Melody had been buzzing all day, energy fizzing out of her pores as she had blared South Season songs throughout the house, lying spread out on the floor of the sitting room with a huge sketchbook in front of her, a watercolour palette and an array of pencils laid out on a sheet of newspaper. She had been like that for hours, funnelling her excitement into her art, and any time Ishaana wanted a cup of tea, she'd had to step over the minefield of art supplies that regularly littered the house.

After several hours, Melody had laid out an expressive piece to dry, explaining that she had painted the album, interpreting each song through the charcoal and her paintbrush when all she could think about was the concert waiting for them at the end of the day. While the doors opened at seven, it would be two hours before South Season actually made it onto the stage and after a little gentle persuasion, Ishaana had talked Melody into having dinner out before the show, promising to make it to the venue before the interval was over.

It was going to be packed. The tickets were sold out, a wonder that Melody had managed to get any at all when they had been released so close to the date of the concert: Ishaana hadn't realised that it was quite an intimate gig, with a capacity of one thousand. The tickets had gone on sale at nine o'clock on Friday morning, just two and a half days before the show, and Melody had managed to snag a couple for thirty pounds each before resale had rocketed the price through the roof.

Tonight was the only concert the band were doing in England before they headed out to America for a few months, due to return to the United Kingdom and continue the tour with thirty more dates. Melody would no doubt want to see them then too, but Ishaana vowed to have weakened her obsession by that point, or found her someone to take to concerts.

"God, I can't wait," Melody said as they sat in a cosy pub in the centre of Birmingham, a mile or so from the venue, and she jiggled her feet as she ate. Even in the pub's dim lighting, her cheeks shone as brightly as her eyes, the soft overhead glow bouncing off her glasses, and Ishaana couldn't help but smile at her friend's excitement. Melody reminded her of a puppy, the kind that wagged its tail so hard that its whole body shook.

"We'll head off in half an hour," she said, glancing at her watch. According the venue's website, South Season would be on the stage in a little under an hour, though she had already resigned herself to waiting around as the interval got longer and longer, and she had been slowly imbibing as they had eaten their supper. It would be a lot easier to enjoy the concert if she had a few drinks in her system and she was already on her third double vodka orange: her usual drink of choice, it was on offer for just two pounds fifty until eleven o'clock, and she wasn't about to waste that opportunity when the club would be so much more expensive.

"We could be missing the most amazing band right now," Melody said, sipping the glass of wine she'd ordered with her fish pie, scooping up a generous mouthful on her fork. "What if the support band is, like, your new favourite group?"

Ishaana doubted that, cutting a chip in half before piercing it along with a sliver of deliciously plump, seasoned chicken breast. "Who are they?" she asked once she had swallowed. Melody unlocked her phone, bringing up the concert details for the name of the support group before she tapped them into Google and handed her phone to Ishaana. Wiping her fingers on a napkin, she squinted at the screen that displayed a photograph of two men around her age, who seemed to be total opposites. One was tall and clean-shaven with dark skin and black hair that he wore in dreadlocks; the other was shorter and pale, his dirty blonde hair hanging to his shoulders and a moustache tickling his upper lip.

"They're cute," she mused, scrolling down to the heading beneath their photograph: Bishop Knight, 22, and Casey Watts, 23, of Two Degrees. "American?"

"I think so," Melody said. "I didn't really look them up, but their names sound American. Or, at least, not very English."

On a mission, Ishaana scrolled further and laughed at the following paragraph, which she tapped with her nail and showed to Melody. "They're from Brighton," she said, chuckling. "About as British as they come. This is their first big gig."

"Aw," Melody said with a smile. "We should've gone. It must suck when no-one goes to the support."

Ishaana shrugged, tucking into her chicken once more. Her parents had raised her and her sister as vegetarians but when she had started high school, she had given into the temptation and ease of the chicken and chips that she had never been allowed at home. When her father had found out that she had broken tradition behind his back, it had taken a while to fix that crack in their relationship, especially when she had announced that she didn't intend to go back to the vegetarianism he had instilled in her. They had fought over that for years, a constant strain on their bond that had only been mediated by her mother.

