Sixteen
Whit
D ays blend into a week, each moment with Scarlett weaving a tapestry of joy and serenity that I had never known. The mornings are a tender ritual where the soft light filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow that envelops us in warmth. Her presence fills the air with an intoxicating mix of fresh lavender and her own unique essence, a scent that now feels like home.
"I want to ask you something, little flame," I murmur, my voice barely rising above the gentle hum of the ceiling fan. Her eyes, sparkling with curiosity, meet mine. Emerald green pools that hold the promise of a thousand untold stories. She nods, her crimson hair cascading over the pillow like a silken waterfall.
"What’s up, rockstar?" she replies, her voice a melody that dances through the air, light and playful.
I can't help but smirk at the nickname she bestowed upon me. "I know we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks, but would you consider making this a more permanent arrangement?"
Her smile blooms, radiating warmth. She shifts, rolling on top of me, her playful energy palpable. Her bottom lip, bitten in that flirtatious way of hers, tugs at my heart. "You’ve already moved me in here. What else did you have in mind?"
A rush of excitement courses through me as I flip her onto her back, our bodies entwined like the morning light and shadow. "I was thinking we could get married and make it official," I whisper, my lips brushing against hers. "I can’t imagine my life without you, and you’re never escaping me, so how about it?"
Scarlett giggles, a sound so pure it wraps around my heart like a cherished memory. Her legs wrap around me, anchoring me to this moment. "Is this your way of proposing to me, Whit?" she asks, a playful arch to her eyebrow.
I nod, a grin spreading across my face like the dawn. "Yeah, I guess it is. So, what do you say? Marry me and make me the happiest man on earth."
Her grin is infectious, pulling me into another kiss. "Are you asking or telling me?" she murmurs against my lips, her voice thick with happiness.
"It’s ninety five percent not a question."
"Then it's a yes," she says, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I kiss her again, feeling like the luckiest man alive. "Good," I laugh softly. "I’d hate to force you into wearing this."
From the bedside drawer, I pull out a small black velvet box and open it, revealing a stunning diamond engagement ring with a ruby at its heart. The ring catches the light, sending sparkles across the room.
Scarlett gasps, her eyes wide with shock and delight. "Oh my god, Whit. It’s beautiful."
Tears glisten in her eyes as she searches mine, seeking sincerity. "Are you sure?"
I lean closer, my forehead resting against hers and nod emphatically, completely overwhelmed by a feeling I can’t quite articulate.
“More than sure. I want you to be my wife, Scarlett.”
I slide the ring onto her finger, marveling at how it complements her skin. "Now, how about we celebrate?"
With that, I roll on top of her again, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, taking in the scent of her hair and the feel of her skin beneath my lips. The morning is filled with the sound of laughter and whispered promises.
“Whit...” she moans softly as I continue my descent, licking and sucking at her delicate nipples, her body arching in response.
She reaches between us, her fingers wrapping around my cock, stroking slowly with just the right amount of pressure.
I groan, throwing my head back, desperate for more of her touch.
“Scarlett…” I breathe her name like a prayer, my hips instinctively thrusting forward, craving her.
She pumps her fist around me teasingly, her thumb brushing against the tip, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
“You know I love you, right?” I pull back to gaze into her electric green eyes, filled with adoration and mischief, ready to embark on this new chapter together.
“I love you too,” she replies breathlessly, pulling me back down to her, our lips crashing together in a heated kiss that ignites the fire burning between us.
“Fuck, Whit,” she moans as I move down her body, leaving a trail of wet kisses on her stomach. I push her thighs apart and settle between them, my mouth watering at the sight of her glistening pussy.
“Such a pretty little cunt,” I groan before leaning in and dragging my tongue through her wetness. She arches her back, her hips lifting off the bed, begging for more. I wrap my arms around her thighs, holding her in place as I devour her. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling and guiding me where she needs me most. I suck her clit into my mouth, flicking my tongue over the swollen bud, making her cry out.
I’m about to slam my fingers inside when my text messages begin going off in rapid succession.
