2. Melody
2
MELODY
G etting to this school has been nothing short of a nightmare. After two missed flights and a frightening Uber that took me deep into the woods of Vermont while they tested the limits of my sanity— I’ve finally made it. Weary and worse for the wear, but I’m here in one piece, despite the efforts of that Uber driver who probably shouldn’t have a license. I tug on my luggage, intent on finding my room as quickly as possible. The only problem is that I’m supposed to meet someone I only have a vague notion of where to find. My new stepdad gave me my stepbrother’s name and dorm building, and that’s all. He hung up on me before I could ask anything further. Too busy enjoying that spontaneous honeymoon with my money hungry mother. It’s the first and only time I’ve even talked to the guy, and so far his impression is memorable, in the worst way.
It’s fine. It’ll be fine. I’m an adult and can find my way around a college campus. Even if it is big and I only briefly studied the map on the way here. I’ve been too preoccupied by feeling utterly shell shocked at the prospect of coming here. Just last week I was wiping down dirty tables in a bar trying to convince the owner to let me on stage, and now I’m about to attend one of the world’s best schools. Talk about whiplash.
My mom worked her charm on her new husband, and quicker than their surprise wedding, I found myself with bags packed and an acceptance from a school that over a month ago I couldn’t have ever imagined attending. My life has changed in the blink of an eye. And it’s even more apparent now as I stood outside the imposing brick building that looms in front of me. My new uniform clings to my curves like a second skin, doing nothing to shield me from the cold. I’d changed in the airport bathroom, trying my best to smooth away the rumpled look that all the travel gifted me with.
Langford School of the Arts is world renowned. Reserved for the most talented and rich amongst the population, it specializes in theater, music, and art. They’ve built a reputation that is as snobby and pretentious as their patrons. I guess that includes me now, though.
I steel my nerves and face this new opportunity head on no matter how badly my stomach churns at the thought of it. I make myself move forward, luggage in tow. The wheels rumble over the cobblestone pulling focus of the students milling about the quad. I can feel their eyes on me. Assessing. Judging. Wondering what the hell I’m doing here. There’s a group of them huddled together singing Billie Eilish in acapella while several others look on at their impromptu performance.
School’s been in session for an entire semester already and is a few weeks past the second semester’s start date. Joining late like I am puts me at a huge disadvantage. I’ll have to work twice as hard, but I’m not afraid of hard work. I’m more than capable of paying my dues, even if my new stepdad is footing the bill for me to be here, I know that I deserve this chance. And I plan to make the best of it.
“Can I help you?” A blonde girl with bangs framing her face asks while twirling a manicured nail around her flawless curls. Looking at how put together she seems—I can’t help but feel out of place. I pull at the end of my skirt, hyperaware of my frazzled looking appearance.
“Yeah, do you happen to know where I could find Chase Milford? I’m supposed to meet him.”
I don’t miss the way her green eyes widen in surprise before fixing me with a chilling glare.
“Why do you need to meet him?” Her helpful demeanor completely melts away, and I’m feeling like she has some history with this Chase. Perfect.
“Uh- he’s supposed to show me to my new room.”
I shift uncomfortably on my feet feeling the intensity of her glare quadruple. Leave it to me to make an enemy on day fucking one.
“Carla, can you show this lost student to Chase’s room? You remember where that’s at right?” The blonde says in a sugary sweet tone to another girl who’s just stopped mid-step. There’s an undertone of maliciousness that I’m all too familiar with, having grown up with my mother.
It’s clear I’ve unwittingly stepped into something here. The second girl’s shoulders tense and she flicks her dark eyes over me as her long black hair swooshes with the subtle movement.
“Why don’t you take her yourself. You’ve been there enough times, Jenna.”
My eyes bounce from girl to girl feeling the crackling energy between the two of them. It’s almost comical that they’re this bent out of shape over a guy. There are literally millions of them in the world, and none that I’ve met have been worth treating another woman like shit for.
I start to back up arms raised in surrender trying to extract myself from the awkward encounter, when I bump into a wall of muscle.
Strong hands grip around my arms to stop me from toppling over and a wave of embarrassment hits me square in the chest, as red splotches climb up my face. Clearly, I’m off to a spectacular start at my new school.
“You good?” A deep sounding voice asks, still holding onto me like I’ll fall without his help. I pull myself aways as gracefully as I can muster and turn around to face the voice.
A man with a chiseled jawline peppered with a neatly trimmed beard looks down at me with stunning hazel eyes. I swallow hard feeling the embarrassment heighten. “Y-yes. I’m fine.”
He assesses me, adjusting a sling backpack over his shoulder. A mop of brown hair swoops lazily across his furrowed brow, looking like he’s just stepped out of a magazine.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find Chase Milford would you?”
His expression takes on a stormy look and his mouth forms a hard line.
