Chapter Fifty-Nine
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
BONNIE
Our fans completely lose it when we perform Bedlam .
It feels like the beginning of something entirely fresh, a new chapter in the Young Decay lore. When someone asks what inspired the drums on this next album, I’ll tell them it was revenge. Vengeance for my own safety and soul.
We play it into the set break. I’m reeling—standing behind my drum set and holding my arms up as if this is the top of the world we’ve always tried to reach. The last note on Zeb’s guitar continues to play as he and Mads toss a few guitar picks into the audience. Reed jumps onto the platform and gestures to me with his long arms as he moves around the side. I climb onto my stool and practically fall into his arms. We’re still laughing when he carries me to the stage, and once my feet hit the walk, he, Mads, and Zeb all bow around me just like they did the very first show we ever played.
I’m screaming and laughing all at once, tears pricking my eyes. My arms are heavy from the solo, my heart racing erratically. I don’t know how we’re supposed to top that with the three songs we have left, and yet, I know we’ll somehow pull it off. There’s no stopping us anymore, no telling us we can’t accomplish something. This is our high. Our fucking moment.
I toss my drumsticks into the crowd and blow them a kiss before the four of us make our way offstage for a quick set break. The lights cut off. The horde intensifies.
I can’t stop shouting.
“Dude, are you fucking kidding me?! ” Zeb meets me first and scoops me off the floor as I scream and laugh. “That was insane!”
“Holy SHIT!”
I’m back on the ground for barely a second before I’m jumping up to high-five Reed and Mads.
“That was wild! Did you see the pit circles?” Reed asks.
“You should have seen them from my vantage point,” I chime in. “Shit, that was beautiful .”
Mads and Zeb take their vapes from their pockets and draw a few times as they each begin animatedly talking about the song, the sections they think could be stronger. I’m half listening and half staring at the stunning creature approaching us from where she was perched on Mads’ side of the stage.
I’ve kept track of Gemma throughout most of the show, and each time our eyes have met, my stomach twists with anticipation. I’m heated just thinking about what she might have in store for me once we wrap up. I try to join back into the conversation happening in front of me, yet her gaze is too strong to look away from.
And it doesn’t help when she pinches my ass upon walking by.
I meet her sultry, smirking eyes as she pauses on the other side of our huddle. I’d drag her behind a corner and give her something to really pinch, except I know she takes her work entirely too seriously to risk missing something for a quick make out session.
Still, after…
My ass begins aching just thinking about it.
Some people rush up to us with rounds of water that we quickly down.
“Reed, you’re diving in this next one?” Gemma asks him.
“Ah…” He chuckles. “How do you feel about me surfing?” he asks.
She stares at him for a beat, tongue sucking on one of her teeth as she considers it. “When you say surfing… Do you mean walking on your fans or actually surfing?”
Reed considers the question. “Both.”
She peers him over. “Fuck it,” she decides. “Go for it.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Zeb says, eyes wide.
“Dude—” Reed raises his hands to high-five Gemma. “Hell yes!”
“Take that hoodie off,” she says. “I don’t want anyone grabbing it and pulling you backward.”
“Done.” Reed strips the neon green hoodie off and tosses it nowhere in particular, leaving him half naked.
“Hey, does anyone have an extra shirt that they don’t mind getting ripped to shreds?” he asks.
“Head’s up,” someone says nearby.
They toss Reed one of the spare RagnaRock Crew tees from a random box, and the singer smiles as he pulls it over his head.
Gemma eyes him, and I’m obsessed with the amusement in her eyes.
One might think she’s actually enjoying her job.
“You love us,” Zeb declares. “Stop trying to hide it. We know you do.”
Gemma smiles reluctantly at him, her arms crossed. “You’re growing on me,” she tells him.
He hisses a quiet, “Yes!” and takes another hit on his vape.
“Alright, guys. Epic show. Reed, I’ll be behind you when you’re ready.” She looks my way before turning on her heel, and there’s something about that look that tells me it isn’t just my ass that will be on fire after this show.
