Chapter 2
The opening act finished—not too shabby for an unknown band. Sydney shook my arm excitedly, gibbering on about how amazing the band was. Katie giggled with her, as Tera and Megan disappeared to grab drinks for us.
I wasn’t planning on having anything, knowing that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to get my papers graded by tomorrow with the hangover that would ensue.
My thoughts remained distant as Sydney’s words fell on deaf ears.
The smell of smoke and sweat hung stiff in the air.
A familiarity twinged in my heart when reaching forward and tracing my fingers along the metal railing separating us from security.
The flashing stage lights glinted off the steel as the sound guys double-checked the feedback.
Oranges, crimsons, and dark shades of cobalt danced across the dimly lit arena.
I spun in a slow circle and silently gasped, dazed by the sheer size. Beyond the pit I was crammed into, rows and rows of seats rose all around me. Hordes of people all waited to see this band.
It was shocking, and part of me wondered if I should start paying more attention to my students’ gossip.
I bet they all knew about this band and what I was to expect.
This single concert was already turning out to be more than just a simple evening out with friends, and the main event hadn’t even started.
Suddenly, all light snapped out, silencing the thousands of people and turning my vision black. A slender hand wrapped around my arm, Sydney’s fingers dug into my skin, and she squealed quietly in delight as everything fell still.
Wind noiselessly swept through the crowd.
The hushed whispers of curiosity danced through the arena.
Stuffy inhales of excitement passed amongst the masses.
The scent, laden with alcohol and smoke, sweat, and perfume, brushed around me.
My heart raced in anticipation as a slow hum filled the stadium. A steady beat began to drum, then a single strum of a guitar, and the mob went absolutely ballistic. (1)
I was shoved forward into Katie’s back while the crowd roared in excitement, and spotlights of yellow and orange snapped on.
Rising on the stage, almost directly in front of where I was standing, was a single man, his sinewy frame dancing with the shadows.
Dark hair brushed into a wolf cut, swept across ears that glinted with jewelry.
The spotlights flashed against his earrings as he lifted veiny hands and wrapped them around the microphone.
The notes that left his lips melted against my chest and slithered across my body, bringing goosebumps to the surface.
I stared in awe as the rings upon his fingers lifted and then gently slid down the microphone stand.
Tattoos inked upon both arms, started on his fingers, then disappeared under his black T-shirt and reappeared upon his neck.
Everywhere.
He was as ethereal looking as his voice sounded.
Heart thrilling in anticipation, the hair on the back of my neck rose. The music, as deafening as expected, slithered down my spine as my thoughts became entranced by the poetic lyrics and his angelic voice of death.
His black jogger-like pants billowed in the smoky breeze when he stepped up to the mic and roared the most intoxicating scream.
Sydney’s fingers ripped my arm upward as she shrieked in delight, reaching toward the singer.
I followed her piercing blue gaze as she shook even harder, grasping for him—begging for even an ounce of his attention.
A chill stole down my spine as my eyes met his glowing amber gaze.
It was intense and fierce.
And locked onto me.
I shook my head, stitching my brows together. He wasn’t staring at me. No, it had to be Sydney or Megan or Tera. Or any of the other girls around me he was staring at.
Not me.
But I couldn’t seem to look away, to break that stare.
His wide-set jaw moved, evenly proportioned to that mouth that was producing the strangest, most beautiful notes I’d ever heard.
Not lip syncing either. I recognized the difference between something pre-recorded versus sung in person.
There were no other words in the dictionary that described his voice other than haunting.
Like Velcro, his gaze latched with mine; his dark, pronounced brows twitched, and he tipped his head sideways.
I subconsciously mirrored his movement, and he stalked me with his hunter’s eyes.
Every shallow breath drawn into my lungs grated across the tangible cord entwining between us.
The music danced amongst the screaming crowd, and he continued flawlessly without missing a beat.
But for me, everything except his voice faded away.
