
ind. liz taylor
of ahs: hotel
prev. hcwtovogue
est. 10.11.15

𝒟𝒾𝓈𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒.EXT . ) a thursday night drive on sunset boulevard ( because only the 9 to 5-ers go out on the weekend ) . you have been stalled at the light for five long minutes , only to make it onto the next block to be stalled on another light for five more minutes . neon lights beckoning like temptation’s crooked finger calling for you to pull over , come in , indulge in whatever it is the haloed sign is selling . you don’t stop . not until you find the sign you’ve been in search of . blinking . not much different than the rest . maybe it’s the color scheme of the neon , maybe it’s the local band on the marquee , maybe it’s the wild look of the patrons being admitted in . somehow , that particular watering hole draws you in .
INT . ) warm flood lights stain the dance floor with crimson . loud rock music from the local band bleeds through the speakers , practically dripping over the dancers , causing them to look like vampires drinking it in . on your left ; a group of men sitting at a booth , some gesturing to the back of the room - all taking a peek in that direction on different occasions , making mention of their desire for either a dance or a blow job and maybe a little more. to your right ; a squad of women standing at the bar , wearing apathy like it’s in vogue - one leaning into the rest , nodding toward that same wall in the back of the room . the rest side-eyeing before simultaneously smirking in approval and a ravenous hunger to sit on that sweet face .
that’s when you realize , no one is here for the band or the specialty drinks . they all want to consume something that the club can’t provide but only harbor - THAT BOY , chilling with a pack of freaks , on the back wall with sunglasses on.IND.|TRIGGERS|RATED:MA|DRAWING ©
(via nctfree)