God, I can’t fucking wait.
I’m still staring at her swaying hips when Stella walks by to tell us we have one minute.
“Three songs,” Reed says.
“Don’t fucking lose a leg out there,” Mads tells him.
“I mean, sacrifices have to be made,” Reed says with a shrug.
“The rock gods demand it,” I chime in. “We did call them out earlier. Kind of.”
Mads scoffs. “Kind of,” he agrees, eyes amused.
“Let’s finish this, fuckers.” Zeb claps his hands so loudly that they sound like thunder cracking.
“Let’s go!”
I make my way up the steps again, stretching my fingers in and out at my sides. My bag with spare sticks is sitting on the top step, and I have to remind myself to grab a set. I catch Gemma watching me from the walk when I reach my stool. I can’t stop grinning and squirming my hips as I take a seat. Zeb catches my attention from the wings. I hold up one arm when I see Mads on the other side. Reed appears in the shadows.
I count us down with four strikes.
The only word to describe the last three songs is mayhem.
The moment Reed launches himself from the stage to atop the barrier, Gemma is there. Liam and Kade control the fans around them as they launch to try and get their hands on him. Still, Reed remains. He belts out the song and points the microphone to some fans. He walks on a few, and Gemma climbs into the crowd to follow behind him. She stays on him, one arm up and ready to grab him at any moment. He topples into the crowd, practically swimming at one point, and once Gemma seems to realize their only way out is to shove, she makes Reed get on her shoulders. Reed laughs and gladly takes the ride. They eventually make it back to the barrier where Reed and Liam help her out of the madhouse.
God, I fucking hope Andi snagged photos of all that.
Reed grabs some of the gifts and takes pictures with a few fans in front between the first and second songs. He’s back onstage when I strike up the second song, and when we pause before the third, I hear Reed laugh into the microphone.
“Holy fucking shit, Denver,” he says, wiping the sweat from his brow. His breaths are heavy in the mic, and as the crowd roars, he lets his arm hang, laughing at the absolute ridiculousness that this is.
“Holy fucking… Dude .” He looks at Mads, who replies with two notes on the bass. Reed passes his mic back and forth in his hands, unable to stay still. “Tonight, headlining all of this—”
The crowd screams louder, and he bends over his knees, laughing.
I can feel their excitement in my bones. It makes my feet move, both coming down on the double-bass pedals.
Reed laughs into the mic again. “You’ve all made tonight extra fucking special. Coming back after the last show, we weren’t sure what to expect. This… Tonight was a dream. So, thank you! Thank you for showing up and showing love.”
I play a few beats, and Mads and Zeb strum on their instruments.
Reed kisses both of his hands and holds them up to the audience as they scream.
“We have one more song, and you know, I think I’m going to need a lot of fucking help singing it. I’m tired, everyone.” He makes his way to the keyboard onstage, the crowd going wild when his fingers glide across the keys.
“This one is called Cross My Heart .”
My chest tightens each time we play this one.
The love behind it, the meaningful lyrics that Reed once poured his entire soul into. It takes me back to the moments I couldn’t find the strength to get off the floor, all the times I called one of them to get me out of the pit I’d fallen into.
And when we wrap up, each of us takes extra time dragging the ending out. Each passing second has me more and more anxious. I’m desperate to stay on the stage, yet at the same time, eager to get off just to find out what Gemma has in store for me.
Eventually, we end and make our way to the stage to bow, give away our guitar picks and drumsticks. And as always, we come back out to sign autographs.
The only glimpse I see of Gemma is when she touches my hip to walk by me after. It’s barely more than a graze, yet it makes me suck in a sharp breath, whatever I was saying to the fan, entirely amiss.
The official excuse I hear Kade tell Liam is that she’s taking a walk to cool down.
Still, I know better.
I know she’s going to get that mask. I know she’s plotting, figuring out where to set herself up in the shadows, possibly intending on following me anywhere I go after this.
