open to: anyone ! muse: frances 'frankie' knox, 27, she/they, nonbinary, pansexual, lead singer of a hardcore band. halsey fc. plot: frankie isn't exactly the biggest fan of the holidays, due to her childhood. the week of christmas, they decide to go to their favorite bar in hopes of distracting themself. connection: bartender, friend, stranger, fellow musician, etc.
holiday lights never did much for frankie; they never had, not when every december used to feel like a countdown she never asked for. their birthday was creeping up again, five days out, and they could already feel that familiar twist of the knife in their chest that made them want to disappear under a pile of blankets or drown in a bottle. so, she went to the next best place, the bar that never pushed cheer onto people who didn’t have any. the garland above the shelves sagged, one strand of tinsel barely hanging on, and the only real glow came from the amber lights reflecting off their whiskey. she settled into her usual stool, with her leather jacket falling off one shoulder, messy red curls escaping her hoodie, and boots hooked onto the lower rung as she tried to pretend the season wasn’t happening at all. they felt the presence before they ever turned their head. someone had slipped into the seat beside her, close enough that she caught the faint scent of cold air and pine, close enough that it was clear the other wasn't here by accident. their fingertip traced the rim of their glass as the redhead spoke, voice low and a little dry. “didn’t think anyone else would brave this place the week of christmas,” she muttered, still not looking up. “you hiding out too, or are you one of those people who ACTUALLY enjoys this time of year?”
