A/N:  Before I hop into the Prologue those of you that know me know that I need to take a moment to simply talk about the release that just happened.  First, before I give my thoughts I want to ask everyone.  How did you feel about Permission to Dance?  The video?  The song?  

Personally?  I loved it.  I loved the happy bop it was, and how the video reflected a celebration of our freedom to come from COVID.  I was shocked at the rapline once again amazing us with the vocals they have very obviously been working on.  Although, it didn't quite register to me at first until Hobi's part ended and Yoongi's part began.  Then I was like.  Wait.  Namjoon sang too.  

Outside of this.  Can I talk about the fact that I didn't think I would ever seen the members dressed as cowboys?  I literally thought as Jimin walked out with that fringed outfit.  "Well that's a look I never knew I would appreciate on him"  

Then first time I saw Hobi waist down during his part, I realize they show him earlier I just didn't notice it, I literally screamed in my head (due to the late hour)  "OMG, he's wearing chaps!"  I also may or may not have noticed that there was a design or words on his ass...  

Yoongi was so happy throughout every moment I focused on him.  It was wonderful to see.  I've noticed he has seemed a lot happier to me since his surgery.

I was excited to see Tae and Jimin with the kids.  I love any of them with kids really, but there is just something about their reactions specifically.

Then during the dance scene at the end Jin attacks us with the male cleavage!

Okay.  So, that's my thoughts.  Sorry that I didn't focus on everyone but honestly I'm pretty tired and planning on posting this and then going back to bed.  Also, sorry that I probably shared more than I intended.

3805 words

Posted 7/9/21

I didn't have to see my reflection to know what the expression I was wearing would look like. Luckily for me I was able to confirm it easily enough due to the fact that the bed that I woke up in was directly right across the room from a large dresser mirror. The look on my face that I had aptly predicted, Yay me!, was complete and utter shock. My eyes were the size of saucers, and my mouth seemed to be frozen, stuck in a perpetual O. The problem was the suspended silence staring back at me isn't how I am feeling right now. No, trapped inside my head I'm not silent at all. Instead I am screaming like a senseless cliché victim in a horror movie. The kind that won't shut up until you bitch slap them across the face. Huh. I visualize myself doing exactly that and sigh in content relief when the deafening mental screaming manages to stop and I am blessed with silence instead. I give myself a moment to pause in bliss before revisiting the horror that I woke up to.

I mentally tallied the thoughts that I had been going over for the past few seconds and frowned at how I had been comparing myself to a victim. Because that was just another mental complication to add to my already shit-tastic morning. I had to convince myself to rapidly come to terms with the fact that unfortunately for me I wasn't the victim in this scenario. There was no way that I could have been the victim. Instead, I was quickly coming to the fearful realization that I somehow had to be the monster that the victims were trying to escape from in this current scene. I wish this were a scene from a horrible horror movie. Then I could flip the script and move on to the next scene. No, I take that back; not the scene rather the next act where I have already dealt with all this shit.

Lying in bed beside me was my stiff former one night stand. He had played the role of the victim. Oh, and I don't mean stiff as in his morning wood that he should have been sporting, as is the case with all men (at least to my limited knowledge). Before I could process the action my eyes began to subconsciously trail down his bare chest as if searching for proof whether he was stiff like that also or not. Unfortunately it wasn't until my eyes landed on the sharp indentation at the upper part of his pelvis that I was able to catch up with what I had been doing and sharply closed my eyes. No. Wait. Ew! I immediately derailed that train of thought, even if the little conductor still wanted to trek its way to the station. So gross! Back to my original train of thought, he wasn't stiff like he had an erection. Not confirming whether this is the case or not! He was stiff because his body was rigid and ice cold. His eyes were staring up at the ceiling, but they were listless and empty.

I mentally revisited the events that occurred last night when we met.

"Tally, I told you I'm not sure I want to go out tonight." I threw myself on the bed trying to tune out the southern cadence of my roommate's voice.

When I had been given my roommate assignment for my freshman year and seen her name written down for the first time I honestly cringed. I knew there was no way I would be able to call my roommate Tallulah. Luckily Tallulah Walder happened to hate her first name and vehemently insisted on being called Tally instead. Which aside from simply sounding better was also much easier to say, and came off my tongue without the hesitancy that Tallulah did.

"There will be dancin'."

Hmm. She's definitely using the right bait in her attempt to lure me in.

