Chapter 7
Seven
HAZEL
Jade asked if she could come with me to sign books this afternoon.
She’s incredibly helpful to have around because she took excellent photos of me and suggested ideas for social media content.
We had fun running around the bookstore for a few hours doing that.
Her creative mind and eye for aesthetics is unmatched.
She mentioned the band wanting to assign security to me during concerts if I was going to be out in the audience.
My knee-jerk reaction was to say no, but then I really thought about it.
I’ve been to concerts before, but none were what I’d describe as a rock concert.
I’m not entirely sure what to expect from theirs.
Now that I’m back at the hotel, I’m staring at the clothing options I have, trying to figure out what to put on.
We have to get on the tour bus right after the performance, so I’m also packing.
I’ve never been happier for Sierra’s help shopping though, because she did ensure most of my clothes would work with multiple other pieces, giving me perfect mix and match options.
I decide on a pair of dark wash jeans and a black lace top over a black bralette.
The lace does a good enough job of covering the dark scars on my forearms and those hidden just below my breasts.
I pull a sleeve up and run my finger over the scar, a permanent reminder of the darkness that lives within me.
I pull my calendar app up on my phone and count the days since I last cut myself. Three hundred and thirty-three days. I haven’t made it a year since I started doing this to myself when I was eleven.
It started as a way to punish myself after my dad left us but soon morphed into a way to purge myself.
His angry words blaming me for being the reason he left echoed in my mind for weeks until I picked up my mom’s razor and dragged it across my flesh.
Watching the blood seep from the cut on my leg felt euphoric.
As fucked up as it is to say, nothing gives me the same type of high.
There’s a release to it that I can’t explain. All the emotions and thoughts I keep locked up tight inside me rush out on the wave of blood from my skin. It’s the only way I’ve found to let the darkness out.
I wish I wasn’t like this. I know that every time my mom sees me, she scans whatever part of my exposed skin she can to look for evidence of self-harm.
It makes me hate myself to see that concern etched so deeply into her face.
I can’t help but occasionally wonder if my dad was right. I do ruin everything.
The sound of doors opening and closing in the hallway pulls me from my thoughts. I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror. Those thoughts are easy to shake off. The sound of the television gives me something to focus on aside from the dark train of thoughts that threatened to swamp me.
A knock at the door pulls my attention from packing.
I open it to see Darren standing there in a suit. He’s got one hand tucked in his pocket and his phone in the other hand.
“Hey,” I greet him.
“Hi.” His eyes scan me briefly before meeting my eyes. “We’re heading out for sound check. I wanted to give you my number in case you need anything. My phone is always on me, so I’ll be easy to reach.”
“Oh, great.” I take his phone and enter my contact information.
He takes it back. “Dan will be assigned as your security for concerts. He’ll be by to get you to the concert and organize getting your belongings to the bus. Anything else, don’t hesitate to reach out to me.”
“Thank you.”
He gives me a handsome smile and nod before walking off down the hall. I peek at his retreating back and see the guys and Jade waiting for him. Tobias has drumsticks tucked into his back pocket. Both Xander and Stone are carrying guitar cases.
I return Jade’s wave and then retreat back into my room before anyone else sees me.
The lights go down, and the cheers raise in volume as the second opening band exits the stage.
The opening bars of one of Blue Sunday’s most popular songs begins as Xander steps out onto the stage playing.
Next a spotlight shines on Tobias sitting shirtless behind his drum set.
The cheers morph into screams as Stone joins the other two, walking out with his guitar and a cocky smirk I’ve never seen on his face before.
As they begin to play, I fall under their spell.
Tears well in my eyes as emotion floods me.
And this is why I don’t go to concerts often.
I will spend the first twenty minutes unable to stop the flow of tears.
It’s always been like this for me, I just can’t stop imagining how hard they worked to get to this point.
Thank fuck Dan is standing behind me, so he doesn’t see the tears streaming down my face. This is mortifying, and I can’t stop it. I stand in the shadows absorbing every lyric, every melody, into my bloodstream.
One of the cameras zooms in on Stone as he sings, and goosebumps race along my skin.
The charisma and charm practically ooze from him as he sings through that ever-present smirk.
He winks at the camera, and it should make me cringe, but it has the opposite effect.
I’m clearly not alone as a wave of feminine screams rolls through the crowd.
He turns and walks back to Tobias. The two of them play off each other with the type of joyful freedom I’ve always been envious of. The confidence they have naturally is magnified by the stage, and it’s beautiful to witness.
I swipe at the irritating flow of tears from my eyes.
The makeup I spent so much time applying is likely smeared all over my face.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and when I pull it out, I see Greg calling.
I decline the call with a message telling him I’m at the concert and can’t talk before slipping it back into the same pocket.
I feel it vibrate again, but after what he said to me the other night, he can wait.
Luckily the interruption causes the tears to finally stop flowing. I’m watching from an empty, darkened luxury box and happy to stay here the entire concert. Now that I have my emotions back in control, I look back to Dan.
He’s an attractive guy. Probably around six feet tall and hugely muscled. He stands beside the door with his arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes scanning the space around us as if someone is going to jump out at me from the shadows.
“Come watch with me.” I motion toward the stage with my head.
He shakes his head. “Standing here is best for security purposes.”
“No one is coming for me. They don’t even know who I am or that I’m in here.” I take a few steps back and wrap my hand around his granite biceps.
He doesn’t budge. Even pulling with all my strength.
“Please.” I give him the look my mom always calls puppy dog eyes. “I’m not a target for anything. They just assigned you to me in case I get caught in a crowd or something. As you can probably tell, I won’t be venturing into a mosh pit at any point. Just stand beside me, so I don’t feel so weird.”
He rolls his shoulder but moves toward me. He positions himself with his back to the wall, so he’s actually facing me but has a clear line of sight on the door as well. It’s better than him standing behind me, but if he’s going to be my shadow at every concert, I want to get to know him.
“Do you like their music?” I ask.
“Everyone likes Blue Sunday.”
My lips quirk up. “Not everyone.”
“You don’t?” he asks, his shoulders loosening a bit.
“No, I do. The songs I’ve heard at least. I’m not a huge fan, though.”
He nods, and that’s the end of the conversation. I’m okay with it. At least we’ve opened a dialogue. I can’t have someone following me around without being on speaking terms. It’s too weird.
The rest of the concert is incredible. I knew they were amazing musicians, but seeing that talent showcased with their performance puts them into a new focus for me.
I wasn’t sure whether I’d want to go to more than a couple concerts, but now I want to experience the music and show from every imaginable part of the venues.
In the crowd. Near the pit. Maybe even someday from backstage, if I can manage to get my tears under control.
Dan herds me toward the exit several songs before the end of the show.
I don’t particularly want to get stuck in the ruckus of the crowd while they file out of the venue, so I allow him to guide me along the mezzanine toward the backstage area.
We pass venue security, and Dan relaxes the tiniest bit.
We take an elevator down to ground level and exit out a large loading door. Roadies mill around already beginning to load up a semi full of equipment. He leads me to an all-black bus with deeply tinted windows.
“Your overnight bag is inside on your bunk, the other luggage is below. I’ll stay out here until the band is on the bus and we’re ready to leave. You can go on up and get settled before they come out.”
“Thank you, Dan. Have a good night.”
He gives me a brief smile and nod but then returns to his security pose at the steps to the bus.
The interior of the bus catches me off guard; it’s so luxurious yet homey. One side of the front room holds a long leather couch with a small dining table and two benches. Beyond the table is what appears to be a small coffee bar with one of those pod coffee pots and a sleeve of paper cups.