SGUIDE
the other side of paradise
by spiraweb
“I’m not playing games, Quin,” they hiss, tapping their cigarette against the rail, still dripping with the raindrops from earlier. “You should know that better than anyone.” He does. He knows. Maybe that’s part of the reason why he came here in the first place, even though he hates seeing them like this, hair coated in glitter and sweat, jacket off, arms bared to the cold British weather because it’s the only thing that bites enough to wipe away the post-show numbness. He still can’t bring himself to say it. Klefti gives him a final look, and if he were any stupider, Quin’d say he can see their desperation flicker for a second, like an extinguishing candle. As it is, he nods, and walks away.Or; how to cope when your ex best friend turns up in your town on tour, and asks if you want to be friends again. Oh, and you’re kind of still in love with them.