CHAPTER TWELVE
BUNNY
Razor took me off the schedule for tonight so that I can watch them and get a feel for the Globe before entering it. Since I, uh, abandoned practice.
It’s daunting when night falls and spotlights are sizzling through the heat.
They have so many more people who care to see them. They’re all shrieking and spilling things and flashing their chests.
I knew my tent was dreary. My morose is imprinted on the walls and stains every inch of the floor. But it’s overwhelming to go from rather silent observers to… this.
My stomach twists, lightening my head and shaking my vision. I grip my knees for a reality check, getting a whiff of the blue raspberry cloud on my left.
“I’d be such a slut if I was them,” Ora shakes her head, resting the mouth of her vape between her lips while paying attention to the guys getting their bikes inside the cylindrical walls.
A laugh huffs through my nose, my expression not matching the sound.
That’s… not really a sight I wanna obsess over.
It’s a given that women flock to the dirt bikes. I’ve known that since their first performance. But I don’t remember experiencing the jealousy quaking my veins with an obscure rage.
Though, I didn’t have Razor’s face between my thighs back then. Or him making any sort of notion that he was interested in the emotional outcast of the group.
Wow. I’m actually getting really upset right now.
I frown at myself, shifting my focus to Gwen tapping the microphone, appearing so small next to the meshed steel. But it’s becoming increasingly hard to concentrate on anything other than the extra warmth bubbling beneath the lashes flaying open my skin.
“Welcome!” Gwen throws her arms out, giving the whistling and clapping audience a spin and curtsy each way in a scandalous ringleader coat.
As the noise dies down, the spotlights hum mechanically, the bright light cutting to a fluorescent orange and consuming the Globe in a noxious hue.
“Ohh, I know y’all can give my boys more love than that! Give it your all and don’t disappoint me!” she smiles, theatrically bobbing her head to the velocity of her demand.
Raising my hands to make some noise, whistling pierces my ears. The discomfort of it screws my face up and my clap falls lazy, trying to breathe through the range of emotions I’m battling just to show some support and get a better understanding of their world.
It’s far different than my own. And I’m growing irritated with myself for being uncomfortable with it.
Adjusting my position on the metal, I lock onto Razor through the gaps of steel. Even though his helmet goggles are all-black and tinted, I can feel his eyes on me. They’re slipping all over my skin.
It’s sweltering, knowing the face under the helmet is beginning to haunt my mind. Makeup and all.
“Duse, honey? … Lock those boys in!” Gwen manages.
He’s still watching me, parked in the formation they take off in. But instead of paying attention to the trapdoor vaulting them inside, he’s rocking his hips back and rolling them forward with suggestive intent.
Blood stains my throat, the thick warmth regulating a steady incline of my heartbeat. I wipe my sweaty palms on my overalls, finally breaking the compulsion and looking anywhere else other than him.
I can’t prove it. But I think he’s trying to taunt me for not kissing him after he begged for it twice.
The air is too thick.
I’m being buried alive.
And I can’t think properly with how many noises and screams, and thundering feet are happening around me.
As the music swells, their throttles twist, rippling the triple engines for the synchronized rock they do to get into motion.
Once the beat drops, they take off.
And so do I.
I feel bad. Actually, horrible. Guilt is sinking my chest even further into the enveloping dirt. But I can’t breathe and the strobing lights are manipulating my head with images I can’t smack away.
Barren air battles my lungs, running and weaving around people either approaching the Globe or wandering around for other things.
I whimper, taking fast, clustered steps toward the twinkling carousel. Everyone’s giant and encasing me, amplifying the inner turmoil of being buried alive.
Bands and speckles of neon lights glare in disordered chaos, pumping in tandem with the screams and laughter resounding from rides and games.
I keep running, pushing past the burn in my thighs and leaping right from left to avoid the blurry groups of people strobing even brighter lights.
A loud ding rips my skin off, sending it across the park and leaving me in stinging pain as I survive the last few feet to get to my tent.
I trample in, smacking the closed curtains out of my way, and sway to a slower pace down the center aisle. My head tips back and my eyes close, my chest racking to control the rampant breaths stripping my mouth.
You can breathe.
Inhaling deeply, oxygen surges my brain and uncovers me from the demise my anxiety convinces me of.
“Did I miss you?”
