15. Jane
15
JANE
I hate how much I love the way his cologne clings to every inch of this room, like it’s infected by him, and in turn, infecting me. It smells like home and familiarity and comfort but also hurt and tainted memories and the pain of words left unsaid.
On his part; not mine.
I don’t want to inhale deeper when I roll over and my nose hits the pillow at night, but I do. I can’t help it. I’ve never been able to when it comes to him.
This move was the right one for me, but staying under his roof, so close yet so far, is more painful than I anticipated.
I thought I had moved past him. Past us.
Hell, I was with Liam for years and despite the ending to that relationship, there were happy times there. And Nikolai and I had regrown our friendship and I thought that’s all it would ever be.
All it ever could be.
And I was alright with that. I still am.
Right?
But then I remember the warmth of his body, the weight of his hand on my thigh, the comfortable silence we held each other in while sitting on the floor of his booth…
I shake those thoughts from my mind as I smooth my hands over the front of my dress. It’s black and silky, held up by flimsy straps that still manage to keep my chest fairly contained. The hem sits just below the knee, but there’s a small slit on the left side. I paired it with my favorite strappy heels and a red lip.
It’s a little much for just a pop-up show, but I haven’t had an occasion to be able to dress up in a while and I’m taking full advantage of it tonight. I even went and got a blow out, so my hair hangs in large, loose curls around my shoulders.
Nikolai left almost an hour ago. He came to my room and called through the closed door to make sure I didn’t want to catch a ride with him, but I sent him on his way.
It wouldn’t look good if we showed up together when his new song isn’t the only new thing he’s debuting tonight.
Bitterness coats my tongue at the thought of him being in a relationship with Kerra, even if it is purely for PR. Part of me wants to shuck off the dress and climb into bed, blissfully ignoring the performance I’m in for tonight.
But he deserves to have someone there supporting him, and it’s the least I can do with him letting me stay here and getting me connected with Arun.
I check my purse to make sure I have everything I need and make my way downstairs. Grabbing a set of keys off a hook, I head to the garage, prepared to drive one of Nikolai’s cars. But when I step into the room, the driver that accompanied Nikolai at the airport stands waiting.
“Hendrik, right?”
The large man nods once. “Miss Walker.”
“You can call me Jane, please.”
“Jane,” he repeats softly. “I’ll take you to the show.”
I wave him off. “I don’t mind driving myself.”
“I insist.”
“You insist, or Nikolai does?”
Hendrik’s mouth smooths into a thin line and I toss the keys on a workbench. I’m not going to argue with him. Back home, I don’t even own a car, so my driving skills are rusty at best.
It’s a quiet ride as we weave our way through the heavy traffic of downtown LA.
We pull up outside the venue. It’s an old restaurant that was converted into a club years ago. People mill around outside, all being blocked from entering by a large security team.
Details about the show were on a need-to-know basis and the invite list was strict, but clearly, that didn’t stop some die-hard fans from figuring out where it was taking place. As Hendrik pulls up around the side of the building, I spot multiple fans in Whisper Me Nothings T-shirts and it sends a pang of sorrow through me.
After being verified by security and assured by Hendrik that he’d be waiting to take me home after the show, I slip inside. The room is bathed in the glow of neon lights shining from above and various signs on the wall. Splashes of pinks, purple, and blue are imbued in the decor, giving it a pop-style vibe.
Perfect for the new style of music Nikolai is transitioning into.
A small stage sits at the end of the room with a small crowd already gathered in front. However, most people are milling about, talking, drinking, and taking pictures.
No one seems to be paying me much attention, but I still can’t help but feel like everyone’s eyes are on me, picking me apart. Being surrounded by so many young, thin, beautiful women brings familiar insecurities crawling up my throat. It’s the middle of July, so there’s no valid reason for me to bring a jacket everywhere with me, but I suddenly long for it.
A server passes with a tray of colorful cocktails, and I snatch one off, needing something to hold and do with my hands. The drink is sweet, and I have to resist throwing back the entire thing.
By the time the lights dim and people filter toward the stage, I’m almost done with my second glass, and a nice buzz hums in my veins. Just enough to quiet the voices in my head.
A warm hand grabs my arm, and I spin, surprised to see Arun.
He leans in and says, “We have a spot off to the side of the stage.”
I nod and follow him to a small, roped off section with a few people I recognize from his team, as well as some other artists he works with as well. We exchange smiles and small nods, but that’s it for the pleasantries as an opening DJ takes the stage.