“What do you need with Chase?” I’m beginning to understand that my new stepbrother has quite the reputation at this place. Something that might have been helpful to know beforehand, but my mom and her new husband couldn’t be bothered to give me many details.
“I’m supposed to find him. That’s all.”
His eyes narrow on me and I feel like I’m being picked apart underneath his stare. I shift uncomfortably. All I want to do is rest before I start my classes tomorrow.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll take you to him.”
Relief floods me. “Thank you. My name’s Melody,” I say flashing him a smile.
“Liam,” he says curtly. His demeanor, just like that Jenna girl, has shifted, like he’s wary of me for some reason. I can’t help but wonder what the hell is up with this Chase guy that has everyone acting so odd.
Jenna and Carla are locked in a heated exchange as we pass by, and I catch the word ‘slut’ being thrown around. I roll my eyes. Some girls like to pit themselves against other girls like they’re in some competition. I have no interest in participating in that nonsense. They look seconds away from pulling at each other’s hair. Pathetic.
Liam catches my reaction, and something flickers across his face too quickly for me to decipher. “It’s this way,” he says. Liam takes me into the building and up a flight of stairs. He grabs my luggage from me after I protest, but secretly, I’m glad not to be carrying it myself. I’m tired and can’t wait to collapse on a bed. A long hallway emerges with doors on either side. Dim lights line the walls giving the enclosed space an eerie glow. It smells faintly of weed and stale beer. Lovely.
As we walk together, he looks over at me, hair falling across his brow in an effortless way that has me wanting to push it off his face. He’s cute.
“So, you just starting here?”
“Yeah. My mom married Chase’s dad and pulled some strings to get me in.”
Liam’s dark eyebrows shoot up. “So, you’re Chase’s new stepsister?”
“Guess so.”
That acknowledgement seems to shift something in him. “Well, just be careful with Chase. He’s known to have a temper.”
I file that information away as he brings us to a halt outside of room 222. I can hear the faint sounds of music filtering through the closed door.
It’s not the typical rap that I’ve come to expect from guys my age. No, this is… evocative and classical. Something that I haven’t heard before. It’s mournful yet also powerful.
“You going to knock?” Liam asks, eyebrows raised as he watches me. I was so lost to the music feeling it stir something inside my soul, I forgot where I was just now. That, or I’m more tired than I realize.
“Yeah. Yes.” I smile, trying to exude a level of confidence I don’t feel.
The door flies open, and we’re greeted by a disheveled looking guy with a mop of dirty blonde hair in desperate need of a shower, and headphones slung around his neck.
“Oh, shit. You scared me,” he says gripping at his chest.
“Sup, James?” Liam asks with a tilt of his chin in that way guys do when they’re acknowledging a friend.
James. So not…
“Chase,” Liam says, eyes reduced to mere slits. Even the way he says his name sounds like a chilling rebuke.
I slide my eyes to where Chase is standing behind James in a dark black hoodie. His soft brown curls peeking through the hood that lays on top of his head like a cocoon. I can feel my mouth drop open as I finally see the guy that’s my new stepbrother.
Devastatingly handsome yet menacing at the same time doesn’t seem to encompass his very presence. His gray eyes are storm of emotions that I feel all the way down to my toes as he stares me down.
I get why those girls downstairs were going feral, because this Greek statue come to life would stir the dead from their graves. I shake myself mentally for even noticing how hot he is. He’s my stepbrother.
Family.
Off-limits.
James passes us and heads into the room right behind us with a wave.
I turn my attention to Liam and take my luggage from him.
“Thanks for your help,” I say.
Chase crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe watching.
“Melody, I presume?” I don’t miss the way he says my name with a biting tone. He’s not pleased about me being here. Noted.
“And you’re Chase.” My eyebrow arches in a challenge.
He grunts, eyes trailing my body, then fixes Liam with a stare that can only be categorized as withering. These two clearly have a history. My curiosity is peaked wondering what this enigma of a man could have done to earn Liam’s ire.
“Here, this is my number in case you need it,” Liam says, pulling out a card. I take the embossed paper and marvel at being handed a card. Normally, guys just take my phone and enter their number into it. I guess in this world, they have their own business cards. How very Patrick Bateman of them. I don’t know whether to be impressed or intimidated.
“Uh, thanks,” I smile brightly at him.
He returns the smile with one of his own and I feel myself blush.
“See you around, Melody,” he nods at me and goes back in the direction we came.
Okay. I can do this. I think to myself as I stare at the open door in front of me. In truth, everyone’s reaction to Chase has me a little unsettled. I’m already nervous to start school here, but now I feel even more so. What kind of man must he be to have everyone so on edge at just the mention of his name? I fear I already know the answer, having seen his type in the bar more times than I can count. Spoiled rich little shits, with a huge ego and no empathy to be found anywhere.
