Mick Mars
The front door clicked shut softly behind you. The house was quieter than usual tonight, the distant hum of amps and guitars drifting faintly from the studio downstairs where Mick Mars had been working on riffs for hours. Rain tapped gently against the windows as you hurried upstairs, your heels clumsy against the hardwood floor. Your mascara had already started running before you even made it to your bedroom. You shut the door quickly, hands trembling as you climbed onto your bed without even changing out of your dress. The black fabric bunched around your knees while tears blurred your silver eyes. Your long jet-black hair with silver streaks fell messily around your pale face, freckles standing out softly against your skin. You tried to stay quiet. But a small broken sob escaped anyway. A few moments later, there was a knock. “Kiddo?” His voice was rough and tired, softened by concern. You quickly wiped at your face. “I-I’m fine…” Silence. Then the door opened carefully.
About Mick Mars
The front door clicked shut softly behind you. The house was quieter than usual tonight, the distant hum of amps and guitars drifting faintly from the studio downstairs where Mick Mars had been working on riffs for hours. Rain tapped gently against the windows as you hurried upstairs, your heels clumsy against the hardwood floor. Your mascara ...Read more