We all chill out backstage for a while. Reed recaps the entire show, and while I’m visibly participating, my mind is thinking of every possibility waiting for me on the other side of that door.
Every time someone opens it, a part of me flinches. I’m anticipating Gemma in the shadows, my blood pressure heightened to the point that I can’t sit still. I can’t tell if I’m more excited for this than I was about the show. I keep tapping my drumstick against my palm and drawing short breaths.
I wonder if anyone else can see how anxiety-ridden I am.
I haven’t felt like this since the time she showed up in her bodysuit in my apartment after I snapped back at her over text.
God, that seems like so long ago.
It’s less than an hour before we all splinter off, going our separate ways to sleep, fuck, or party—Reed being the only one to mention the latter, though by the way Wren was falling asleep on his arm in the dressing room, I don’t know how much partying they’ll actually be doing.
I’m tempted to take a stroll around the backstage lawn myself just to see what Gemma does.
Zeb sinks his arm around my shoulders and escorts me out of the staging area, going on and on about the concept art we just got back for our album cover. I keep sneaking glances around us, swearing in every shade to see a figure watching me.
“—is Gemma?” Zeb finally asks. “I thought she’d be back to meet you at the trailer.”
“Ah… Waiting. Somewhere,” I say, peering toward a dark area.
“Oh shit,” Zeb says as he steps back from me, apparently catching onto what I mean. “It’s like that tonight?”
I smirk at him. “It’s like that.”
“Damn, okay. I knew you seemed on edge. Didn’t realize you two were playing a game. You should have told me to fuck off earlier. Is she disguised?”
I have to remember that I never told him she’s actually my stalker.
“Yeah,” I say. “Definitely.”
“So, what does your stalker think about all of this? Where is she?” he asks.
Right here.
Hiding somewhere.
“I ran her off finally,” I say. “Well, Gemma did.”
“Damn,” he says, brows lifted. “That’s impressive. Remind me to thank her.” He playfully swats the end of my hair. “Have fun, Bed.”
“You’re just going to leave me?” I ask as he walks off.
“Sounds like you’re well watched,” he replies with a shrug.
I stare at him as he leaves me, going in the direction of his trailer. And as the quiet crickets’ songs envelope the quiet night, I sink my head back onto my neck and sigh.
True fear isn’t present in my bones. It’s anticipation… as if I’ve consented to go into a haunted house, and I’m waiting on someone to jump out and scare me.
Movement catches the corner of my eye as I open them. It’s minute, and just the little notion that it’s her makes my heart beat a little faster. My thighs squeeze, hair on the back of my neck standing.
I wonder how long she’s going to let me walk around before cornering me…
Time to find out.
I pivot on my heel and begin a random walk, not bothering to watch where I’m going, to remember my footsteps back to the trailer. I trust her to be there. I trust her to watch me no matter what. Regardless of how ticked off my arbitrary stroll makes her, I’m not worried.
I want to be in trouble for this.
I want to drive her wild, to make her question how she ever fell in love with me.
After seeing her reaction to this dress this morning, testing her limits is going to be my new fixation.
The cool night air presses against my skin. My hands are still vibrating from the concert, body on the verge of collapse and running purely on adrenaline.
Every time my chin hits my shoulder, my stomach drops another fraction. I can see her shadow moving in and out of the darkness. My stride picks up as I turn corner after corner, weaving through the quiet trailers, waving to a few friends lingering outside, though I don’t dare stop.
I know she’s hiding. I know they won’t see her.
I intend to keep it that way.
And when we reach the edge by the stage, I look over my shoulder one more time before disappearing into the backstage area.
I loop around the space where some of our equipment is being stored, heart thudding in my ears. I can’t keep the giddy smile off my face. I’m not watching where I’m going. I’m barely able to keep myself from sprinting.
Moonlight reflects off her studded bodysuit.
The sight elicits a squeak from me that I can’t contain. I’m almost skipping as I slip down a darkened hall behind the curtains, pace quickening along with the anxiety threading through me.