It’s a quick set but it does the trick to get the crowd loosened up a bit and to make the introductions for Nikolai and Kerra.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I see his golden head of hair step onstage. I’m nervous for him and I’ve been trying to hide that from him the past few days. He’s been anxious enough on his own and I haven’t wanted to add to that, but I’m also scared for him.
I just want this to go well for him.
But as soon as he looks out toward the crowd with that familiar confidence he wears onstage and glint in his blue eyes that match the color of his shirt, I know I have nothing to worry about.
He grabs one of the mics in his large hand and scans the room, smiling as he does so. “Everyone ready to hear some new music?”
The crowd screams their excitement as they look at him like he hung the moon and stars. Without even singing the first note, they’re already hanging onto his every word. Born to be onstage and captivate crowds. Kerra grabs her own mic, further rallying the crowd.
Her outfit perfectly complements Nikolai’s look. She’s in a white, skin-tight dress with multiple cut-outs to show off pops of skin. Her platform boots have silver hardware that matches the rings and watch that Nikolai wears, and to top it off, she has a baby blue bow at the back of her head with her short hair styled half up, half down.
Her makeup is even lighter than it usually is and it’s obvious she’s taking this rebrand seriously.
They look good together, like a perfect, aesthetically appealing couple. Like they make sense together. Two artists, two talented singers, two beautiful people.
My gut churns and a bitter taste clogs the back of my throat.
Nikolai’s eyes dance across the crowd and he frowns slightly as the track begins to thump throughout the venue. What’s suddenly unnerving him?
When he looks to the side of the stage where Arun and I stand, his entire face relaxes and that lazy smile of his tilts the corner of his mouth as we lock eyes.
Everything stops for a moment as we stare at each other like we’ve done so many times before.
When we were eighteen at shows in our hometown bars.
When I visited on tour last year and our newfound friendship was getting back on track.
A moment in time, shared just between the two of us, with years of familiarity and laughter and comfort all at once. The music becomes a distant murmur, the crowd becomes a blur, and the air grows taut until my vision is tunneled in on him.
I give the smallest of nods to him. A silent, You got this. He nods knowingly and with one final sweep of my entire body that sets all of my nerve endings on fire, he pulls his gaze away just in time to sing the opening lyrics of the song.
His words have a physical effect on me as he croons into the microphone. The smallest hint of rasp, the smooth and elegant way he delivers each note, the emotion he weaves in. My heart skips a beat and unlocks a sense of euphoria that can only be experienced with live music.
I hold my hands to my chest to contain my racing heart as I watch him perform like he was born to do. He moves around the stage effortlessly. The crowd follows his every move subconsciously, like they’re under his spell. As he reaches the chorus, he leans over slightly, belting out the words I’ve overheard him singing in the shower for weeks now and I think I liked them even better then because it was a private performance for my ears only.
If there is a God, He picked favorites when it comes to gifting Nikolai both his looks and his talent. The least He could’ve done is give him a shit personality or make him ugly on the inside.
When the second verse begins, Kerra starts her part of the song. The crowd shifts their attention to her as Nikolai takes a few steps back from the front of the stage as she takes his spot.
Her voice is pure, sugary pop but it fits the song well. And when the chorus comes around and Nikolai joins in, the two of them blend together like cotton candy colors swirling in the evening sky.
Arun huffs out a laugh. “They sound great together, don’t they?”
I nod silently as Nikolai and Kerra now face each other as they sing the final lyrics of the song with locked gazes that feel far more intimate than the rest of the performance.
My breath gets lodged in my throat as I watch her watch him the same way I used to. Maybe the way I still do.
It’s all an act. It’s all an act.
They have a job to do.
But it doesn’t put a bandage on the opening slice that sears down my chest when Nikolai tucks a single lock of Kerra’s hair behind her ear as they sing out the final notes. He smiles at her as their voices fade out and she steps closer to him until barely any light from the stage lights seeps between their bodies.
The crowd explodes into cheers and applause, but it all fades to a dull roar as the two of them share this moment together.
A moment they’d have to repeat over and over again as they promote this song. It’s only going to ramp up even more as they debut their fake relationship.
If it’ll even stay fake…
As much as I’ll never be able to forget the late-night bike rides, the reassurances whispered in my ear when I tried to hide myself in a crowded room, and the selflessness that he’s shown my brother and his friends over the years, I’ll also never be able to forget the pain of losing Nikolai the first time.
I won’t survive it a second time.
Nikolai Brooks has never been and will never be a bad person.
But he’s not my person anymore.
And I have to let him go.