Dancing was my love. My passion. It was the whole reason I was here after all. It was my major.

I could have stayed in Indiana and enrolled at Butler or IU, they did both have a great program after all. But, after discovering I was adopted, I decided that going out of state would be better for me. I needed some time away from the parental units to give myself a moment or two to figure out who I was without them constantly insisting that despite the fact I was adopted I was still their daughter. I mean I obviously knew that. But, it was still shocking to uncover that truth, and now getting space was my next step to my own self discovery. So I applied to both Ohio State and University of Memphis. My decision was honestly based on which college I was accepted to first. The Ohio State acceptance letter came in a week after the University of Memphis one came in.

"I don't have anything to wear." Yeah, my next argument to keep me from going to this party was an exceptionally cliché and weak one.

My roommate proved how weak it was with her next statement. "If you truly didn't have somethin' ta wear you could borrow somethin' of mine. But, girl, I've seen your closet. You most definitely have enough clothin' to choose from in there."

I sigh, because I know she is right. "Why do you want me to go so bad?"

"Because you have been focusin' too much on your classes and not enough on havin' fun. When you aren't in class you are either practicin' in a studio or in the library goin' over the homework for your general studies classes, or at least studyin' your notes and textbooks for them. You need to go out and participate in all there is to experience about college life. That includes goin' to a party and havin' fun." She pauses for a second. "Did I mention all the cute guys that would be there?"

Once again I sigh because the moment my roommate found out I was still a virgin she had claimed it was her duty to get my v-card confiscated before the end of freshman year. I honestly wasn't opposed to the idea, but I didn't have this dire need for it to happen like she seemed to. I honestly don't remember her exact winning methods, but somehow in the next few minutes she managed to convince me to go. Perhaps it was her constant nagging at me more than anything else.

Once we got to the party, which was in a house just a block or two away from frat row, the music immediately had my eyes trailing over to the minuscule dance floor. It wouldn't be easy to work my way through that crowd to dance, but I would make it work. Even if I had to share my personal bubble with all the other bodies on the dance floor.

I had only been dancing through a few songs before my eyes trailed over the back of a guy only two steps away from me. I wish I could admit to staring at the back of his honey blonde head but honestly it was the way he moved and filled out his form fitting jeans that had me noticing him first. He had been dancing with another girl at the time, but it was obvious with the way the girl kept flicking her eyes over me that she wasn't romantically interested in him at all. I nodded at her for a mere moment before going back to ogle his backside.

There was no denying the way the denim fabric of his jeans were perfectly tight against the rounded shape of his ass, and before I fully consulted with my brain on my actions I found the tip of my tongue wedged between my teeth. His dance partner must have said something to him about the way I was checking him out because the next moment he turned around. A smile lit with flirtatious curiosity already on his face. He immediately introduced himself as Drew.

Once I saw his face I couldn't keep myself from staring into his wide dark eyes. I wasn't even sure what color they were. They could have been a dark blue that was almost navy, or they could have been a dark brown that was almost black. The way the light reflected inside their dark depths had me completely bespelled. That paired with his flawless bright smile had my heart galloping much faster than the rhythm of the fast paced song playing in the background.

After a few songs where the three of us were dancing together in a huddle his friend, Julie, offered to get us all a drink. I insisted on a bottle of water. She may be female but I wasn't trusting anyone I didn't know to get me a drink unless I could tell it hadn't been tampered with.

Drew turned back to me and asked me to tell him about myself. I kept it vague but flirtatious. Only offering a few key points about myself, like what my major was and where I came from. Only a few minutes later Julie came back with our drinks. She whispered something to Drew and walked away.

"Everleigh, did you want to go somewhere more private? Get to know each other better?"

I could read what he meant by the gleam in his eye; the excitement forecasted by his body language. It took me only a few moments to decide. I had learned how sweet and excitable he was within a few moments of knowing him. But that didn't stop him from obviously wanting to get in my pants. Yet, because of something in his eyes and the way he smiled at me I had found myself saying, "Let me find my roommate and let her know. I'll meet you by the front door."

His apartment was only a few blocks away and it took us no time to get inside. Once we got inside he was already hungrily kissing me and peeling away my shirt. Despite my inexperience I let him, but once he tossed it away I pulled myself out of the kiss. "Drew, I, uh. I have to tell you something."

"What's that?"