"I don't think we're missing out," she said at last. "I'd rather have a good meal and a few drinks with you, anyway. We can find them on Spotify, later. If they're good, buy their album."

Melody grinned and locked her phone, tucking it back into her pocket. "Ok," she said, bouncing in her seat as she thumped her heel against her calf. "All the more time to get pumped for South Season, right?"

Ishaana rolled her eyes and let out a dry chuckle. "Can't wait."

The noise that erupted in the concert hall when the band stepped onto the stage could rival the ground-shaking rush of a jet taking off. The entire building shook with the screams and stamping feet of nine hundred and ninety-nine mega fans, while Ishaana stood fast, gripping her plastic cup. A vodka orange at the bar had cost her six pounds, a price she had balked at, but it was cheaper than trying to bring in her own alcohol and have it confiscated. Sipping the dregs of the tangy alcoholic orange juice, she was forced to move when beside her, Melody was jumping like a maniac, partly in her wild welcome of the band to the venue, and partly because she couldn't quite see.

"Oh my God!" she yelled, screaming right into Ishaana's ear. "I can't believe they're actually here. This is fucking insane, Ishy!" She gripped Ishaana's arm, whooping and hollering along with everyone else, and Ishaana had to laugh. It amused her to see Melody as such a stereotypical fangirl, on the cusp of hyperventilating when her favourite band came out, when the other side of her was an English student who was on track for a high first class honours degree.

Without so much as a hello, the band launched into their most famous song, and the one that made Ishaana roll her eyes the hardest with the cringe-worthy unspecific lyrics about a beautiful girl. She was willing to bet that almost every single girl in the room found some way to identify with the lyrics, regardless of their looks or their age, and the noise of fans singing along was almost as loud as the band themselves. It would only be a matter of time before someone passed out, she reckoned: the venue was small and hot, squashing people elbow to elbow in what was at risk of becoming a trampled mosh pit, and some of the screeching fans were as young as fourteen.

It was impossible not to get into the music. Although Ishaana wasn't a fan, it was easy to listen to and after months of Melody playing it on repeat, she was ashamed to admit that she knew many of the lyrics, purely due to overexposure. As though subliminally conditioning her housemates, Melody was always murmuring the lyrics under her breath if she wasn't outright singing them, slipping references into her everyday vernacular so that when Ishaana heard the songs, they rang with a bell of familiarity.

Melody was at the mercy of the music, senselessly dancing as her movements were dictated by the alcohol in her system and the crowds that bumped around her, both arms in the air as she sang along to every single song, word for word. The band of three played three songs in a row before they addressed the crowd, though it took a full minute for the horde to quieten down enough for them to be heard.

"Hello, Manchester!" called the lead singer, Eric, and he was instantly drowned out by screams and applause. Ishaana couldn't make out what he said next, battling the fans for volume, and it wasn't long before he picked up a guitar and began to play, followed by his bandmates, Jamie and Mehmet. She kept her eye on the last member of the band, the one she deemed the most attractive, while Melody had always been fond of Jamie, a fellow redhead.

The set list was eighteen songs. When they reached the end of the tenth, Ishaana reached for Melody, grabbing her elbow and pulling her over, her lips finding her ear.

"I'm gonna go get a drink!" she yelled over the constant screams, jerking her thumb towards the bar. She was in need of another vodka orange or two, before her usual cynicism kicked in and made it difficult to enjoy the concert. While that was a strong word, and she was tolerating it more than she was enjoying it, she found a great deal of amusement in watching Melody, and it was surprisingly easy to switch off her brain as she listened to the music, her mind slipping into neutral as she thought about heading home to see her sister for a couple of days.

"Ok!" Melody cried back.

"Don't move, ok? I'll come back to you," she said, scanning the crowed to remember exactly where she was. She had made an effort not to move too much since the beginning, memorising the spot she had occupied for almost an hour. She was a master a manipulating her way through a crowd, and it wouldn't be too difficult to slip back to Melody once she'd topped up her units. "D'you want a drink?"

