Burning Descent: Falling for the Bad Boy

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Reluctantly, Austyn handed Cassie the key to his car.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Cass” he spoke down to her, as if he were her superior. Cassie rolled her eyes before snatching the key from his firm hold.

“When do I ever?” she replied, heading out the front door of the suburban house and toward the old jeep in the driveway. The jeep wasn’t much older than Cassie herself; Austyn bought it off of their old neighbor last year when they moved somewhere in Costa Rica. The silver paint was chipping and rusting near the edge and one of the backseat windows had a long crack in it. Cassie didn’t understand what could possess her brother to buy the machine but it was a source of transportation so she couldn’t complain too much.

Mandy George, her best friend, leaned against the passenger door, in all her black leather and band tee-shirt glory, looking annoyed and aggravated as she watched Cassie move toward her.

“You get it?” she asked, stretching upward causing her too small Twisted Sister shirt to rise and show off the pale skin of her stomach. Cassie nodded at her, unlocking the driver side door and starting the car, before leaning over to unlock the door to let Mandy in.

“So where are we going?” asked Cassie, backing out of the driveway, slowly.

Mandy was too busy digging through her oversized black bag, looking for something she most likely wouldn’t be able to find, to answer. Her black hair was pulled back from her face with what looked like a golden chopstick, and her nails flashed with glitter nail polish as she through her bag down in frustration.

“Some pub where my cousin is playing. Apparently they’re amazing, and I just have to see the performance. I swear if this is some sort of blues shit again, I’m going to castrate him.”

Mandy’s cousin, Craig, was the lead bassist in his band Left Hand Blind, and Cassie still had no idea what music they played. Calling it “creative independence” the band changed genres for every gig they played, the last, in fact, being blues.

Mandy continued, “He said that the band has taken a heavy metal turn, so it shouldn’t be so bad. Even if it sucks, it’s free entry and hopefully free boozes,” glancing quickly at Cassie she finished with, “for me at least.”

Cassie nodded her head at that. At 17 years old, Cassie had never had more than one sip of wine in her life. That and the fact that she was virginal in every way possible, Cassie was the exact opposite of Mandy, who completely signified the stereotypical “drugs and sex” lifestyle.

Mandy stared at her disapprovingly, taking in every detail of her appearance and sighed. “Stop at my house before, you can’t look like that where we’re going unless you want the shit beaten out of you.”

Cassie looked at her simple blue button down shirt, white cotton skirt, and white converse before looking at Mandy’s leather pants. What was she about to get herself into?

Mandy lived on the outside of the city in a modern house surrounded by a white picking fence. With a chef for a mom, and a lawyer for a dad, she was the black sheep of her family. Cassie had been over so many times, she knew the house like the back of her hand. Mrs. George walked up to greet Cassie and Mandy when they entered bringing them both into a hug.

“Cassie dear, how are you? You’re looking wonderful darling. Are you going to see the little performance with my little Mandy?”

Stifling a laugh at Mandy’s face, Cassie nodded at the woman who was like a second mother to her, before following Mandy up the staircase to her room. Throwing herself on Mandy’s bed she reached for the bear resting there, and held it to her chest. Mandy was too busy searching through her closet to glare at her friend for messing up her bed. That and she was busy complaining.

“I can’t believe she still treats me like in seven! I hate it when she coddles me like that. ‘Are you going to see the little performance?’ ‘Little Mandy’,” a black dress was thrown at Cassie’s head, followed by a pair of tights. “She literally doesn’t have any idea about anything outside of the kitchen. I swear, she still thinks it’s the 70’s or something. Does it look like I’m going to a little performance?”

Cassie was used to this kind of behavior from her best friend. She’d spend her life trying to find something to rebel against and complain about, her mother being the latest topic. Looking at the dress in her hands, Cassie was happy to see that it was something that she wouldn’t be too embarrassed to wear. Paired with the tights, she wouldn’t look like Mandy’s wild and sexy, but more like she would actually go to places like this without worrying about being looked at like an outsider. Maybe. Cassie ducked as a pair of Mary-Janes were thrown near her head. They landed on the bed with a soft thud.

Cassie left Mandy to her ranting and went to the bathroom to change. The tights were two long for her short stature, so she had to pull them up and roll them over a bit. The dress fell an inch or two before her knees, and was flowy everywhere except the bust, where it clung a bit too much for her liking and showed more than she was comfortable with. Her cheeks flushed when she saw the amount of exposed skin on her chest. Two thin straps held the dress up, covered in tiny diamonds. The heels added to her short height, making her legs look longer than usual. In all, Cassie felt awkward.

Her hair fell limply in front of her shoulders, and she tried to arrange it to cover her as much as it could, to give her a small sense of security. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a girl trying, and failing, to look like a badass. Without warning, Mandy entered the bathroom with a large purple bag in her hands. Cassie, used to her friend barging in on her, eyed the bag warily.

“Make-up,” her friend answered her unasked question, before setting it on the porcelain counter top and opening it, pulling out a tube of liquid eyeliner. She stared at her friends face before opening the top and leaning towards Cassie. Knowing it would be useless to fight; Cassie let the rocker apply a bunch of sticky black substance to her eyes. When she was told to open her eyes, she did and was attacked with a mascara brush. Her eyes twitched, causing Mandy to glare at her before tossing the tube back in the bag, before zipping it up and tossing it to the side of the bathroom.

Looking in the mirror once again, Cassie saw that her eyes were thickly coated with mascara and eyeliner. Not in a Marilyn Manson way, but way more than she was comfortable with. She scrunched her nose at her reflection before turning her gaze to her friend behind her, who was rolling her eyes.

“You look fine. Get over yourself. Let’s go, before we’re late.”

The pub was packed when the two girls arrived. Couples were longing around the outside, smoking and practically having sex against the brick walls. The dim streetlights buzzed and flickered as people littered around it, exchanging things swiftly between hands. One guy was leaning against the building alone, eyes sweeping around steadily. His eyes connected with hers briefly before continuing on. He almost blended into the shadows and his posture screamed ‘stay away’, causing her to grab onto the back of Mandy’s jacket as she approached the main entrance of the pub.

Upon exchanging a few words with the burly man at the entrance, Mandy and Cassie entered the bar, stomach dropping as she saw what was inside. What had she gotten herself into?

So i feel like this story is different than anything I've done before. I'm not completely happy with it, so i may go back and edit. Please please please please let me know what you think!! I think it's too... bland. Ugh. If you read this, you're amazing! Review review review!! :)

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