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shoot him what I assume is a sexy smile, if a “Gary Busey on crack” smile can ever be considered sexy. I’ve really got to work on this in the mirror; this flirting thing could come in handy.
    We sit at one of the tall tables for the last few minutes of the band’s break. Eva is pressed up against Diesel, wiggling on him like she is giving him a lap dance in the VIP lounge. Every snotty little cunt that walks past shoots her a look of pure hatred. They all wish they could be in her spot and Eva is eating it up with a big old spoon.
    I can barely look away from Hush. Fuck, he is smoking hot. I know it’s the X, logical me interjects, but he is fucking unbelievable. He’s got to be a total dick if he looks like that. Speaking of dick...I lean over and smile at him, working on keeping the insanity and lust out of my eyes. “So, you come here often?” I ask, deliberately cheesy. I think I even wag my eyebrows up and down a couple of times.
    “Oh, good one,” he smiles, a flash of humour that’s gone before it starts, then looks over my shoulder. Fuck, now he seems completely uninterested. Good thing I love a challenge.
    “But seriously, have you guys played here before?” I try to ignore the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch his face. Fucking X, not the best thing to be on when I meet the hottest guy in like...ever.
    “Yeah, a couple of times I guess,” he replies, then does that annoying look away thing again. I want to grip his face in between my hands and force him to look at me with those incredible eyes.
    “Cool. So how long have you been playing?” I keep my conversation as innocuous as possible, trying to make him answer. Come on little fish, take the bait. Let me lure you in, then I can snatch you up and fuck you until you forget your own name. Wait, what is his name? Oh yeah, Hush. Ugh, what a stupid name. I guess he can’t be perfect.
    “About fifteen years,” he says, his eyes meeting mine for a few seconds longer than the last time. Ha! The trap is set.
    “So what, you started when you were two?” I smile, willing him to look back at me.
    “No, since I was about ten,” I see the ghost of a smile flicker across his lips. Those kissable, suckable lips. The image of me writhing on my bed flashes into my head. I’m spread out like a flayed salmon with him sucking and tracing his tongue along my pussy...oh God I have to fuck this guy please let me fuck him tonight and I swear God I will do something to make you proud of me, ok?
    I look him up and down again. I just can’t get enough of him. I ask, “Is Hush your real name or your stage name?” I hope it’s his stage name, I don’t really like it, but it might grow on me.
    He looks at me and hesitates, as if weighing options in his head. My radar starts to blip and I know he's going to lie. It really doesn't matter; it's just that years with a drunk mom has taught me how to pick up on it.
    "Yeah, Hush is my real name,” he holds his gaze a few seconds longer. Yup. Of course he lied, but I don’t care, I’m reeling him in. He’s mine. He looks over my shoulder at the back of the club, towards the bathrooms. “Hang tight, I’ll be right back,” he smiles. He actually smiles. His smile is fucking brilliant, a flash of sunlight on an overcast day, I am even more smitten if that’s humanly possibly.
    “Sure thing,” I say, nodding my head like one of those birds that dips in and out of the water glass. I’m sure I look that fucking stupid too. What is it with this guy? I wonder again. It’s gotta be the drugs. This is really good fucking X.
    I watch him walk away, admiring his firm ass cupped in skinny jeans. He’s got a long swagger and every woman he passes turns her head to watch him walk. He makes his way through the crowd, people part like a frenzied Red Sea, and him a Moses with a green mohawk. I would follow him into the desert...fuck I need to get off these Bible metaphors, nothing kills a good fuck like a Bible