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“He’s right, Gun,” Sebastian agrees, shoving me out of the booth and to my feet. “Let’s get you in a fight tonight. Let some stress out before we deal with the biggest headache of all. I’ll also ask Alexandra if we have any updates on Ezra’s case. Deal?”
Of course he would use that as his bargaining chip. Out of the three of us, Sebastian has the best relationship with our band manager. If she’s going to give any of us some information, it would be him. I’d question if they were banging each other behind our backs, but all of us agreed to never mix business and pleasure ever again. He wouldn’t touch her, even if the opportunity presented itself to him.
“Deal,” I agree, giving in. “Let’s get you fuckers back to the room.”
Chapter Seven
~ Four Years Ago
“Are you ready for the best night of our lives?” Creed practically shouts, swinging his arm around my shoulder as he tucks me into his side.
“You literally say that every night, Cre,” I chuckle, snuggling into his hold. It’s rare when I get this time with my boys.
For the past year, we have been shuffled around from one place to the next, always with a million eyes on us. We knew what we were getting into when we decided to send our music to record labels and take a deal. We wanted a life in the spotlight, on the road, and making music for everyone to enjoy. Music made us happy and calmed our souls. Together, we made our own little family. Up on stage, there wasn’t anyone who could take our happiness away as the roars of the crowd fed our adrenaline, getting us to play harder.
“I know, but tonight, I can just tell it’s going to be different,” Creed says, placing a kiss on the top of my head. He lets me go and starts to bounce on the top of his feet, getting pumped up before we walk on stage.
From our spot backstage, we can hear the roars and chants of the crowd ready for our big entrance. The previous bands did their jobs getting the crowd ready for us. It was crazy to know that we had gone from being an opening band to headlining our own tour in under a year. I thought it would have taken longer but I’m also extremely thankful for the blessings we have.
I can feel the buzzing energy from all around us running along my skin, my adrenaline joining it to get me pumped up. The sound of the crowd cheering feels like a second heartbeat for me. Reaching up around my neck, I grab my earpieces and put both of them in place so I can hear the cues from our sound guy. I don’t necessarily need them but they are nice to have when something goes wrong. They do little to drown out the crowd, but they do enough.
Creed stops at the top of the stairs, turns back to look at us, and gives us his normal “let’s get this shit started” smile before turning back around and walking out from behind the black curtain and onto the stage. As I grab my black Gibson guitar from its stand beside the stairs, I can already hear Creed on the mic talking to the crowd and introducing each of us one by one. The roars get even louder, to the point it feels like the fans are shaking the stage. Sebastian is the next to quickly climb the five stairs and walk through the black curtain to his spot behind his red and black drum set, showing off a bit as he sits with a rotation of his sticks and a short riff. Gunner squeezes my shoulder as he passes me, his bass guitar hanging in place in front of him, and heads to his spot with a loud strum across his strings. I’m not always the last one to enter the stage, but tonight we wanted to mix it up.
“And last but certainly not least is our favorite girl! We wouldn’t have Damned Embers if it wasn’t for her. Give a huge shout-out for the one and only, Skylar Mason on lead guitar!” Creed calls out.
With my cue, I head up the metal stairs and enter the stage. A bright smile expands across my face as I lightly skip to my spot up front on the left side of Creed. I give a wave to the crowd then bring my arm down, strumming the first chord to our introductory song. Before us is a crowd of roughly fifty thousand people, taking up seats in the almost sold-out hockey arena. Fans are shouting, jumping up and down, and people in the pit area are clamoring to get closer to the stage. Every bit of it is chaos I love.
Following my lead we begin our first song, the crowd singing right along with us. They are feeding off our energy, making this one of the greatest shows I think we have played on this tour so far. One song leads into the next, and before I know it, we’re reaching the end of our show. I’m drenched in sweat that’s dripping down my face and getting into my eyes, but I play on, wanting to give our audience the best show possible. There are only a few chords left before the end of the song approaches. Creed, Gunner, and I all line up, side-by-side, hitting the last note together and letting it draw out for as long as we can until our crew lowers the lights above us, making the stage go dark so we can make our exit. As we leave, the crowd is chanting for us to do a second encore. If given the chance, we would. All of us would, but the city we’re in has an ordinance that we can’t play after eleven pm.
“That was a fantastic show!” Freddy shouts over the yelling.
He’s standing a little too close to me for comfort, and I can feel goosebumps break out on my arms, but they aren’t the good kind. I’ve told the guys before that I wasn’t a fan of him, but the label said we were stuck and that if there were any issues to report them immediately. The guys wanted to make it an issue and even take legal action to get him removed, but I promised to just do my best to avoid being alone with him instead. I didn’t want to cause a big ruckus since we were still a newer group, and I didn’t want to draw attention or drama to us. They hated my opinion on it, but in the end, agreed to let me take the lead, which I was thankful for.
“It always is,” Gunner grumbles, stepping in front of me to lift my guitar strap over my head. His dark brown eyes never once leave mine as he reaches back to hand my guitar off to some tour employee standing nearby. His other arm shoots forward, gripping my waist and pulling me forward directly into his sweaty chest.
