supernovajade:
@moon-shiines || closed. location: ladies restroom of Smoky Hollow Bar, evening.
She used to go entire nights without being recognized—Hell, there were even some days when she was all but invisible to the public eye. Nowadays her privacy was becoming more of a privilege than a right, and the way she frequently found herself wishing she could move about the world like she used to, without eyes on her, made her sick.
All she wanted was to slink down to the bar and see a local band play some music. The last thing she expected was a skirt torn by a drunk so-called fan. Her presence had caused a kerfuffle between sets, the likes of which had thrown her into a panic attack.
Nova shoved her way to the ladies room and locked the door behind her.
With her eyes closed, the muffled sounds of the bar crowd almost sounded like being underwater. Though oddly calming, it did little to keep the moisture from her eyes.
Everything comes at a price. Her loyalty to the band did, and so did the stardom. She’d expected it somewhat, but coming to terms with the fact that she would soon belong more to the public than she did to herself felt like a grip around her throat.
She lightly stomped the bottom of her platform against the gross floor of the restroom, and took a deep breath, though upon doing so she realized she wasn’t alone.
“Shit,” she breathed and swiped the moisture from her cheeks. Thankfully it didn’t seem like the other was too bothered by her mild breakdown.
“You look really cute,” she mewled. “I love your outfit.”
She hates this bar and this crowd and this music -- at least for the night. These nights felt like a waste of time, like a blur, but not in a good way. Sometimes it felt nice to have nights she would forget about, that bled together like the colors fading to blue at the end of a sunset, but this one felt more like a bad dream than anything else. So shockingly sobering that it almost hurt.
The band was lackluster to say the least, but the crowd seemed to be as excited as could be, especially in between sets. Layla had heard the spat, just the same as anyone within a five mile or so radius, she assumed, but there had been too many people for her to really see what was going on. As such, she hadn’t seen anyone go into the bathroom either, so she was taken by surprise when she saw the sweet blonde with bright teary eyes standing in front of her.
“Oh honey,” she begins, setting her clutch on top the bathroom sink. “I like yours, too. Looks like your skirt might have seen better days though.” Her own jacket would be long enough to cover it if it were buttoned up, so she shrugs it off and offers it to Nova to throw over top.
“Can’t have Miss Monroe heading back out there like this, can we?” With a quick rip she tears away a couple of paper towels and extends a hand to dab a crystalline tear from her cheek. “Are you okay? What happened?”