Melody shook her head. She'd had three glasses of wine that evening, more than enough to go to her head when there was hardly anything of her, and she wore a wide, loopy grin as she pushed her fiery hair off her face. Her glasses were tucked away safely in her bag, away from spiky elbows, and Ishaana knew that meant she was virtually blind, people blurring into an indistinguishable, featureless blob without the lenses that sharpened her vision.

Muscling her way to the back of the venue, Ishaana squeezed her way into the bartender's line of vision, though he ignored her as he dealt with a dearth of orders from the mass of an unformed queue in front of her. Sighing, she rolled a ten pound note in her hand, already bidding farewell to the money as she resigned herself to the extortionate price of a drink.

When someone bumped against her from behind, almost knocking her off her feet, she turned around with a scowl and her elbow at the ready to defend herself. "Hey," she said sharply. "Watch where you're going."

The man behind her was vaguely familiar, with tousled blonde hair and blue eyes. He held up his hands, his lips quirking into a smile. "Sorry," he said, his voice gravelly. "Let me make it up to you. What's your poison?"

Ishaana harrumphed, but she couldn't say no to a free drink, and she eyed up the stranger before she said, "Vodka and orange. Double."

He smiled, eyes crinkling. "Nice." Holding up his hand over a sea of heads, he seemed to catch the bartender's attention with ease. "Hey, Dylan! Two double vodka oranges, on the tab," he called, and Ishaana raised her sceptical eyebrows, folding her arms across her modest chest. She'd always had something of a boyish figure, with little in the way of breasts or hips, but she knew how to work what she had, and her body had yet to let her down.

"You have a tab? At a gig?" she asked, cynicism dripping from her tone. "D'you buy drinks for a lot of girls then, huh?"

He snorted, reaching over people to take the drinks that the bartender had set to work on immediately, and he passed one to Ishaana. "Only the pretty ones," he said, knocking his plastic cup against hers. She took a sip before she glossed her eyes over him, trying to think of why he was so familiar.

"Do I know you?" she asked at last, but he shook his head.

"When did you get here?"

"Five to nine," she said, the time imprinted on her memory: for the entire twenty minute walk, Melody had panicked that they'd be too late and they wouldn't be allowed in, only settling once they'd joined the queue. "Why?"

He chuckled and held out his hand, swaying slightly. There was no doubt he'd been hanging around at the bar for a while. "Casey," he said. "From the support band."

With a dry laugh, Ishaana shook his hand and swigged from her drink. The alcohol warmed her stomach when it rushed down her throat, sending a buzz flickering through her. "Ishaana. The non-supporter."

"Ishaana, huh? Cute name." He finished half of his drink in one gulp, slowly licking his lips.

"Everyone calls me Ishy," she said, unsure of why she was opening up to a stranger, a singer whose band she hadn't even bothered to show up for, though she figured the vodka played some part in that. It always loosened her lips, as though it was some kind of truth serum.

"Everyone calls me Casey," he said drily, "because that's my name." He took a deep breath, steadying himself on his feet, and Ishaana stood straight. They were the same height, or thereabouts, and she was taller when he slouched against the crowd. "You here for these guys, then?" Casey nodded his head at the stage and she wrinkled her nose, shaking her head.

"I'm here for my friend," she said, sipping her drink. "I don't like these guys. Not my style."

"Me neither," he said, laughing and almost tripping, though he was standing still. "What's your style then, Ishy?"

She paused, thinking for a moment before she said, "Anything else."

That got a laugh out of Casey, probably more of a laugh than if he had been sober, and he finished his drink. Ishaana did the same, letting him take the plastic cup, and a hot fizz ran through her veins as the alcohol seeped into her system, setting her nerves alight. It was usually around the three drink mark that her inhibitions slipped and having just polished off her fifth, she wavered close enough to Casey to smell his aftershave. Her eyes dipped down to his lips and she wondered what his moustache would feel like if she kissed him, while his gaze grazed her breasts.

