The music continued uninterrupted. And who was on stage? Kirsten didn’t know. Didn’t care. After all those weeks comparing DJs. Was Carl Cox on? W...s Judge Jules, Paul Oakenfold, Ferry Corsten, Armand Van Helden? Was it going to be blinding? Or cheesy? Or hard? Or trancey? Who fucking cared? The rain beat down gently, softer than the music, barely noticed on the sweat that already had her hair sodden and damp and lank and sticking to her bare skin. But not for long. Just a shower. Thank fucking. ' the line from the song played in her head as she wondered how she could get some alone time with her neighbor.Michelle arrived in her room; she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted something and she didn't even know what. Throwing herself on her bed she grabbed her newly formed breasts and squeezed. She wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. It was like the feeling she got when she washed herself times a thousand. She felt like her whole body was under pressure; some parts. More

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