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Everything feels so wrong.
“Hey, uhm. You okay, Shannon?” Caelan’s voice cuts in, confused but concerned.
When I don’t reply, Ican’t, Caelan touches my shoulder. I don’t pull away but don’t react to the touch, either. He sits down beside me.
It’s obvious he doesn’t know what to do. I sneak a glance through my tears, and I can see the awkwardness written clearly on his face. But he’s adamantly trying, and that hurts even more.
“What’s up?”
I choke on a frustrated, bitter laugh.
Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.
Why the fuck did that get to me so much? It wasn’t even one thing. Just. Lots of stupid things that built up.
“Was it Elias doin’ his creepy eldritch abomination thing?”
“What?” Caelan is so far off base that it manages to startle me out of it for a moment. “No! God, no. I’m not upset ’cause I’m scared of him.”
Scared isn’t right. It was like what I’d felt before—thatdissonance—only escalated to something unbearable. Because that wasn’t Elias, that was a caricature, a mask, just as much as their human glamours are.Thatwas just a gimmick for a band.
It still feels unreal to me at times. It was especially bad after our first night together, when I’d wondered if I was fucking insane.
Wondered where the hell all my boundaries between fiction and reality went, the lines blurring into an indistinct mess.
How could they bereal?
How could I look at beings like that and fall so hard for them?
I thought I was over that. All the conversations we’d had since, keeping in contact constantly, made it clear they were so much deeper than the parts they showed on screen—people, not just a little show for the sake of publicity.
Until tonight, and all of that came rushing back like a sucker punch to the gut.
Honestly, I wish I hadn’t freaked out and had been able to stay and appreciate what Elias was doing, because I would have liked to have seen it. I can’t deny his power is incredibly appealing, and when he uses thatvoice.
Even the whole breaking of reality thing aside, though, it stings. There had been so much contention about him using his powers around me earlier, though hehadbeen better about it and relaxed a lot more today. I know I should appreciate that, yet he just went full demon mode in front of an entire audience of strangers with no qualms?
Logically, I understand it. It makes total sense. They think everything is special effects. That it’s Elias dressed up and acting in character, putting on a show for the sake of dramatics and excitement. Of course, it’s not the same damn thing.
But logic doesn’t stop that stupid, emotionally driven part of my heart that feels like Elias trusts them more than me.
One thorn of many.
It’s so many things, so many stupid things that should be meaningless on their own.How do I explain all of that?
Even if I could find the words, I’m in no state to be speaking. If I try, I’ll only break down even more, and I’m already embarrassing myself in front of Caelan. I am a fucking mess.
He doesn’t know how to react, and I don’t blame him. I’ve never been able to help anyone else in my life, either.
Caelan touches my shoulder again, and I shake him off.
“I don’t know what to do,” he admits. “Do you need tissues or something?”
It would almost be sweet—his attempts at helping despite how blatantly out of his depth he is. I’m more used to crying things out by myself. I hardly know what to do with someone here to comfort me. But tissues would be useful.
I nod slowly.
Caelan leaves briefly and returns with a small stack of paper towels. I take them gratefully, pulling the stupid mask off and letting it fall to the floor so I can wipe my eyes. At least I won’t have to face him with tears trailing down my cheeks and a runny nose now.
