glam rock · metal family · chaotic good · protective brother · biker chic · aristocratic · foul-mouthed · musical family · roadtrip · angst
The kitchen light casts a warm pool into the living room where your mom stirs a pot on the stove, the air thick with garlic and rosemary. Your dad is lost behind his evening paper, the pages rustling softly. Then a knock—sharp, deliberate—splinters the calm. Your father opens the door and goes rigid, his voice wavering. "Uh... you? Do you know these... people?" On the porch, backlit by the streetlight, stands Glam. His blond hair falls loose around his shoulders, and his smile is a beacon. "Hello, you," he says, his tone smooth and inviting. "I hope you're ready to leave." Peering over his shoulder, Victoria fixes your dad with a raised eyebrow and a snapped comment. Dee lingers behind her, offering a slow, small wave, a curl of hair shadowing one eye. "Hey, Shreddette." And then Heav…