The lead and bass guitarists playing behind him disappeared, the drummer drifted into the breeze, leaving a once-crowded stage completely empty.
The bodies scrunched up beside me took flight.
A single spotlight rested on the lone man on a hollow stage.
Darkness swallowed me, yet his rich gaze drank me in.
I stared.
He stared.
Chills snaked across my skin.
This was unreal. Not happening. I’d read the books, heard the stories, but that wasn’t me. I was comfortable being in the background, a supporting character. This was Sydney’s night. She had dragged me here, and yet, it was me he stared at. It was my figure that he lapped up.
No. It couldn’t be.
Choking down some air, I clenched my jaw and scrunched my eyes closed.
There was no way this famous rock star or metal star or whatever he was considered was staring solely at me.
Never before had my own body betrayed me with such obvious longing as it was right now.
This schoolgirl crush was simply that—hormones flooding my system as a reaction to the environment I was in.
Hesitantly, I pried my eyes open. Relief escaped my lungs as the world morphed back into reality around me.
I’d merely imagined it. He no longer looked down at me, no longer focused on what I was doing.
His eyes once again swept across the crowd, entertaining them.
His movements, his fingers, as erotic as ever.
Beside me, Sydney’s screams lowered. Her excitement dimmed, and she swayed in rhythm beside me. I hoped for all that mattered that if he had been staring, it had been at her. It had to have been at her.
For the rest of the concert, I focused on enjoying the music and tried to forget what I thought had happened.
Which was easy. Every time he looked our way, I slipped behind Sydney and breathed in relief as his gaze would focus in on her.
She squealed in absolute delight and whacked at any of our friends who were near her.
I was happy for her, excited even. This lead singer noticed my best friend, and she’d noticed he’d noticed her. As the concert closed in on the ending, another bubble of excitement burst in my stomach. Sydney would get to meet the members of this band in just a few minutes.
But there was a small part of me, buried deep and hidden in a box that I couldn’t keep away, tugging me toward him.
His movements, the way he gripped his mic and danced across the stage, the way his muscled but lean body twisted, made me shiver.
I shouldn’t be feeling this or thinking this.
He was a famous singer, and I was a nobody.
The character that was there to fill in space and maybe help the main character get the guy.
Despite knowing my place, I couldn’t help but admit, he was captivating.
Like every other famous person.
Sighing, I let that small ember die and simply continued to enjoy the music. I cheered and grinned—for Sydney. I clapped and danced along with the music—for Sydney.
And once the band finished, eventually disappearing from the cheering fans and stage, the stadium lights flashed on. Slowly, the crowd began to fade from the building.
Our passes had us waiting, however, since we would follow a different route to meet the members of the band. All seven girls I was with danced in place, squealing and giggling in excitement.
I leaned forward and hooked my arm on Sydney's elbow. “Give me the rundown on who’s who,” I said, and the entire group screeched in excitement.
Sydney faced me with a smile and spoke. “Okay, so we have the drummer. His name is Kieron, and we, as his loving fans, call him The Reaper. The lead guitarist, Drake, is absolutely incredible, and his fans call him Soul Shredder.”
Katie sighed in excitement. “Could you imagine what else his fingers can do?” she dreamily said.
“Annnyyway!” Sydney cut her off as my friends all chuckled. “Then there is the bass guitarist, Jaxon. We call him Slayer because, well, he slays!” I rolled my eyes, and Tera clicked her tongue but laughed.
“And the singer?” I hesitantly questioned.
Sydney went limp against me, placing the back of her hand against her forehead.
“He’s the Dark Banshee,” Megan answered for her, and I raised my brows. Perfectly fitting, for that was one way to describe his voice.
“His actual name is—” Sydney began, but two large men walked out front of those of us huddled around the stage, waiting for the meet and greet, silencing her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you will follow us over to the side, the band will re-enter the stage momentarily. We will have you line up by the stairs in an orderly fashion. There is no need to crowd or rush, you will all get individual time with each member,” one spoke, his voice bringing the final hush over the group of the thirty or so of us.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. The way he said that, made me only imagine how many times he’d experienced pandemonium from crazy fangirls who wanted to meet their idols.
