Chapter 12 Riot
Riot
I stare into the narrowed ice-blue eyes of my manager, my blood still boiling with rage due to his untimely interruption.
“Why the fuck didn’t you just call me?” I demand.
“I tried. Multiple times.” He holds up his device, showcasing the many attempted calls.
Then he notices Eloise standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Oh. Sorry. I wasn’t aware Riot was still teaching.
” He shoots me a look out of the corner of his eye, the gears in his head spinning.
Probably wondering why I never told him about Eloise’s lessons.
And honestly, I don’t have an explanation.
Maybe it’s because she’s been acting with such secrecy, and some part of me thought it would be best not to tell anyone about our weekly meetings. Or perhaps I selfishly wanted an hour for just us two—one where we no longer have to answer to anyone or anything.
But none of that matters. Enzo is here now.
“What do you need to talk to me about so desperately?” I ask, pulling his attention back to me once more. “You charged in here like it couldn’t wait a single second more.”
“Excuse me for having manners.” Enzo’s scowl deepens before he lets out a tired sigh. “It’s a… private conversation. It’s about something serious.”
Yuck. “Oh. In that case, I’m not interested.”
“Riot…”
“Enzo…”
He stands there and glowers, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. Not willing to back down.
Sensing the mounting tension, Eloise gathers her things and takes a cautious step toward the exit. “I, uh… should probably get going now, anyway. It was good to meet you, Enzo.”
“You as well, miss.”
With an apologetic glance, Eloise scurries out of the shop, mumbling something about texting me later for the “tea.” As soon as the door closes, Enzo turns to me with a raised brow, his blue eyes swirling with a myriad of questions.
“So… you gonna tell me why you’ve been hanging out with Eloise Marquette?”
I frown. “Why is it that everyone but me seems to know exactly who she is on sight?”
“It’s not surprising. You’ve been looking at the bottom of a bottle for the past three years. It's kind of hard to notice anything else through that tiny view-hole.”
“Ha. You said hole.”
Enzo just scowls. “Enough bullshit. If you don’t want to talk about Eloise, then at least answer for this.
” Enzo thrusts a tabloid in my face, but I don’t bother to look at it or even read the title.
“What in the fuck were you doing in Neon Valley last week?” Enzo demands.
“You’re supposed to be here, in Saltbloom, not screwing up your life. ”
I hold my hands up in defense. “Relax, Enzo. It was super innocent. I just went to see a concert in the city. Nothing more.”
“Uh-huh. So tell me, Riot, do I look like an idiot to you?”
“I’m not sure what you mean…”
“Do I look stupid? Simple? A brain cell shy of a firefly flickering at noon?”
I raise a brow, wondering where this is going. “No…?”
Enzo stares me down with that unwavering icy-blue gaze. “Really? Then why are you treating me like I am?”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mea—”
“You got fucking trashed at a karaoke bar and led the paparazzi on a wild chase through the city! That’s what I mean!”
I lean back, crossing my arms defensively. “Okay, well that was kind of a long-winded way to get to that.”
“Oh my God… You are impossible! Absolutely fucking useless!”
“Now you’ve hurt my feelings,” I deadpan.
The vein throbbing at Enzo’s temple looks like it’s going to explode if I say one more word, so I don’t. After a few calming breaths, Enzo tries to reach me once more. “Why did you do it? Tell me that at least, and I’ll drop everything else.”
I shrug. “I had to get out of there.”
Enzo sighs. “Somehow, knowing your reasoning makes it worse.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tightly as he whispers, “I do not get paid enough for this…”
“I heard that.”
“Perhaps you were meant to.” He raises his head, fixing me with a disapproving stare. “You’ve left me with an ocean-full of shit to deal with.” He wags the tabloid in my face. “Go on. Read it.”
“Can’t you just give me the CliffsNotes?”
“Read. It.”
I scowl, but still take the magazine from his grip, thumbing to the page where the article is located.
SICK! Riot Arden Pukes, Leads Pap on Wild Chase Through City!
Riot Arden is back at it with his WILD and MESSY escapades! After taking a brief hiatus from his debaucherous lifestyle (Gee, I wonder where he’s been… Can anyone say REHAB?!) Riot Arden is back in Neon Valley and causing CHAOS!
Riot Arden was spotted singing karaoke at the Midnight Pearl Bar and Lounge, sounding a little worse for wear. (We forgive him—I mean, have you seen those ABS?)
All was semi-tame until our insider walked up to Riot at the bar, wanting to have a nice friendly chat. If only she knew situations involving Riot never are!!
One look at her face and Riot spewed—literally—all over her and the bar. Embarrassed, Riot fled the scene, taking the paparazzi on a wild chase through the city!
Riot was last spotted getting into a cab and hasn’t been seen since. No one knows where Arden is now, but we at ZZ Insider sincerely hope it’s somewhere he can’t puke on anyone else.
“This is just the tip of the iceberg,” Enzo grumbles. “Rebekah was so pissed she went to the tabloids with a bullshit story. She’s claiming that you’re the reason Rush died that night. That you knew he needed help and didn’t call anyone until it was too late.”
White-hot pain flares in my chest, and I struggle against the need to double over and empty the contents of my stomach. “She what?”
Enzo nods sympathetically. “I’m working to get the article taken down as we speak. But unfortunately, it’s already been spread through the mainstream media outlets.”
