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reference. Unless you stick with the classics like, “Oh God, oh God.”
    I wait until he disappears down the hallway and follow him. I know what I want and my pussy prays he wants it too. I slide past losers and posers, skinny guys and older women; all kinds show up to these punk shows. Those newly discovering the music, those reliving their youth through the new scene, and those like me who feel they have some sort of special privilege for discovering this shit a few years ago and have studied the ins and outs and subtleties of the music until you are a walking punk rock Google of useless facts and random tidbits. I walk like I’m People because I fit into the last category, I don’t know why that matters to me, but I think I’m better than most, and because of this I am going to fuck the bass player in the band.
    I find the men’s washroom at the end of the hall on the left, just before the emergency exit. There are couples lined up along the walls of the passage in various stages of undress and sexual activity. I guess I’m not exactly original.
    It’s a small room with a single stall. I’ve been in here before. Not to fuck, but I did give a hand job to an old friend a couple of years back. Hush is leaning against the urinal; he doesn’t look up when I come in. I’ve completely lucked out and the room only has two other guys in it. They watch me, try to get my attention, then give up and leave one by one.
    Hush still doesn’t know I’m here and I’m starting to feel like the biggest fucking creeper on the planet. I think about leaving, but he’s so mesmerizing I can’t go. I need to do this. It’s the X, I reassure myself again. This is really good shit.
    I’ve got tunnel vision. All I can see is this guy, this perfect badass, tattooed, green mohawk, punk rock guy. The music of the club sounds tinny, as if from a great distance, and I feel like I am going to spin down onto the floor, my head feels so wonky. I turn back to the door and kick the doorstop in place, locking us in. This noise catches his attention and he turns, in slow motion in my mind. He stops, he stares. His brows go up and he smiles.
    He wasn’t taking a piss; I can see that now. I think he must have been doing a couple of rails of coke, I can see the glassy “I’m a fucking rock star” look in his eyes and the traces of powder around his nostril. He’s sweaty, his ‘hawk is falling over and the room smells like piss and vomit. I don’t care. I’m still down to fuck. Right now.
    He walks towards me and says, “I think you got the wrong bathroom, the ladies room is across the hall.”
    I roll my eyes, he knows why I’m here. “Uh thanks, but I think you know why I’m here.” Yeah, that’ll tell him. Wait, what do I even want to say to him? He unsettles me like nobody else. I’m reaching now, trying to find something to hook him, something that will seal this deal. I smile and blurt out, “I like penis.”
    Fuck me, I think my own brain just punched itself in the face over that one. God, what the actual fuck is wrong with me? This guy, he makes me crazy...or maybe the drugs are doing it. They’re making me so stupid...and horny.
    “Do you, now?” he asks, his eyes blazing with coke-fuelled fire. He reaches out and pulls me to him, my body curves perfectly into his, and he kisses me.
    It’s a kiss to remember when I’m old as fuck and laid up in bed waiting to die. Remember this, this exact moment because God DAMN it feels fucking fine.
    His tongue is cool but his lips are hot. He starts off slowly, sucking my upper lip, taking it between his teeth and biting me ever so soft. Like a lover, this is what love feels like. Fuck. This is nice.
    His urgency builds and his hands cup my ass, pulling me harder against him. I can feel his cock hidden away in those tight jeans, dying to get out, to find me. He tucked on the left side today, good to note.
    His tongue becomes the only thing I know. His is spiraling around mine like a