“Fuck,” I mutter, reaching over to grab my phone from the nightstand. I check the screen and see it’s from the band. “What the hell?”
I unlock my phone and read the group messages.
Lennox:
Get down to Echo, now.
Blaine:
They’ve moved up our tour dates.
Lennox:
How the hell are we supposed to be ready to go after Thursday’s show?
Lennox:
Wake the fuck up, @Whit !
Blaine:
We’ll meet you there in 10. Already texted Scar in case your dumbass is still asleep.
“Fucking assholes,” I mumble, getting up from the bed and searching for clothes.
“What’s going on?” she asks, sitting up.
“I gotta get to the studio,” I reply, pulling on a pair of jeans.
“Blaine texted. Need me to come?”
“No, stay and relax. I’ll let you know when I’m coming back.”
“Alright,” she says, laying back down and watching me get ready. “I’ll see you later, rockstar.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, kissing her forehead before walking out the door.
The drive to the recording studio is filled with tension as I try to process everything that’s happening. I’m not ready to go on tour, but it seems like it’s going to happen anyway. I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave Scarlett behind. Not now. Not when we’ve just started this journey together. Not after everything we’ve been through, not when we need a plan to bring my father down. I just proposed, for fuck’s sake. There was supposed to be more time.
I arrive at the studio and park my gunmetal Audi R8, the engine purring softly as I cut it off. Looking around, I notice Lennox’s brand new red Ferrari parked proudly, a show of wealth and style. Blaine’s black Escalade looms nearby, a reminder of our recent advances with the label. I get out of my car, and my heart starts pounding harder as I head inside.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, my voice shaky yet determined as I take a seat, trying to steady my racing heart.
Blaine leans back in his chair, his jaw clenched. “The label has decided to push up the tour dates. They want us to be ready to go after Thursday’s show.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My anger bubbles over. “How are we supposed to be ready to go after Thursday’s show? We don’t even have a new album yet!”
Mike steps in, slipping through the door just as I was set to find him and drag him in here. “Are you in charge of this bullshit?” I demand, leveling a glare at him.
“I’m just the messenger,” he defends, glancing between my bandmates nervously. “But I agree—it’s a shit move.”
Frustration takes hold as I lean back in my chair, letting out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, this is fucked up.”
Lennox rubs the back of his neck, looking lost. “Then we have no choice. We have to go on tour.”
“No, we can’t just leave our lives behind like this. What about Scarlett? I can’t leave her. I just proposed to her last night!”
Lennox’s eyes widen in surprise, his surprise mingling with admiration. “You proposed? Damn, dude. I didn’t know you were that serious about her.”
I nod, a swell of pride rising inside me. “Yeah, we’re serious. And I won’t leave her behind. Plus, she’s not safe here with my father. He attacked her in the library, so that’s why she’s staying with me.”
Blaine leans forward, his expression contemplative. “I don’t have a problem with her. She’s working on the lyrics now, and she can continue to do so on tour. And we definitely can’t leave her behind with that asshole after her.”
As the words sink in, my mind races with possibilities. “We can make this work, I know we can. We’ll figure out the details later but for now, she’s coming with us. Agreed?”
The band exchanges looks, and I can see them processing the gravity of the situation. Finally, Lennox speaks, his voice cautious yet encouraging. “I mean, we seriously can’t leave her. We know how your father is, remember? We were all there those years ago. And Blaine’s right, she rocks at lyrics. My vote’s yes.”
Blaine nods slowly in agreement, a hint of relief washing over me. “Thanks guys. We’ll handle this together, just like we always do.”
With everyone on board, we shift the focus back to the tour preparations.
“Boys, did you know Soul’s Obsession hit the Billboard number 1 charts?” Mike announces, scrolling through his phone, his face lighting up with excitement.
“No way!” Blaine exclaims, and we all exchange glances, the previous tension fading just a bit.
“I just got the email. Congratulations, guys. That’s a huge accomplishment!” We all smile and high-five each other, the camaraderie lifting our spirits.