The masculine voice on my left pops my eyes open, my neck snapping straight before whipping over to the man sitting patiently, his arms stretched over the nearest chairs as if he’s bathing in the dim track lighting.
It takes a few moments of blinking. But I recognize his gelled blonde hair and brown eyes from the library.
I swallow to wet my mouth, swatting the curl from my face. “Oh, uh, no. Sorry, I wasn’t on the schedule tonight.”
His brows raise, sweeping down the shakes I’m trying to tame. “Do you need to sit?”
“No, I’m okay,” I rush, stashing my hands into my pockets to hide them while putting on my best smile. “Can I help you? I could go get-”
“Oh, no,” he insists, quickly getting up from a red velvet seat.
Dropping the performance from my pulsing face, I take a step back, eyeing his adamant walk toward me.
“I just… wanted to see you,” he smiles, bumping his shoulders coyly.
“Why?”
I don’t like this…
Stopping maybe a foot away, he starts blushing, to the point where he’s wiping down his grin and looking off.
“I’ve been watching you since last summer.
I thought…” He rolls his head, puffing out a mouthful of air.
“I thought seeing you in the library was fate. Since I had never seen you outside of here. You don’t even have social media.
But, uh, yeah.” He rattles a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his attention on my silence.
My eyes burn, so badly my lids feel like sandpaper as I blink, trying to return the moisture I need in order to see clearly. “Oh, wow.”
“Wow?” he hikes a brow. “Just wow?”
“I’m sorry, I’ve just never-”
“Noticed me?”
My eyes pin, drawing my bottom lip within my teeth to appease the hum of saws vaporing up my throat.
I nod, hoping my silence is enough and that I don’t have to audibly tell someone I can’t see faces through the tears I’m forced to hide.
His lips press together tightly, and he nods, accepting the truth that appears to be brutal for him. “Is Bunny even your name?”
“Y-yes.” I take another step back, cautiously tracking every faint movement of his.
“Hmm.” Replenishing the distance, he loads his hands in his pockets, twisting his lips contemplatively. “What’s your last name?”
Oh, no.
Right as my heart starts to calm, he wants to ask me a question that drugs me with fight-or-flight. I don’t know my last name. I don’t even know my actual birthday outside the one Razor gave me. And I’m sure my hesitance isn’t going to convince him of my answer. “I don’t give that information out.”
But what if he can help?
Is leaving what I want anymore?
My stomach pits, becoming too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone worry about his analytical eyes sneaking closer.
“Bunny, no last name, no social media, or evidence of life outside of Vore. That’s really weird. A face like yours should be everywhere, not stuck in a tent at an amusement park.”
The backhanded compliment needles the whites of my eyes.
He observes the welling water and sighs deeply, his broad chest rising through the white fabric stretched to accommodate him. “I’m sorry. I… I really don’t mean to make you upset. I’ve just become, I guess, a little obsessive and looked forward to seeing you last night. But you guys were closed.”
My hand waves on its own, taking accountability for my emotions. “No, you’re okay. This is a common problem for me.” I try to smooth this over with a lighthearted grin, but as I blink, the streams are slipping free and racing down my cheeks.
“You’re so pretty, Bunny,” he hums, softening his eyes to roam the leakage I’m actively wiping away.
“Oh,” I squeak, my shoulders turning themselves inward. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you. Bu-”
“But,” he interjects, cocking his head.
But Razor will kill you if he sees you alone with me.
“But… I-” directing a thumb over my shoulder, I laugh awkwardly and take another step away from him “-need to catch back up with my friends. I just ran in for lip gloss.”
“Wait,” he rips his hands from his pockets, digging one back in to fish around for something. “If you ever want to get breakfast or catch a movie at the Drive-In, call me.”
The white card getting stretched in my direction carousels my head.
I don’t know why I take it. Or why he’s smiling like he just got to the center of a Tootsie Pop. But I think I’m going to throw up from the nerves numbing my hands and flooding arsenic over my tongue.
He steps between my feet, slipping a solo hand around to my lower back and bending down to deliver his lips to my ear. “Don’t tell your boyfriend.”
Horror turns my mouth down, widely staring off at the single spotlight that’s usually pointed at me on stage. Thankfully, he doesn’t linger. He lets that be the last thing exchanged in this encounter and leaves my tent.
From what happened earlier with Xene—I think I’d be putting his life at risk if I even considered calling him.