Drifting around the T-shaped stage, we all quietly shuffled into a nice line. The front of the group waited by a makeshift set of stairs. I thought it was a pretty cool idea to meet the band on the stage they performed on, rather than in some back room or hallway or something.
Sydney couldn’t contain her excitement as she dug her fingers into my arm.
I placed a hand over hers, feeding off her elation.
Sharing this experience with her brought me joy.
For one night, my life wasn’t dull. Wasn’t monotonous or plain.
For one night, I was living the life my best friend always experienced.
Despite our major differences both in social class and personality, I was blessed that she stuck things out with me.
I grew up poor; she had wealthy parents.
My career was the only reason I could survive; she had plenty of wiggle room to go on adventures because of her trust fund.
I was reserved; she was an extrovert. I lived vicariously through her adventures.
It never bothered me before. But tonight, I was grateful I was actually here and not just hearing about it—no matter how exhausted I would be tomorrow.
Screams shot chills through my arms as the stage lights brightened once more and from the opposite side of the stage, four figures stepped around the black backdrop. I could barely see them as the line went from calm and orderly to slamming into each other. People pushed to get up onto the stage.
Loud shouts from security had the chaos disrupted within just a couple seconds and everyone was back in place.
Before any of us began individual interactions with the band, they answered all different general questions.
How they met, who they were dating, if they were dating anyone, what their likes and dislikes were.
I remained hidden behind Sydney, barely aware of what was going on.
Barely listening. No matter how desperately I fought to forget the singer’s stare, I couldn’t.
Flecks of black amongst brightly flamed amber irises roared over and over in my mind.
Drawing me along that cord twisting tighter around my core.
No matter how hard I fought it, it was still there.
Eventually, the group discussion ended, and it was time for the individual meet and greet.
Slowly, the line began to shuffle forward, voices floating through the air. My small group barely spoke to each other; nervous anticipation sent adrenaline prickling through my veins. Even my heart pounded like a drum in my throat. Something new tapped at the back of my mind.
My stomach churned, twisting knots and nausea through me. I shouldn’t be this anxious, but I was. Maybe I was simply soaking in my friend’s energy as the stairs neared and we were the next in line.
I was the very last of our group when the security asked how many of us were together.
He split us into two sets of four and let the first half of our friends up on the stage.
The minutes seemed to drag by, and I attempted to avoid looking at what was waiting for us.
I was excited to meet them, excited to also find a way home without bringing up this night again.
The hurricane brewing within my soul twisted tightly.
“All right, ladies, you’re up next,” the short but stocky man in front of us said.
He moved to the side and raised a hand up the stairs.
Sweat beaded on my palms, and my body trembled while I followed Sydney, last in line.
Footsteps sounded hollow against the carpeted wood, and then we were on the stage.
Standing in a line were the four members of Void—each one with a polite smile on their face. I could only imagine how exhausted they already were as Tera and Megan shot forward, rushing to meet them first with a squeal.
I cautiously followed until Sydney grabbed my hand and dragged me faster, then stopped in front of the group. Sydney headed straight toward the lead singer as my gaze darted around like the ball in a pinball machine.
“First meet and greet?” a slightly higher-pitched voice asked, startling me. Looking forward, a nervous smile slid across my lips at the band member in front of me. I nodded, my vision blurry and unable to focus on the features of this man.
He extended his hand. “I’m Kieron. Or I guess—”
“The Reaper.” I finished for him, and he chuckled, shaking my hand.
“Relax. We don’t bite. Usually.”
I grimaced and opened my mouth to speak as a hand shot around my arm, cutting me off. Sydney’s fingers ripped me away from Kieron.
“I need a picture with all of them!” she squealed and threw me into her newly vacated spot.
Right in front of the Dark Banshee.