"Wanna take off?" he murmured, dragging his eyes up to meet hers, and Ishaana fought the urge to say yes. Any other time she would, often leaving a club earlier than planned when she found someone she wanted to go home with. But not today. She needed to get back to Melody.

"I can't," she said with a sigh. "I'm with my friend."

Casey dug his hand into his pocket, digging around in his jacket for a pen, and he took Ishaana's hand. His fingers were soft, his touch gentle, and she couldn't help but wonder how his fingertips would feel on her breasts, between her thighs. Taking the cap off with his teeth, he scrawled several words and digits across her skin, the ink almost impossible to see in the darkness.

"I'm staying in the city for a couple of days. My hotel," he said, pointing at the first few words, "and my room." He jabbed the number. "Second floor, first room." Dropping the pen into his pocket, his hand found Ishaana's jaw and he lifted her chin to face him, pulling her attention away from her hand. "Think about it?" he asked, easing her close as he took her by surprise with a kiss. His moustache bristled against her skin, tickling her upper lip.

"Ok," she said, a smile creeping over her. He tasted like her favourite drink, the citrus tang lingering on her tongue. Giving in for a moment, she laced her hands around the back of his neck and returned the kiss, pressing her body against his. When she felt him stiffen against her hip, she smiled and dropped her hands, stepping away. He groaned his disappointment and she gave him an enigmatic smile as she slipped back into the crowd.

"See you later, Ishy," he called after her, and she smiled to herself. Maybe he would.

It took four minutes to find her way back to Melody, squeezing through the crowd that had shifted a little in the time she had been at the bar, a rush of tipsy lust coursing through her veins and fizzing between her hips.

"Ishy!" Melody cried, flinging her arms around her. There were still five songs to go, but Ishaana couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she did go back to Casey's hotel room at the end of the night, fantasising about the thrill of a one night stand with a singer she had never heard of before. "Look who I found!"

Ishaana looked around, though she couldn't see anyone she recognised until Melody pulled over an unfamiliar girl who wore a drunken grin plastered across her lips.

"This is Jade," she said, slinging her arm around the girl, and a triumphant beam broke out between her cheeks. "She's a baby lesbian." Tripping forward, she leant close to Ishaana and said, "I'm not throwing away my shot. We're the only gays in the gig!"

Ishaana laughed, pushed against Melody and her new friend when someone shoved past her in an effort to get closer to the front of the venue. They weren't too far from the stage as it was, thanks to the force with which Melody had pushed her way forwards when they had arrived, making a spot for themselves.

"You were ages at the bar," she yelled, her voice only just carrying to Ishaana's ears.

"I met Casey," she said, "from the support band." Holding up her hand, she pointed at the scrawl she could only just decipher. "He gave me his room number."

Melody's lit up as she danced with Jade, the two of them jigging together to one of the last few songs of the night. "Nice! Get lucky, Ish!" she cried. Ishaana raised her eyebrows, her body swaying as her drinks flowed through her. Melody's permission was all she needed, and what she realised she really wanted.

"D'you mind? I don't want to leave you hanging."

Melody wore a wicked grin, one hand on her new friend's shoulder to pull her close. "Baby lesbian's coming home with me," she said with a giggle. "You go fuck your singer; I'll go fuck her fingers."

Ishaana laughed out loud at that, alcohol bringing out Melody's deliciously naughty side, and a thrill ran through her as she looked down at her hand. Digging her purse out of her pocket, she thrust it into Melody's hand. "Take my tickets," she said. She wasn't going to use them anyway, with no intention of catching the last train that departed thirty minutes after the end of the concert, not when she had the chance to spend the night with an incredibly cute singer whose voice was rougher than his hands.

She loved the thrill of a one night stand, the rush of ecstasy that came with no-strings-attached sex, fulfilling a craving without committing herself to a relationship. While she'd never had a boyfriend, nor seen the same person for more than five dates, she had more than her fair share of experience dabbling in flings that ended when the night was over. That was the way she liked it, and she had no intention of changing that.