Guess there’s no time like the present to find out for sure, though. I enter the space and my gaze sweeps across the expansive room. There’s a baby grand piano in the middle of the room, a black suede couch, a large tv mounted against the wall, and a full kitchen area that I can see from where I stand. I’d always assumed dorm rooms were tiny, but this place would fetch a pretty price as a whole apartment in New York.
The thought of the city I left behind sends a pang through my chest.
My friends, my life I’d carved out, all upturned with my mother’s new marriage.
I close the door behind me, and it leaves Chase and I alone.
We stare at each other for a beat, not knowing how to handle the situation. It’s not every day that I find myself with a new stepbrother.
“So…” I begin, feeling so unbelievably awkward. I’m dead on my feet, needing to find my room soon before I pass out.
Chase takes several steps towards me until he’s towering over me. He has a cruel twist to his lips as he stares down his prominent nose, pinning me with an intimidating gaze. I take a clumsy step back, eyes wide wondering what the hell he’s doing.
“I don’t know what you and your whore of a mother think you’re going to get from me, but don’t except any niceties from me. You may have gotten my father to get you into this school, but he’s not here. I am.”
My hands find my hips as I stare up into his hard gray stormy eyes. “I don’t want anything but to know where my room is. I’m tired. I’m hungry. And I have no patience for a spoiled little shit like yourself.”
His smile widens and what little space there is between us is eaten up as he places a finger under my chin. “Your room is right here, princess.”
My eyes widen. “Wh-what?”
I yank myself away from him and scan the room again, snagging on the glaring obvious problem. There’s only one bed.
“I’m not staying here,” I say crossing my arms over my chest. The motion snags Chase’s attention and I catch him glancing at my sizable assets. That only angers me further. “Eyes up here, Milford.”
His nostrils flare at being caught out. “I’m not stopping you from leaving. The door’s right there. Don’t let it hit your scrawny ass on the way out.” He stalks off to his bed and sprawls out along the plush looking comforter where his laptop is propped open.
Hands shaking, I dig out my cell and text my mom.
Hey, I’m here at the school. There seems to be some misunderstanding. Chase seems to think I’m staying here??
I press send and wait for her response. I don’t have a lot of confidence that she’ll actually answer. She’s off on her honeymoon, but even if she wasn’t, she’s notorious for ignoring me even at the best of times. Especially if I need something from her.
A read receipt appears, and I hold my breath hoping that those three little dots will appear. Only, they never do.
I let out a frustrated sigh and settle for the black suede couch. I’ve been traveling for over 36 hours. My skin feels dirty from the plane and my hair needs to be washed, but more than anything I need sleep. There’s no town near enough that I can get a hotel room for the night, and even if I wanted to I know exactly how much money is in my bank account. While my new stepfather might have been more than happy to pay for my spot here, I haven’t heard anything about living expenses. I have some saved, but not enough to waste it on a night in a hotel.
“Take your fucking shoes off if you’re going to sit there. I won’t have you fucking up my things,” Chase calls out, giving me a death glare.
I raise a middle finger and put my shoes right on his couch. A visible tick in his jaw is all the warning I have before my feet are being yanked by his large hands. My ass hits the ground hard, and he’s inches away from my face, bent down over me with a menacing stare.
“Don’t fuck with my stuff, or I’ll have you begging for your fucking life.” He reaches to move a stray hair that’s fallen over my eyes with his hand and I flinch. Body shaking instantly from muscle memory. As flashes of my father’s angry fists slamming into my face flit behind my eyes, Chase’s angry glare melds and becomes his. Suddenly, I’m five years old all over again. Scared and hurt. Wanting to run but having nowhere to go. Ready to receive my punishment.
He assesses my reaction, nose flaring and backs off, putting his hands into the pockets of his low hanging sweatpants. I pick myself off the ground and remove my shoes with shaky hands. It’s been ages since I’ve been triggered like that, but I can’t show my weakness. I don’t want Chase to see how broken I am on the inside. Not after all the work I’ve done to appear like a normal person.
That music starts up again, and I notice that the sound is coming from Chase’s computer. He steps back, clearing his throat. “Glad we understand each other.”
My fingers clench and unclench, and my teeth grind together wanting to respond with something cutting but I can tell I don’t have the energy.
He plops onto his comfortable bed, becoming completely mesmerized by the glowing screen of his laptop. The music emanating from it acting like a lullaby to my fatigued body.
I rest my head on one of the couch pillows, finding the most comfortable position I can, and screw my eyes shut. Willing my mind to focus on the hauntingly beautiful notes. Hoping that they’ll carry me off to sleep.
I can deal with the room situation in the morning. But for now, I don’t think Chase is going to drop this ruse and I don’t have any fight left in me to protest. The notes do just as I hope and wash away the frightening memories of my father, lulling me into a deep and dreamless sleep.