Just had the most intense drum session. The rhythm was all off at first, couldn't find the beat. Started thinking about last Thursday instead—that moment in the practice room when you pushed me against the soundproof wall, my legs wrapped around your waist, my leotard pulled down to expose my tits. The way you bit my nipple while fucking me standing up, my moans drowned out by the crash cymbal I kept hitting with my free hand. My sticky webs accidentally sealed the door shut. We didn't notice until security tried to check why we'd been there for three hours. The look on that guard's face when he saw my bare ass cheeks still red from your slaps... worth the detention. Sometimes the best music isn't made with sticks.