Fuck, I miss those lips.
The crowd erupts into hysteria as she smiles, sending shockwaves of adoration into their hearts. Her gaze sweeps over her fans, and I see her face soften, her eyes sparkle with gratitude and love. It’s not something I’ve seen in a long time.
She’s been so secluded from her fans, but that’s been changing lately. Videos have surfaced of her and Darius giving out autographs as she leaves venues. Then there’s the meet and greets where she spends one-on-one time with a select few fans. I freaking almost made the list at the last signing. If only I got in line a little earlier.
Something also tells me she saw the show of support, her fans refusing to support the stolen lyrics.
From here, sitting at the sidelines, all I can do is watch as she takes over the show—the arena, no, the entire world revolving around her lone, petite figure.
As soon as Raina’s singing floats in the air around me, I can’t help but lose myself in her voice. It’s like honeyed sunshine with a hint of soul all wrapped up in one delightful package—it’s unmistakably Raina.
She always starts her shows with a song we wrote together, telling interviewers it’s her way of holding on to her roots, but I think it’s secretly been a love note to me. A cry for me to come back to her that I never heard with my own pain clouding my judgment. One more thing to regret.
When I hear the words come out of her, I know that no one else could deliver those lyrics just like she does. It’s gut-wrenching and beautiful all at once. Each and every song of hers is like that. Why the fucktard that is her uncle thinks he can steal any of her songs and give it to another artist is beyond me. It has to be a joke.
My heart soars as I watch her dancing, so freaking close yet so far away. I always knew Raina would be a dream on stage.
She goes through song after song, working through her set list, a costume change here and there. With each one that passes by, my nerves build, knowing I’m getting closer to my chance. If I miss this one, then I’ll have to wait until her show in Atlanta. I don’t want to add any more days of not seeing her to my already too long list.
“I have time for a few more songs. Is there anything you want to hear?” she teases the crowd. I know from the first show that the song has already been picked ahead of time, but the audience enjoys thinking she picked the name from someone screaming it.
This time, though, instead of a bunch of noisy screaming, everyone chants the same word. “Ruin! Ruin! Ruin!”
She gives an unsure smile to her fans before glancing at each of my best friends before landing on Darius, seeking an answer as to why everyone is screaming the same title when she doesn’t have a song by that name.
Darius steps closer and whispers in her ear so the microphone doesn’t pick it up. A slight blush tints her cheeks before her eyes go wide at whatever he said. It’s easy to see why fans assumed they were dating.
“Ah, I see,” she remarks. She scans the crowd, then turns around to face the band. “Apparently, the Storm Chasers helped us name one of our new songs.”
From here I can see Nash’s smile and Blake asking her something. “The first one we did. Sounds fitting, doesn’t it?” Keaton gives her an upbeat rhythm of approval. “Should we do it?” she whispers like it’s a secret, but the microphone picks it up clear as day.
This time, Darius, Nash, and Blake play the first several chords of the song in unison like they rehearsed it. Raina turns to face the audience, her smile like the sun. “My manager and lawyer might not like this idea, but they haven’t given me any instructions otherwise…” She pauses, seeming to think about it for a moment. “I mean, you all went through the trouble of helping me name it. It’s only right if I sing it for you, don’t you think?”
She waits for the screams to calm before resting a hand on her hip in a saucy pose. “This song doesn’t have a choreography. You still want to hear it?”
What a little tease. Of course they want to hear it.
A small laugh falls out of her like she’s actually having a lot of fun. It’s an intoxicating sound. Something I’ve been dying to hear since I woke up in the hospital bed.
“Can someone get me a wireless?” she asks, walking toward the side of the stage. A roadie comes running out with thebedazzled microphone she used earlier and takes the headset with him.
Raina looks at the microphone with a hint of disdain, then at the sparkly outfit she’s wearing. “Don’t mind all the glitter. It doesn’t really fit with the song, does it?”
Darius bumps off his leather jacket he’s wearing—come on! The dude even stole my style—and drapes it over her shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.
Since she’s now using the wireless mic, you can’t hear her thank him, but it’s easy enough to read her lips.
She brings the mic up and feeds me another one of those laughs I can’t get enough of. “Here you go, the first ever live performance of Ruin.” She signals to Keaton to get them started, and the rock sounds of her new song fill the stadium.
From the first fucking word, you can tell she’s the one who wrote the lyrics. There’s too much passion there, something sorely missing from Carmen’s pop version.
Anyone who hears the two side by side could pick the author. The pop version sounds wrong, plain and simple, especially without the code we came up with back when we were kids. It’s not something that’s hard to crack, not now that Raina spilled the tea, but had all the vital words been changed, sure, I could see it passing as a party anthem.
By the time Raina reaches the chorus, her spellbinding effect on the audience is worn off enough for people to start singing along. The video of them singing it hasn’t been out long at all, yet there’re already fans who have every single word memorized.
My girl closes her eyes and sings her pretty little heart out, spilling her pain into the microphone and sharing it with everyone here. A song about how her dreams were ruined by the reality of the harsher side of life. How drugs ruined her connection to feeling emotions. How her trust was ruined by betrayal. How her love was ruined by rejection.
She doesn’t use the word ruin once in that song, but it’s the perfect title for it.