"Um. I haven't done this before?" Damn, I sounded like a tool. It's not a question, it's a fact. I have never gone home with someone. I can literally count on one hand the amount of people I have kissed. "I mean..." It's one fucking word. One word starts with V is two syllables long. Say the fucking word for crying out loud!

"Are you saying you're a virgin?" He paused to watch my head slowly bob up and down automatically. He licks his lips and mentally pauses himself. He physically pulls himself back. I don't know if he is distancing himself for his sake or mine though. "We don't have to do this, Everleigh. I understand if you want to put your shirt back on and just sit on the couch and talk."

I don't know why but his suggestion makes me decide that I want him to be the one to take my virginity. I don't expect anything from him after, but I also wouldn't be opposed to more if he is up for the same. We can hash that out later.

At least that had been my plan before waking up this morning.

He had been so full of zest last night. His silly drunken dancing and lazy smiles. His eyes that seemed to always be smiling, and despite their dark shade somehow always seemed to pick up the light reflected from whatever source might have been illuminating the room. That wasn't the case now though. Now they were dark, dull, and lifeless. If I had known him for longer than ten or so hours I would probably be in tears.

Wait. Shouldn't I be in tears despite that? He's dead, and while I only knew him from last night he was most definitely a good person. Hell. I was pleased that despite knowing I was a virgin he didn't treat me like some prize to be won, nor did he treat me like I had leprosy. He only made sure that I still wanted to lose my virginity and treated me with care as he surged into me. But, yes, I feel like I should be emotionally hurt that he's gone. Instead I'm only shocked to find him in this state. Perhaps I am not only shocked but *in shock*? Maybe it will catch up with me later, and I will be only the shell of a person for weeks, locked in a vegetative state and unable to function without outside assistance.

Would I be put into one of those mental hospitals? Where the rooms were painted such a vivid white they were blinding. Where there was that special room or two with padded walls to keep the patient inside from hurting themselves.

I shake my head to clear that negativity and the crazy, vivid imaginations away. I had to pull myself together. I had other things to focus on right now. Like how I would be able to leave the apartment without anyone seeing me. Thankfully, he lived in an apartment off campus and didn't have a roommate. Knock on wood. I repeated the mental mantra by rapping my knuckles against the top of the night stand beside me. I couldn't even imagine how I would deal with this if it had happened in a dorm room!

I quickly unearthed my articles of clothing. I was tempted to leave my panties behind. (They were lodged underneath his body.) However, leaving as few remnants of myself behind seemed like the smarter act to choose. I didn't watch police procedural television shows but I knew enough to leave as few traces of myself behind as possible. Perhaps, because I had never committed a crime before I would be fine. Fingers, toes, arms, legs, and eyes crossed. I didn't actually cross all those extremities (eyes included), only a pair of fingers, but thinking about crossing them all calmed me down just enough to continue getting my shit together, both literally and metaphorically.

I quickly got dressed. Well, sans underwear, 'cause ew I was definitely not putting those back on. Perhaps I should burn them. I immediately found a frown flitting over my face as I reflected on the fact that this would be the first time I ever went commando, at least as far as I could remember. I'm sure in my early years I had probably torn off my diaper or training pants and ran around the house naked. It doesn't take me long to veer away from daydreaming over that possibility.

I find myself sighing as I look back into the mirror, other mental considerations beginning to color my mood. I thought turning over my v card would change me somehow. It was fortunately a pleasant experience, well at least in the moment. I imagined a very different morning, including, but not limited to, my very first 'walk of shame.' But, no, I thought it would change me in a different way. I thought it would fulfill me somehow. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, I felt the opposite instead. I felt hollow. Like a giant chocolate bunny. Not to mention the fact that the recipient of said v card punch got more than he bargained for purchasing a ticket for this amusement ride.

Great, now I wanted chocolate. That was happening a lot lately, too. I was hungry all the time and constantly craving chocolate (even more so than during that ugly cursed time called, pre menstruation). Must. Buy. Chocolate. Bunny!

I shift the stray strands of my bedraggled hair away from my face. I have to get focused. How would I get out of here? One of his neighbors would surely see me as I tried to leave, and recognize me! If only it were late October and not early April. It might have been a Halloween party instead of a party to celebrate national beer day. Uh..yeah. I didn't know that was a thing either. But did most college students even really need a reason to drink on a weekend? Still, what I wouldn't give for a costume right now. I could pretend to be anyone if it were Halloween.

