-swallowed- Demi Sutra And September — Reign -27....

We won’t let this place swallow us whole.

The fluorescent hum of the dressing room buzzed like trapped flies. September Reign, stage name a whisper of grandeur she no longer felt, stared at her reflection. Twenty-seven. The number felt less like an age and more like a countdown. She pressed a false nail against the tacky glue of a pastie, centering it over a faded bruise. -Swallowed- Demi Sutra and September Reign -27....

“Then he docks me.”

“After this—coffee. Real names.”

They didn’t touch. They never did, not in the wings. But when the bass dropped and the purple smoke curled out, they stepped onto the stage together. The crowd—a blur of wedding rings and loose ties—roared. Lenny stood near the bar, nodding slow. We won’t let this place swallow us whole

The door swung open. Demi Sutra entered like a small, sharp storm. Her real name was Dana, but nobody backstage had used it in years. She was smaller than September, all angles and ink, with the weary eyes of someone who had learned to read a crowd’s hunger before they did. Twenty-seven

Demi snorted, pulling a fishnet over one sharp hip. “Lenny’ll dock you.”