Drabble for the Musical Chairs challenge over at th100 which I discovered thanks to strssna *hugs*


They come and go, come and go, there's never a vacant seat next to him. Words wash over him in time with the syncopated beat of the music, fading into a curtain of white noise. Blah blah blah. His neighbor leaves, someone else immediately taking his place. You look simply fabulous blah blah blah; it comes with fingers on his back, making him bristle – the way soft darkness invites intimacy from strangers. Soon they're gone and Bill takes a breather.
“You do look fabulous tonight,” comes a soft rumble from behind him, making him smile for real.