Lovesick Girls (Blackpink)

1| you give love a bad name

october.

the tail-end of summer leaving a trail of nostalgia already prevalent in the chilly autumn air, just like the cigarette smoke spilling from her lips.

lisa wasn't thinking about trivial cliché things like nostalgia, though. her mind was a cold black hole, her heart a husk of a shell. not even bon jovi screaming in her ear could stir the cold embers right now. she pocketed her walkman, spat out the cigarette and ground it beneath her heel.

time to get to business.

she was currently dragging a yellow hammer half her size and a jerry can in the other hand. the scraping sound grounded her, reminding her of the numb heart that she could still just feel beating hollowly. she set the jerry can down and stretched.

that good-for-nothing turd had nearly sucked her life dry down to the marrow, leaving her feeling lonely, crazy and unwanted.

no matter how much she pretended on being the cool tough girl, the truth was relentless, chasing after her with the same determination lisa possessed to run n the opposite direction.

how cliché: despite the punk-rocker aesthetic she prided herself on rocking, it really turned out she was just an e-girl in disguise, writing fcking sad love songs on the roof while that toerag was out getting high and fcking sluts without her.

maybe that's why he didn't like her anymore. she had gotten too tame, too soft, too tired of chasing the thrill.

how did that even happen? when had she gotten so jaded?

a fcking tragedy, is what she was, reduced to a trite broken-hearted girl cliché.

and if there's anything lisa hated, it was trite broken-hearted girl clichés, because they were so damn pathetic. and that wouldn't do.

lisa was many things, but she drew the line at pathetic.

hell, she only felt a spark of life when she was looking down at the abyss of the dark street beneath her from the top of the building she climbed at nights. 

which is why tonight, lisa was setting herself free, beginning with the object that started this flaming tragedy: his hunk of junk on wheels that zoomed into her life one spring day as she was minding her business.

shot through the heart and you're to blame, bon jovi bellowed, darling you give love a bad name.

metal met wooden fury, glass met unforgiving concrete floor as the electric guitar riff blasted her eardrums.

lisa swung the mallet in a savage outburst of rage, boiling up quick as mercury, hotter than lava, lips peeled back in a battle cry for life as she drowned in music and the shattering of glass.

In time, dents and scrapes scarred the car's body, scratching the paintwork. Spider-web cracks decorated the windows, or what was left of them.

glass rained down at her feet, shards splintering on the ground joining her tattered heart pieces still freshly bleeding.

tattered heart pieces still freshly bleeding....now that could be a lyric. she was one poetic wretch.

a smirk graced her lips as she fingered the lighter in her pocket; she had swiped it from his dresser to annoy him and make him yell at her, because she was pathetic and wanted him to talk to her, scream at her, show some sort of emotion in her presence.

but he hadn't even noticed. not even when she sheared her hair down to a bob and even did the highlights to match him.

pathetic. lifeless. dead.

why had she stayed clinging on for so long?

she could care less now. he didn't care about her anymore so she wouldn't either.

lisa wiped her face from sweat after pouring all the kerosene around and over and inside his car. she let the lighter drop.

with a whoooooooshhh the inferno overtook her, crackling tongues of fire licking everywhere and tickling her skin, teasing.

ah she remembered how it all started now: a pair of daredevils playing with fire, literally. setting fire to anything that tickled their fancy: abandoned buildings, cars in junkyards, piles of rubbish.

the sting of smoke and the smell of kerosene were intoxicating.

the thrill of being chased by cops and the raw, rough taste of his tongue on hers as they made love in the backseat was addicting enough to fool her and make her hang around, looking for the next high to drag her into the next day as she waited to exit the world in a supernova explosion someday.

but it was not the time for that, yet. she was still living, albeit barely. if her family saw her like this, they would be immensely sad and disappointed, but lisa wasn't going there. what they don't know won't hurt them.

lisa hoisted the hammer over her shoulder. it was time to go. 

she fished the second set of car keys that she had swiped from his drawer and smiled as she walked away from the burning wreck, hurrying lest it exploded and brought down the house over her head. she didn't want to give the turd the satisfaction of going down with his beloved car no.2 and the house as well.

she shouldered her sports bag on the other arm and left her crumbling life behind, sauntering out into the night where the turd's beloved car no.1 sat parked along the kerbside. she breathed in the scent of earth and dried leaves that littered the street.

autumn was the season of death and decay, but lisa felt like it was the perfect time to be reborn.