I stumbled back from the mirror and found myself exceptionally thankful at how close it was to the foot of the bed since I would have fallen flat on my ass in a heap on the floor if it wasn't there to keep me from doing so. I couldn't help but silently gawk with a dropped jaw as I stared back at my reflection. Er, correction. That certainly is not *my* reflection. It's a reflection, but the face looking back at me was a stranger's, not my own. I stand up and double check that it is me by reaching out and physically touching the surface. I shake my head and find myself mentally cataloguing the features of this reflection versus my normal physical characteristics.

Usually I have pretty, but peculiar, blue purple eyes. I have double irises. Not that gross, rare condition where people have literally two working irises. Ew! Nasty! Please remove that gross visual from my head. Thanks. No, in this case I mean double irises where I have two distinct separate colors in my eyes. The outer part of my iris is cornflower blue, and the inside is a flowering purple. Now though, they are a pale sea glass green color.

My hair was normally straight and a shiny black, similar to the stone tourmaline. If any light hit it just right it would reflect right back off the surface. Oooh shiny! Now 'reflection me' sported hair that reminded me of Emma Roberts' hair, a soft brown with perfect beige-blonde highlights.

My height didn't change but my breasts dropped slightly in size. Normally, I fit a C cup perfectly. I liked to think of them as a C+ but now I guess they were more just a regular C. Bummer. My skin tone was more of a honey color than it's normal pale ivory tone. And I didn't even have to sunbathe! (Not that I could do that. I burn and literally become as red as a boiled lobster! SPF 100? Pssh, I could only wish that SPF 5000 existed.) I didn't take the time to check out my new backside. I had already wasted enough time as it was, and since my jeans seemed to fit fine I wasn't overly concerned about it.

Gah! This was so paranormal activity right now, but I didn't have time to dwell. It was time to scoot, like yesterday. I slipped away as quietly as possible from the crime scene. I didn't let myself dwell on what I left behind or how I would get my true reflection back. I just hauled ass without actually accelerating my physical pace.

Once I got back on campus I stopped at the library. Luckily the doors were open to the public so I didn't have to worry about showing my ID. Imagine if I had to go through that ordeal. Showing my ID only for the person viewing it to realize my picture definitely does not match the current face I am wearing.

I head upstairs to the top floor. I don't often go up here, even when I am studying, but I know for a fact that neither does anyone else. Therefore I should be able to duck into a bathroom, try my damndest to change back to my appearance, and come back out again as myself. God, I hope this works.

Once inside the bathroom I double check and make sure there is no one in the stalls before I stare at the reflection in the mirror. I close my eyes and conjure up my own appearance. I mentally will myself to look like that again. I even take a moment to say so out loud. "I want to be me again."

This time I noticed a tingle pass over my body that I hadn't noticed the first time around, but I could only hope the sensation was some kind of indication that it worked. I open my eyes and sigh in relief to find my own reflection again.

When I get to my room I breathe another sigh of relief because Tally herself must have stayed out all night long also. Her bed has definitely not been slept in. I plan on being as honest as possible with her though when she asks me questions. The one thing I know for certain is that I can't tell her I stayed the night, not with how I left him. Instead I will tell her that I decided to come back to the dorm rather than deal with trying to decide what to say to him the morning after. After all, I technically wasn't myself when I left his dorm room this morning.

When both Julie and the cops came around after discovering his body I was somehow able to lie to their faces. To tell them the same thing I had told Tally. I did go home with him but I left a few hours later. I told them the story I had made up. That as I was leaving the night before I happened to see another girl around my age walking the halls. I described her as the image I wore this morning. They had me sit down with an artist to get a sketch of the young woman I described. I was even lucky enough to have passed one of his neighbors on my way out that morning, and luckily he too was able to collaborate my story that this unknown figure was the last one to see Drew alive.

But after all this hassle I never planned on doing something remotely criminal again. It was a few weeks later as I grew ill and felt like I was starving that I discovered I would never be myself again. This time the victim didn't die, but that didn't keep me from making up some story about my parents and dropping out of school. I didn't have an exact plan. But I did have some funds I saved for extra expenditures and a credit card that my parents issued me I could borrow cash against before destroying it. I just needed to decide who I would be from here on out, because I was pretty sure that I could never be Everleigh again.