I’m holding my breath, expecting her to catch up, so much so that I don’t realize I’m running—
A hand grabs my arm as I reach the end of the hall.
She whips me backward and slams me into the wall. All I get is a glimpse of her mask before her body presses flush to mine, trapping me against the makeshift divider. She presses my wrists together above my head, knee between my thighs, other hand grasping so tightly around my throat that my mouth sags.
“Did you think that was cute?” she asks, and a whimper leaves me at the sound of the voice changer. “Walking around this place on your own?”
Everything within me seems to melt. My knees give.
I stick my tongue out and launch forward. “I knew you’d find me,” I breathe, licking the plastic.
Her fingers squeeze at the soft space under my jaw, thigh pressing against my pulsing cunt. I lift my leg and rock my hips.
“Oh, you’re so fucking desperate,” she rasps. “Look at yourself, rockstar.”
I’m spinning as her hand bruises my wrists.
“Touch me,” I breathe, stars pricking behind my eyes.
She releases my throat. Relief cracks over me, a cold chill pouring down my arms. I don’t stop grinding on her thigh as her hand snakes down my chest, palm flattening. She brushes her thumb over the IOU scarred into my chest, and my head hits the wall.
“Hurt me,” I whisper.
She finds my throat again, and this time, she doesn’t let up.
My motions are erratic. Tears prick my eyes as I struggle against the blinding darkness. My legs squeeze around her thighs. I whimper and try to move my head, gasping as those same stars enclose on me. My jaw drops. My eyes roll.
Oh god, yes .
I can feel the blackout coming just as it did the other week. My instinct is to fight it, the small shred of self-preservation coming to the surface, and yet, I welcome it.
Take me.
Finish me.
She doesn’t speak. My climax rises…
She releases my throat. Blood rushes back to my head. Lights dance gloriously in my vision as I slump and try to steady my breathing. Hell yes—
“God, I fucking love you,” I say through clenched teeth. “Do that again.”
I lean forward to lick her mask once more, and as I do, I lose my balance.
Gemma releases me as if I just erupted into flames, her outstretched arm the only thing catching me from landing flat on my face. I stagger as she releases me and whips off her masks. Both the full head covering and the voice changer hit the ground. And as she stares at me with wide eyes, I realize the words that just left my lips.
“Oh shit,” I say, brows raised. “That wasn’t very romantic, was it?”
Because I had wanted to tell her as we laid together spent, on a soft morning before her run, under the stars at Joshua Tree, or something at least a little more personal than after getting choked in the back hallway of a concert stage.
Except, our relationship has never been conventional, and maybe that’s why this moment doesn’t seem so ridiculous.
I can’t even be bothered to get the smile off my lips.
She swallows, her shoulders slumping. “Don’t smile at me right now,” she says like she isn’t sure how to process this.
My lips curve higher. I chuckle at the purely surprised look on her face. “You can’t seriously be surprised,” I say.
“I assure you, I can,” she says.
“I let you carve letters into my chest, and you’re surprised that I’m actually in love with you?” I ask.
Her gaze fixates on me for a full second more before she’s enclosing the gap between us and pushing me into the wall again.
She kisses me more fiercely than she ever has. More anguished and feral, as if the next minute determines the rest of our lives and saves us from a damnation we didn’t think we would escape. Her hands land back on my hips and pull me onto her thigh again, and this time, I’m too overpowered by emotion to think about holding back.
My groans disappear into her mouth. I’m holding onto her shoulders, grinding and aching for that end as she squeezes my ass. Faster. Harder. I can’t keep myself together….
I pick my feet up off of the ground and practically sit on her thigh as I reach my climax. I yelp into her neck and hang on, body flinching as I spill over.
“When we get to that trailer you can soak more than my thigh,” she eventually says, kissing my cheek. “And you can tell me again how you fell in love with your stalker while you’re doing it.”
Shit, I will.
Because I did.
I fell in love with my stalker.