20. Darius
The evening of the concert has arrived, and we’re all backstage.
Well, all of us except Laney.
The familiar rumble of the audience waiting for me to step out on stage is too loud.
Shouldn’t they have quietened down by now?
Everyone is too excited, seeing the newly famous Darius Riviera.
Before, I was just a man who played the violin well.
Now, I’m the man who survived a plane crash and a month in the wilderness.
Is that why these people want to see me?
They might not even care about the music.
I feel like a caged animal in the zoo, pacing back and forth, while all the visitors peer in and expect me to perform.
Cade is nearby. I sense the tension radiating from him. I want to snap at him, ask him what the fuck he’s got to be nervous about. He’s not the one going out there.
I miss my old violin. My new violin feels all wrong in my grip, though it’s an exact copy of the one Smith smashed to pieces in the cabin.
I can tell it’s not the real one, though, and I haven’t even been able to bring myself to practice on it.
I haven’t played in over a month, and yet here I am, about to play for an audience once more.
This is what I love. This is what I do. This is who I am.
There’s only one person I wish I was playing for, and she’s not here.
I told her I wouldn’t play again until we were back in civilization, back in safety.
Now we should be safe, but why don’t I feel like I am?
My whole body remains primed for flight or fight, as though I’m expecting to come face to face with Smith and his men at any moment.
I know some shrink would say I’m suffering from PTSD, but I feel like a complete fraud even considering that I might be traumatized.
I wasn’t the one who went through the worst of it.
Cade was unconscious for days, Reed almost drowned, and as for Laney…
Well, we know what she went through. By comparison, I came out of things unscathed.
I turn my thoughts back to the concert.
Every seat in the house is full, and black-market tickets were being sold online for eyewatering amounts. It all seems crazy to me. I’m exactly the same musician I was before the crash.
Or am I?
I try to conjure up the persona I use onstage. I’m bare-chested, my long hair hanging free. I assume I must look like the same man, though possibly a little more cut now than I was before because of the weight loss, but I feel completely different. My confidence has all but evaporated.
Earlier, Cade walked me through the stage, making sure I knew the exact dimensions of my surroundings.
Normally, once I know the space of a room, I have it committed to mind, but for some reason, I’m struggling to picture it today.
When I’m able to conjure an image of the stage in my head, I doubt myself.
Is it the same stage Cade showed me around earlier, or have I gotten the picture in my mind mixed up with a different one I’ve played on?
An orchestra is in the pit in front of the stage. Any minute now, the first notes will be played, my signal to walk out. I’m not used to feeling nervous—I’d normally channel any residing anxiousness into confidence—but this time I am.
“You okay?” Cade asks from beside me, his voice low.
“Yeah, fine,” I snap, though my palms have prickled with sweat, and my heart seems to be beating too hard.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“Leave me the fuck alone, Cade.”
“All right, bro. Chill the fuck out.”
“You’re not the one about to play to hundreds of people, are you?”
I sense him take a step back.
“Okay,” he says, “okay.”
Maybe this was a bad idea. When Reed came to me saying the concert hall had cleared a night for me to do a comeback concert, Cade had warned me it might be too soon. I’d wanted it, though.
I’d needed it.
How else was I going to stop torturing myself with thoughts of what had happened at the cabin?
I couldn’t get the thought of those assholes raping Laney out of my head.
She’d said Smith had fucked her with a gun.
I replay that image over and over, growing more and more furious each time.
What if it had gone off? It would have blown her insides out.
The gun isn’t even the worst part—at least not for me.
A gun is an inanimate object. It isn’t hard flesh, and hot skin, and beating blood.
That’s the thing that eats me up the most. The thought of that filthy bastard, Axel, pushing his cock inside Laney’s pussy, touching her skin, putting his mouth on her.
And I hate that this is what plays over and over in my mind, that he invaded her most personal and secret place like that, a place that should only ever have been ours.
She was only ever ours, and he took that from us.
It reminds me of Cade’s reaction. How he thought of himself. I’ve always thought of myself as being a better man than Cade. Maybe that’s wrong of me, but he has always been the fuckup. I’ve bailed him out more times than I can remember.
Now I’m starting to realize the two of us aren’t that different. We both want what’s ours because her not being ours hurts us. Maybe it’s fucking pride, but it makes me feel as though I can’t breathe when I think about it.
I wish Laney was here right now. Her being away from us sends my mind spinning.
If I could reach out and touch her, I know I’d be able to think again.
I remember when I was stranded on the other side of the river, how I’d felt like I couldn’t take another step without her by my side. That’s how I feel now. I need her here.
Except she’s busy, trying to get her own life back on track.
The orchestra is repeating the arrangement I’m supposed to walk out on. I should be making my appearance now, violin held high as I strut on stage.
Cade’s hand finds the spot between my shoulder blades, and he gives me a little push. “Get out there, man.”
It’s all I can do not to turn and swing my bow across his head.
I don’t want to do this, but what choice do I have?
If I thought I couldn’t do it, I should have said no when Reed asked me.
It’s too late now. Everyone is waiting for me.
Hundreds of people, plus all the critics who will no doubt be looking forward to ripping me to shreds in tomorrow’s newspaper and magazines and online articles.
I need to give them what they came for.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stride out on stage. My legs are weaker than I’d have liked, but I force them to move. I sense the change in atmosphere as I step into the open. The audience erupts into applause, and I haven’t even done anything yet.
I used to love this. It was what I lived for. Why is it that now all I want is to turn and bolt?
I try to picture Laney’s face in the crowd.
The only way I’ve ever ‘seen’ her is through touch, but it’s enough for me to create a picture of her in my mind.
The long eyelashes, the full lips, her endless limbs and soft skin.
But instead of being reassured by the thought of her, all I can focus on is that she’s not here.
Her absence is like a giant black hole in front of me that draws me in, and I fear I might fall down it.
Will the music help? The orchestra is playing, and I can tell by their hesitation, and the notes they play that they can tell something is wrong.
I haven’t come in where I’m supposed to and they’re having to repeat themselves again.
Fuck. I need to do this. The audience has fallen silent, they’re waiting, uneasy, growing uncomfortable.
I sense Cade in the wings. Reed, too. I should have told Reed it was too soon, that I couldn’t do this.
I position the violin under my chin and lift the bow. The first note I play doesn’t feel right.
My mind goes blank. My hand stalls. I have no idea what comes next.
The orchestra continues, but I’m no longer playing. Murmurs of confusion rise from the audience.
From the wings, Cade hisses my name. “Dax, what’s wrong?”
I take a breath and try to play another note, but it comes out all wrong. It’s as though I’ve completely forgotten how to play. I’m a novice again.
The concert hall feels like it’s spinning around me, the stage tilting beneath my feet.
I’m suddenly completely disoriented. I need to get off, but I have no idea which way to go to reach the privacy of the wings.
I’m terrified that if I take steps in the wrong direction, the stage will vanish and I’ll end up in the pit, on top of the orchestra.
Then Reed is by my side. His hand on my back.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” he announces. “Darius has been taken unwell.”
He guides me offstage. We reach the wings, and I double over. A hot rush of nausea hits me, cold sweat breaking out across my body. I can’t control myself. I vomit onto the floor.
Cade’s voice. “Fucking hell.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I’ve let everyone down.
“Let’s get you out of here.” Reed’s hand is on my shoulder. “Maybe you’ve picked up a bug or something.”
I might be an adult, but I’m grateful to have my father with me now. I cling to his arm as he guides me away from the hundreds of people all wondering what the hell just happened.
I find myself thinking exactly the same thing.