“Thanks, Mike,” I say, pride swelling in my chest. That’s my song, the one I crafted for Scarlett, the intimate lyrics echoing the love we’ve found together. It’s surreal to see it hold the number one spot. “We couldn’t have done it without you, Mike.”
He nods and smiles, an undeniable glimmer of pride in his eyes.
As we start to outline our strategies for the upcoming tour, the excitement begins to build. The fears of leaving Scarlett behind momentarily fade as I imagine her by my side, working on her lyrics, inspiring me with her creativity and love.
After a while, it’s decided; Scarlett will accompany us on tour, contributing to our music while navigating the chaos that comes with it, and together we’ll devise a plan to confront the threats looming over us.
Mike claps his hands, bringing us back to the present. “Alright, guys, let’s get home and start packing. We’ve got a lot to prepare for.”
Lennox adds, “We should make a checklist of everything we need. Instruments, equipment, personal stuff... and don’t forget the essentials for Scarlett.”
“Good idea,” I agree, my voice hollow. “Let’s make sure we have everything covered.”
As we wrap up, the room buzzes with nervous energy. We gather our things and head out, the anticipation of the upcoming journey coursing through us all. The excitement is palpable, each of us caught in the thrill of what lies ahead.
We step out of Echo Heights and to our surprise, a wall of paparazzi is waiting for us. The sudden flash of cameras and the thunder of shouting voices take us aback. Lennox and Blaine freeze for a moment, their eyes wide as if they’d just walked into a thunderstorm. Inside, I can feel a swell of anxiety churning, but I force myself to stay cool and collected.
How did they know we were here?
I stride forward with an easy confidence, offering a casual wave and a smirk to the photographers. I have to keep it together, not just for myself, but for Lennox and Blaine. I glance back at them, giving a reassuring nod. They’ve got this—we’ve all been in the spotlight before, but this level of attention is new, and we need to handle it like pros.
The questions fly fast and furious, the paparazzi shouting over each other:
“Whit, how does it feel to have ‘Soul’s Obsession’ hit number one?”
“Lennox, Blaine, what’s next for Chaos Theory?”
“Is there a tour in the works to celebrate the success?”
I let the words wash over me, barely registering them as I focus on the path ahead. This is the reality of being rockstars, and we have to learn to navigate it.
Nicolas, ever the vigilant bodyguard, steps in to create a path through the crowd. He gives me a knowing look, his calm demeanor a steady anchor in the chaos. I take a deep breath and follow him, my mind a whirl of thoughts.
A particularly loud voice cuts through the noise, “Whit, any comments on the inspiration behind the song?”
I turn and flash a grin at the reporter. “Just life, man. It’s all about those moments that grab your soul and don’t let go.”
Lennox and Blaine nod along, and Lennox adds, “It’s surreal, but we’re ready for whatever comes next.”
As we make our way to the waiting cars, the paparazzi continue to swarm, their cameras capturing every moment. The noise and chaos are dizzying, but I manage to keep my composure, relying on the strength of those around me.
Then, another voice pierces through the cacophony, “Whit, who’s the redhead you’ve been seen with? Is there something going on?”
My jaw tightens for a moment, but I don’t let it show. I turn to face the question, keeping my expression relaxed. “She has a name, fucker, and Scarlett’s my fiancée.”
The paparazzi murmur amongst themselves, but I don’t give them a chance to press further. Nicolas ushers us into the band’s new blacked out Escalade, and we slide inside, the noise of the paparazzi muffled as the doors close.
I lean back in my seat, letting out a deep breath, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. I reach over and give Lennox and Blaine a fist bump, dispelling the remnants of tension in the air.
“That was intense,” Lennox says, his voice shaking slightly.
“Welcome to our new world,” I chuckle, but the edges of my lips are pulled tight as I recall the chaos outside. “We need to stick together. Remember, we’re Chaos Theory, not just a couple of guys with a hit song.”
“Your cars will be dropped off at your homes. We needed to make a quick exit,” Nic says as we pull into traffic.
As we speed away from Echo Heights, I know this tour will be significant for more than just our careers; it’s a chance to define what our futures will look like outside the limelight.