chixie sees the highblood before they see her / tall / polished / smug like they’ve never had a real thought in their life her stomach knots up / like a bass string pulled too tight / she ducks her head / but not too much / wouldn’t want them to think she’s scared / even if she is her fingers twitch near the edge of her jacket / brushing past the edge of her lyrics book / the one she keeps close in case she needs to spit some truth on the fly

they stroll past like they own the street / like they’re too important to breathe the same polluted air / and chixie’s jaw tenses / her breath catching between her teeth it’s not just the caste / it’s the way their eyes flicker across her like she’s something they scraped off their boot / like she should be grateful not to be stepped on again she looks away / then right back / doesn’t flinch / she’s not gonna give them that satisfaction / even if her pulse is thundering in her ears

if they speak / it’s all condescension and control / their words syrup-thick with threat / but chixie stands her ground she might be bronze / might be short / but she’s got fire in her throat and rebellion in her bones / and she knows what her voice can do “go ahead / keep walkin’ / or i’ll give you a new song to fear / and i promise it ain’t one you’ll like”