My vision blurs, the room threatening to shift out from under me. “How… why… why is this happening, Enzo? How could she…? How could they…?”
Enzo steps closer, placing his hand on my shoulder in a comforting gesture, all his earlier irritation replaced with concern. “It means nothing, Riot. We’ll get it taken down, they’ll apologize, and everything will go back to the way it was.”
“No, it won’t.” I pull away from Enzo and storm onto the balcony, placing a cigarette between my lips with shaking hands.
I can’t seem to take a deep breath no matter how hard I try, and though my body screams for it, I decide it’s better to replace every last bit of oxygen in my lungs with smoke.
Maybe then I’ll pass out and won’t have to be present for the current fucked-up state of the world.
“Riot… I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I turn to Enzo, a frown pinching my forehead. “You didn’t write the damn article. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I could have broken the news to you softer.” He steps out onto the balcony, taking a place next to me by the railing.
“It was callous of me to just drop the news on you the way I did. I was angry about it myself, and I know that impacted the situation. I wasn’t thinking clearly. For that, I’m sorry.”
I wave him off. “It’s okay, Enz. I know you’re just looking out for me.” Finally, I turn to look at him. “I think I’ll head to the hotel, if that’s alright. I’m… I think I need to lie down for a bit.”
“I understand.” Enzo reaches out, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’ll take care of it, Riot. I promise you that.”
“I know. You always do.”
I step through the door into my hotel suite, finding the silence stifling. Tonight, the room seems especially empty, and it does nothing for the dark thoughts clouding my mind.
I grab my bottle of whiskey from the nightstand and take several long swigs while I kick off my boots. Too tired to undress further, I flop back onto the mattress, careful not to spill any precious liquid as I look up at the ceiling, drawing pictures with my mind.
What a fucking day.
My fingers itch for my phone, and after a couple more mouthfuls, I’m unable to deny the call. With the bottle in one hand, I raise my phone above my face with the other, the blinding light blurring my vision.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m clicking on Rush’s contact and typing out a message. One I know he will never receive.
I miss you.
I stare at the screen for a moment, fooling myself that my brother isn’t gone and he’ll respond. But like every text I've sent for the past three years, it’s gone unanswered.
I don’t know why I keep doing this. It never helps.
With a deep sigh, I lower my phone to my side, a deep pressure building behind my eyes. I hate how grief lives inside me. How it hibernates, coiled in the darkest parts of my heart, ready to rear its head and strike. How it aches just as deeply as the first day, and then not at all.
And in its absence, that awful numbness sets in. It creeps over my skin and coils icy fingers around my heart, a wall of protection and a prison of loneliness. I don’t know how much longer I can keep living like this—how much longer I want to.
The room spirals, the shadows grow, and my mind is filled with darkened clouds of misery. That is, until my phone buzzes.
As soon as I see Eloise’s name on my screen, it’s like the sun has come out. There’s nowhere for the shadows to run, nowhere for them to escape the blazing light. All at once, a calm settles over my mind, wicking away the cobwebs and wrapping me in a warm blanket of safety.
Eloise. Sweet, beautiful Eloise.
I open the message, and my grin threatens to split my face in two.
On the screen is a picture of a T-rex roaring up at a fiery, asteroid-filled sky.
Under the dinosaur in bold white lettering is the phrase “Guitar is essential to life. Take it from the Dinosaurs—they didn’t have guitars, and look what happened to them! ”
Saw this and thought of you.
To my surprise, a chuckle pushes past my lips. It’s so ridiculous, so fucking silly. And that makes me love it all the more. I was so worried Eloise would pull away after our near kiss in the shop earlier, but if she’s thinking about me, that has to be a good sign.
I quickly go online, snag a screenshot, and send it to her. It’s a picture of a sunset—beautiful and vibrant, with hues of purple and orange and gold strewn throughout.
This makes me think of you.
Bubbles appear, then disappear, then appear again before dissolving one last time. After a minute of waiting, my phone finally buzzes with a text.
Wanna talk about what happened earlier at Hightide…?
My heart pounds frantically against my rib cage. She wants to talk about the almost kiss? What should I say? I wish we hadn’t been interrupted? Want to come over and sit on my face?
I settle on something far more bland when she sends something else through.
Your manager seemed pretty upset.
Oh.
My heart falls into my stomach. Of course she’s not referring to the almost kiss. She wants to talk about Enzo. Enzo motherfucking cockblock Miller.
It was nothing. Just some stupid tabloid article about me. I’m used to it.
Your manager didn’t seem to think it was nothing.
Enzo has a tendency to be dramatic. And I give him plenty of opportunities to be.
Well, I’m really glad it wasn’t anything bad.
I was worried about you.
That simple message makes my heart stutter. There are so many things I want to say to her, too many things I need to get off my chest. I can’t say any of them, though, so I go with:
I’m looking forward to our lesson next week. Looking forward to seeing you.
Me too <3
I close my phone, keeping it on the pillow beside mine in case she needs me again in the middle of the night. Despite how upset I was earlier, I’m slightly at peace after talking to Eloise, and for once, it feels like I can fall asleep without being absolutely trashed.
It takes me some time, but when I finally drift to sleep, my dreams are filled with visions of the sky, a soaring white gull, and a girl with hair the color of a shining pink sunrise.