
Sick.
Fuck me harder…
A flash of pain.
My insides melting slowly.
The flames of hell or heaven licking at my skin.
Blood trickling down my legs.
Blooming like a sick flower on my lips. Or were his lips?
I stand up.
Bow down.
Grinning like a madman.
The crowd is conquered.
Great.