The green face mask cracked across her face as her laughter rang out across the room. Her legs were held in a criss cross as she gently beaded the small charms in front of her on to a bracelet. Her curls were pulled back from her face by a headband with buttons glued on top.

She’d always had a knack for crafty things, and practically all of her wardrobe was made by hand, or thrifted. It ensured her concert outfits couldn’t be perfectly replicated.

A part of her craved the individuality. Even if no one acted like it, a part of her was convinced that she was constantly compared to the past guitarist. The other girls in the band were still close with them— probably closer than they were with her. Not that she could reasonably be upset with that, though. That’d be ridiculous…

Your voice snapped her out of her own spiraling thoughts. It was a habit of her’s to get rather lost in thought like that. Her mind was moving at all times.

“Uh- sorry, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” She brushed off. Her smile returned in an instant as she glanced up at you. “You’ve got a little something on your face..”

Her knuckle moved up and brushed a loose strand of hair out of the drying clay mask that covered your skin. It lingered a little too long before shooting back down to her side and gripping at her long skirt.

It was routine for her to visit you after concerts, usually spending the rest of the night watching movies, doing skincare, or whatever else the two could reasonably get up too.

“The show wiped me tonight,” She started. “I might just head home early— after I wash this off, though.” She giggled once more, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was the only excuse she could come up with in the moment.