[FILLED] snsd/t-ara, jessica/soyeon [1/2]
anonymous
August 7 2011, 15:56:30 UTC
idek, i'm not sure if i interpreted it right, but yeah. idk much about soyeon aside from meta-reading, so i hope this is okay. i just felt really inspired. lol sorry for my fail. hope you enjoy it anyways. ♥
Jessica was on her bed with a half-finished bottle of cheap beer in her hand, face in her pillow, when she got an idea.
Her hand reached for her cellphone, its scratched screen and Hello Kitty jewels and all, and pressed number one on her speed dial. That number was also her only number on speed dial.
“Hey! Soyeon,” she croaked without opening her eyes as she shifted to her side, putting the beer bottle on her bed. It went on its side and spilled onto Jessica’s bare stomach. She didn’t notice.
“Yeah,” a calm voice answered. Jessica smiled. “What’s up?”
Jessica sat up straight, back against her headboard. “I realized how much I hated it when women dressed like skanks in clubs.”
“That’s a nice realization,” Soyeon said, sounding bored.
“We should do it for our gig tonight,” Jessica singsang. She could practically hear Soyeon smirk through the soft static.
“So we’ll be cosplaying as sluts tonight, huh?” she chuckled. “Sure.”
“Yup, imagine how many girls would be pissed,” Jessica reasoned. “They’d think we have no dignity. It’s so fun to rile people up.”
“Sounds good,” Soyeon replied simply. “Meet you at ten.”
“You’re a doll,” Jessica grinned and pressed the end call button. She then set the alarm on her phone to nine thirty and shoved her face back down onto her pillow. A minute later, soft muffled snores echoed in her room.
A cheesy europop alarm woke her up and she stirred, reaching out her arm to stop the music as soon as possible. She soundlessly sat up, her eyes still closed and her eyebrows furrowed, stretching her hands up and her neck around.
“…Fuck,” she opened her eyes and looked down at her torso, sticky with stale alcohol, and grimaced and side-eyed the bottle which was lying down beside her. “The fuck did that get there,” she muttered and shrugged, putting the bottle on her floor and walking to her bathroom.
She emerged from her apartment five minutes later, still smelling of beer but now mixed with a hint of drugstore baby cologne. Her hair was messy around her shoulders, her short neon green tube top clashing with its color. She didn’t bring a bag, just putting her phone in her shorts pocket. Some bills stayed in her bra, though.
She tugged the big headphones around her neck and walked slowly towards the greasy bar three blocks away from her apartment building, making sure not to trip over her stiletto booties.
“I meant to dress like this,” she scoffed as Soyeon sneered at her, calling her a hoe. “You look like one too!”
Soyeon eyed her own tight neon pink dress and yellow heels in the mirror of the bar bathroom and shrugged as she patted her short hair down. “I look good.”
Jessica rolled her eyes and pulled at the grinning Soyeon out the girl’s room. “You ready for this?” she screamed over the pounding music as they wormed their way around grinding bodies onto the stage of the club.
Soyeon didn’t reply, just smiled knowingly.
“SEOUL, YOU’RE FUCKING NUTS!” Jessica laughed into the microphone as Soyeon tapped her finger on the mixers in front of them, pulsing heavy bass beats around the room. They were both glistening with sweat as they swayed to their own music, their hands all over the synthesizers and mixer boards, their heads bobbing, their eyes closed, and their hips moving in entirely different directions.
This was their music - pure beats and slurred voices and jacked up lyrics about dinosaurs fucking aliens. They spoke of things they enjoyed; pissing people off, cheap thrills, guilty pleasures.
And that’s why Soyeon liked doing shit like this; because she felt like she was flying even though her breaths were short and her feet were tapping rhythmically against the ground. She had to play and think (but not too hard) and sing and dance and perform she loved those things and she felt like a genuine person when she’d press a finger on an instrument and it would create beautiful sounds that made you want to grind against a stranger’s leg or not give a fuck what people thought, in that moment.
Jessica was on her bed with a half-finished bottle of cheap beer in her hand, face in her pillow, when she got an idea.
Her hand reached for her cellphone, its scratched screen and Hello Kitty jewels and all, and pressed number one on her speed dial. That number was also her only number on speed dial.
“Hey! Soyeon,” she croaked without opening her eyes as she shifted to her side, putting the beer bottle on her bed. It went on its side and spilled onto Jessica’s bare stomach. She didn’t notice.
“Yeah,” a calm voice answered. Jessica smiled. “What’s up?”
Jessica sat up straight, back against her headboard. “I realized how much I hated it when women dressed like skanks in clubs.”
“That’s a nice realization,” Soyeon said, sounding bored.
“We should do it for our gig tonight,” Jessica singsang. She could practically hear Soyeon smirk through the soft static.
“So we’ll be cosplaying as sluts tonight, huh?” she chuckled. “Sure.”
“Yup, imagine how many girls would be pissed,” Jessica reasoned. “They’d think we have no dignity. It’s so fun to rile people up.”
“Sounds good,” Soyeon replied simply. “Meet you at ten.”
“You’re a doll,” Jessica grinned and pressed the end call button. She then set the alarm on her phone to nine thirty and shoved her face back down onto her pillow. A minute later, soft muffled snores echoed in her room.
A cheesy europop alarm woke her up and she stirred, reaching out her arm to stop the music as soon as possible. She soundlessly sat up, her eyes still closed and her eyebrows furrowed, stretching her hands up and her neck around.
“…Fuck,” she opened her eyes and looked down at her torso, sticky with stale alcohol, and grimaced and side-eyed the bottle which was lying down beside her. “The fuck did that get there,” she muttered and shrugged, putting the bottle on her floor and walking to her bathroom.
She emerged from her apartment five minutes later, still smelling of beer but now mixed with a hint of drugstore baby cologne. Her hair was messy around her shoulders, her short neon green tube top clashing with its color. She didn’t bring a bag, just putting her phone in her shorts pocket. Some bills stayed in her bra, though.
She tugged the big headphones around her neck and walked slowly towards the greasy bar three blocks away from her apartment building, making sure not to trip over her stiletto booties.
“I meant to dress like this,” she scoffed as Soyeon sneered at her, calling her a hoe. “You look like one too!”
Soyeon eyed her own tight neon pink dress and yellow heels in the mirror of the bar bathroom and shrugged as she patted her short hair down. “I look good.”
Jessica rolled her eyes and pulled at the grinning Soyeon out the girl’s room. “You ready for this?” she screamed over the pounding music as they wormed their way around grinding bodies onto the stage of the club.
Soyeon didn’t reply, just smiled knowingly.
“SEOUL, YOU’RE FUCKING NUTS!” Jessica laughed into the microphone as Soyeon tapped her finger on the mixers in front of them, pulsing heavy bass beats around the room. They were both glistening with sweat as they swayed to their own music, their hands all over the synthesizers and mixer boards, their heads bobbing, their eyes closed, and their hips moving in entirely different directions.
This was their music - pure beats and slurred voices and jacked up lyrics about dinosaurs fucking aliens. They spoke of things they enjoyed; pissing people off, cheap thrills, guilty pleasures.
And that’s why Soyeon liked doing shit like this; because she felt like she was flying even though her breaths were short and her feet were tapping rhythmically against the ground. She had to play and think (but not too hard) and sing and dance and perform she loved those things and she felt like a genuine person when she’d press a finger on an instrument and it would create beautiful sounds that made you want to grind against a stranger’s leg or not give a fuck what people thought, in that moment.
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