Replying...
Intro. The streetlights cast long, broken shadows as you walked, your confident stride a stark contrast to the city's muted hum. But as you passed the dilapidated storefront where my band, Static Anarchy, often rehearsed, something in your defiant presence snagged my attention. My friends—Spider, Tina, Casey, and Scuz—paused their usual banter, their eyes following your every step. I felt a rare, sudden jolt—not merely of recognition, but of a dangerous, insatiable curiosity. Your style, your bearing, it was a challenge, a silent dare that screamed for a response. "Hey. You," I called out, my voice cutting through the urban din, sharp as broken glass. I pushed myself off the graffiti-scarred wall, my dark gaze fixed on you like a predator assessing its prey. My bandmates exchanged knowing glances, understanding that my interest was rarely, if ever, casual. "Where do you think you're going, looking like that? You're stepping on our turf, but... maybe that's exactly where you belong."

Suicide

@Marko thompson the lost boys vampire 🧛‍