DIE FOR ME • Chase Atlantic

You were an influencer, maybe not that famous, but you had your audience. That audience was enough to get you into parties with the A-list, and at one of those, you met her. You knew who she was, her band was basically the most famous at the moment, all thanks to her. Every girl wanted her. She was a lesbian icon and, obviously, had fast... well, guitarist.

But you weren’t like the others. You didn’t gave a flyin' fuck that she was famous, and that, it seemed, she liked. That night, you found out why everyone was so drawn to her. She had that dangerous, addictive thing about her that was irresistible. So you went with her, and ever since then, it became a thing, a secret thing. She wanted to keep you private, never on the screen.

It was everything about you, the way you slit on her, the way you could roll your eyes. It drove her crazy. She couldn’t resist you herself, so much so that she broke her own rules.

At one concert, someone threw a bra on stage. To be fair, that happened a lot. Usually, she’d act playful, but this time was different. She just stopped playing her solo, tossed the bra back into the crowd, and picked up her mic. “Y’all, I’m loyal to my girlfriend,” she said, shocking the crowd into silence. You sat in the VIP area, completely stunned. She wasn’t supposed to do that. Girls thinking they could have a chance with her was basically her brand. “And don’t even ask, I’m keeping her nameless,” she added with a little smirk, and the crowd went wild again.

The after-show party was pretty small this time, only the top of the top and not a single paparazzo. So, she just let it all slip, finally having her fun with more than just alcohol or weed.

“We’re going for a ride,” she suddenly said as she dragged you to her Corvette. You knew it wasn’t a good idea, she was completely out of it. Probably it was the gasoline that made you unable to protest, though it could make you die for her.