"Are you sure?" she asked when the noise died down a little between songs, and Melody nodded, gripping her friend's purse.

"Positive. Have fun!"

There was a mass exodus once the concert had ended and when half of the crowd surged to try to get on the stage and find the band, the rest poured towards the exits. Ishaana stayed with Melody for as long as she could, until she and Jade peeled off towards the station with a hug for Ishaana, who found herself alone in a city she hardly knew with a little too much booze in her blood, and she steadied herself against a lampost in the cold February air while she waited for the crowd to thin out.

Glancing down at her hand, she pulled up her maps app and typed in the name of the hotel, spelling it correctly on her fourth attempt. It was no distance, a few hundred metres away, and she set off towards it before a hand wrapped around her elbow and she steeled herself to attack. When she turned, however, she came face to face with Casey. He wore a tipsy grin, his fingers loose on her arm.

"Found you," he said, swooping down to plant a wonky kiss on her lips and she leant against him until he pulled away. "Wanna come over?"

She nodded, glad that she hadn't worn heels as she followed him along the cobbled pavement, going against the flow as they headed towards the hotel he was staying in. Clutching onto his arm for a little extra support when she almost fell, she revelled in the breeze on her cheeks after almost two hours in the stuffy concert hall, and she gazed at the hazy night that didn't show a single star.

When the doors of the lift closed, shutting the two of them inside, Casey turned to her with lust in his eyes that he struggled to lift from the shadow of her cleavage, his hands on her hips as he kissed her deeply. His desperate tongue explored hers for the ten seconds it took to climb two storeys, and he led her by the hand to his room, scanning the key card three times before the door clicked open and he pulled her inside.

It was the room of a band member. That was Ishaana's first thought when he dragged her into room number twenty-one, a couple of guitars leaning against the wall. Clothes were strewn over the floor, the desk littered with scribbled pages of lyrics and notes, but there was no time to take it all in when Casey pushed her against the wall and ran his fingers over her arms, devouring her as he pressed himself against her heaving chest. One hand slipped under her shirt, clumsily groping her breast until she pulled the top off, letting it drop to the floor. She wasn't wearing a bra beneath it, which Casey noted with a groan of appreciation.

He squeezed her breast, grazing his thumb over her areola as his lips found her earlobe, grinding against her as he teased her nipple. His other hand moved to the waistband of her jeans, expertly undoing the button, and she pushed the denim down to her ankles, kicking off her jeans and her underwear so that she stood naked before him. For a moment, he was mesmerised by her form, his eyes drinking in her body, and he stiffened at the sight. Ishaana traced her hand down his chest to his jeans, teasing him over the material as she grazed her hand over his erection, aching for him to fill her.

Casey wrestled his way out of his jeans as he pushed her over towards the bed, ripping off his shirt before he stroked his erection with one hand, the other pushing through Ishaana's pubic hair. She parted her legs a little, enough for his fingers to part her lips and find that she was already wet, her body begging her to play with it. Holding his gaze, she moved one hand down her stomach, slipping it between her legs, and she exaggerated her gasp when she pushed one finger inside, spreading her wetness around herself.

"I'm on the pill," she said as she pulled him closer, and a wicked grin made its way onto his lips as he took her hand away from herself, lifting her fingers to his lips to suck them clean.

"I wanna fuck you, Ishy," he muttered in her ear, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. Ishaana slipped her other hand between her legs, using her own wetness to lubricate Casey's erection, slowly stroking it before she let him push her onto the bed. Lifting her parted knees, she guided him into her with a heavy sigh of satisfaction at the way he filled her. He pulled her closer to the end of the bed, fingers digging into her hips as he gripped her a little tighter each time he thrust into her. Closing her eyes, Ishaana wrapped her legs around him, slipping into the rhythm as she pulled him into her each time he pounded her, There was no soundtrack but their breaths and the slap of skin on skin, but she liked that. She loved the rawness of sleeping with someone she didn't know, the feeling of being filled by someone she would never see again.