“God you stink,” I laugh, scrunching my nose as I try to pull out of his hold. It’s impossible to do, his grip on me is too tight, but I try nonetheless. “I’m sweaty enough as it is on my own, I don’t need yours too dude.”
“Suck it up, Demon Queen, I need to hold you,” he answers before leaning down until his mouth is next to my ear. The movement makes my body warm, this time not with heat but with lust. If only he would just suck my ear lobe into his mouth and nibble. He knows how much that turns me on. “I needed to mark my territory. You are mine, and I don’t share,” his voice is low enough that only I can hear him, “except with my brothers.”
I give him a small nod against his chest, doing my best to ignore just how gross and sweaty he is. Eventually, he lets me go, and I know the coast is clear, at least somewhat. Freddy moved away from me and is now talking to Sebastian about something. Creed steps up to join us, his chest to my back as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. I just roll my eyes at the move, knowing my boys are being stupid.
“Let’s get changed and get out of here,” I suggest, pulling away to walk down the tunnel to the area outside of our dressing rooms. Without looking, I know they are all following me, their presence hard to miss. Tour personnel step to the side as I pass, some smile, give me a nod, or tell me ‘great show’. Everyone has been amazing to work with, and I need to remember to have our tour manager pass a huge thank you along to the label for everyone who has stepped up to work with us. There’s no way this tour would be doing as well as it is without all of them.
After a couple of turns, I make it to the door marked “Skylar”. We tried to tell the tour at the start that the four of us could just share one dressing room, but they insisted that I had my own away from the guys stating it was wrong and females need to be in their own room. I rolled my eyes, knowing it was easier to accept it; the guys threw a fit that resembled a toddler’s tantrum that made me laugh until I had tears in my eyes.
Stepping into my room, I make sure to lock the door behind me. If I don’t, one of them will try to sneak in with me, and right now I just want to grab a quick shower and change into another outfit so we can go out. Before we got here tonight, we all agreed to go to the nightclub. It was more like I begged, and they gave in knowing it was easier to make me happy. It had been weeks since I got to go out dancing, and I needed to burn off the extra energy. Most artists tend to be exhausted after a huge show like ours. It’s not like I wasn’t as well, but I was addicted to dancing, and I didn’t care how tired I was. I’d still get on that dance floor and shake my ass.
I didn’t stop to check my room as I headed back to the shower. It didn’t seem necessary knowing I just needed to get the sweat off of me as soon as possible. In five minutes I was showered, and a towel was wrapped around my body as I entered the main area and went to the bag of clothes I had grabbed to wear tonight. Inside was a pair of black leather pants that crisscrossed and tied in the front. I knew my boys were going to love taking me out of them later. The top I chose was a bright red tube top that showed off a tiny part of the tattoo that I had gotten to represent my men; a pair of drumsticks, a guitar, a rose, and a crown. They loved seeing it, knowing that I was claimed and off-limits to others. Each of us got it tattooed on us in a spot that no one would see unless we were intimate with them, which meant no one would ever see them but us. Leaving my rose gold, almost bright pink, hair up in the messy bun I threw it in before my shower, I got dressed and moved to the little area I’d claimed to do my makeup. It was nothing more than a small granite counter in front of a mirror with two lights above it. It was enough for me to see and do what I needed, touching up what had run off from the stage and shower. Most of what I wore was waterproof, but all women know “waterproof” just means “water-resistant”—not the same, but whatever.
Looking in the mirror, I see that most of my eyeliner has stayed in place for once. Just to cover my bases, I add another layer of black eyeliner to my top and bottom lids. The one thing I did need to fix was my eye shadow. When I say it was either gone or made me look like I had a black eye, I mean it. Horrible.Really wish someone would make a waterproof eye shadow.Reaching down to the counter where my makeup remover wipes should be, my hand touches a soft surface instead of the plastic I was expecting. My eyes drop to see what it is and that’s when I let out a scream so shrill, it hurt my throat after singing for almost two hours.
Sitting on top of my wipes was a pink rose with what looked like blood drizzled on top of it. Beside it was a white piece of paper with words written in an almost too elegant black script. I didn’t have time to read the words before there were loud bangs against my door from someone slamming their fist on it as they tried to twist the handle and open it.
“SKY!” Freddy shouts, muffled from the other side. “I need you to open the door! What happened?! Are you okay?!” He implores from the other side, his voice filled with worry. “SOMEONE GET ME SECURITY AND A KEY TO OPEN THIS DOOR! SKY!”
I barely hear him shouting over the blood roaring in my ears from the panic. I knew I was going into shock, but I couldn’t stop my body's natural reaction. My dressing room had been left unlocked, which wasn’t abnormal, but no one entered without my permission. This was a first. I knew we had received some weird ass fan mail at the label, but they dealt with it all for us. We normally got a quick security briefing of people to be aware of if someone took it too far. That was a part of the life we chose. But this–the note and flower–wasn’t something I thought I’d be dealing with.
Closing my eyes I thought about all the good things in my life, trying to push the fear down to a manageable level. Even though reading it was probably a bad idea, my curiosity was getting the better of me. Whatever this crazy person said, I needed to know. Opening my eyes, I step forward and reach for the note.
