Gorgeous Hair Looks as Though it's Never Been Dyed...

The next thing I remember is sitting at coney island with the din overwhelming me. There was some force of electricity in the air and my hair was pink again. I remember running my fingers through it and the stray strands floated around my hands like they were alive and just as excited as I was. I remember crossing my legs and feeling the stinging pain on the back of my hip. I reached back and rubbed it, where I had permanently etched your name. I remember thinking, this is the place I've always wished I could be. This is the girl I always knew that I was. Everything was so real.

The room itself was loud, as though even if it had been empty the walls would have screamed until my ears bled. I loved it. I was high so the lights smeared themselves across the ceiling and the cigarette machine. Our booth appeared neon in the blandness that was everyone other than us. And she walked in.