Tightening her grip on Casey with her legs, she reached up to his shoulders, pulling his weight on top of her so she could roll him onto his back, knowing exactly how to manipulate herself into a new position when she tired of lying on her back, and Casey let out a guttural laugh when she planted her hands on his chest, rolling her hips as she straddled him.

"You liked that?" she asked, her hair swinging in his face, and he nodded as he grunted, his fingers almost piercing her skin as he dug into her hips, pulling her down onto him as he thrust up, breathing heavily. Ishaana moved her hand between their bodies, rubbing herself as she widened her hips, and when she knew Casey was watching, she brought her hand to her mouth, tracing wet fingers over her lips before she licked them with a slow tongue.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned. "God, I wanna fuck you so hard." His hands moved to her waist, taking control once more as he threw her onto the bed, rolling her onto her front and dragging her hips up to meet him before he drove his thick erection into her, slamming into her as he panted and she groaned into his duvet. Grabbing a pillow, she knotted her fists in the material as her feet tried to get purchase on the bed, pulling her knees higher and wider as Casey pounded her harder.

"Mmm, yes," she groaned, holding her breath as she pressed her face into the pillow, one hand finding its way between her legs while the other kneaded her breast. "Fuck me, fuck me harder," she said, her words hitching on her breath each time he drove into her, forcing the breath right out of her lungs with each powerful thrust. She knew she wouldn't last long: she never did when she'd been drinking, her body already soaring on a high before she brought sex into the equation, and she could tell from Casey's breaths that he was the same, grinding into her as though there was no tomorrow.

She heard the creak of the connecting door, followed by an embarrassed gasp, though she didn't register it until Casey groaned, his pace unchanging.

"Fuck off!" he yelled, dropping his head with a grunt. "Fucking Bishop," he muttered, one hand reaching forward to grab Ishaana's breast, his movements rough as he neared his climax. Kneading her flesh while she touched herself, he moaned as his breaths became jagged. "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come. Oh, I'm gonna come."

"Come in me," she said, bearing down against him as she rubbed faster, the tingle of warmth flushing her body as she felt her orgasm approaching. "I want you to come in my pussy."

That was all the encouragement he needed. As Ishaana's orgasm overwhelmed her, her shuddering pelvis clenching around him as she held her breath, pulsations forcing Casey out of her, he came with a groan, jerking against her pelvis as he squeezed out every last drop and lazily pushed back into Ishaana. She had mastered the art of multiple orgasms long ago, knowing exactly how to work her body into the throes of passion, and she persisted until the second wave crashed over her, stronger than the first.

Shoulders heaving, she slumped on the bed when Casey pulled out of her, her muscles still twitching as she lazily played with herself in the aftermath of her orgasm. Sex always tired her out; drunk sex was a double whammy, wiping her out as she lay panting on the bed. Casey's fingers took over hers, dipping into her in a curious curl, and she sighed against his touch when he dropped down beside her, his naked body pressed against hers as he slowly fingered her. His hands parted her thighs, his tongue replacing his thumb, and she let him have all of her.

That was just what she had needed, a night of unhinged, no strings sex to rid herself of the past five weeks of university. It was the perfect way to kick off the next seven days of freedom, unleashing the side of herself she wished she had more time to explore. She liked sex: she loved it, to have someone giving her the most intense pleasure as she gave it back to them, bodies working in tandem to reach that orgasmic high. Ishaana had taught herself to banish the guilt she had once felt whenever she had spread her legs, now rejoicing in the sensations she craved so much: she knew her body better than anything, and she loved it just as much.

+ - + - +

so, i hope this chapter gives you more of a taste of what ishaana's like, as well as what the story will be like. from previous comments, i get the feeling that's not what you guys expected to happen, but i hope you liked it anyway! i hope it didn't seem to rushed. i'm still getting back into writing mature scenes after a while away!