Ficly

yes

They turned up the music. Not so someone would notice. Enough so that she couldn’t put the next word in place. She could see the words struggling to remain intact…

Failing.

The others in the room never noticed anything subtle. They didn’t see the words they used lining up perfectly before being committed to. They just babbled on, without regard, without attention. She could see them watching her, waiting for the moment when she would give up, surrender, stop struggling. Eyes focused only on her.
She stared back letting the music have her now. Whatever parts of her it wanted. Her skin prickled, her muscles jerked. She did not take her eyes from theirs as the music made its way through her.
She forced her attention onto the music feeling its shape, its structure, and rammed it into the words, ignoring order, sense.

The song shot from her mouth as fiercely as they’d forced it into her brain. She stared back as the sound filled all the spaces available.

There was not even room for light.

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