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He pulls me in for another kiss, his hands roaming every inch of my body, making their way to my hips. He pulls me off the ground and I link my legs around his waist.
He pulls away from me, tossing his head back and letting out a loud groan, “I want you so fucking bad, sugar.”
I ache with want, needing to feel him inside of me again, but we’re out of time.
“I love you,” I whisper into his neck, leaving a trail of kisses down his skin. “I know I love you.” I don’t think I love him, I know I love him. And I don’t care if it’s way too soon to be saying it. My mind races with ten thousand thoughts. What if he doesn’t actually love me? What if this is purely lust? What if I’m making an idiot out of myself? What if I’m about to get my heart broken into a billion fucking pieces?
But what if this is the one time something actually works out?
Bordeaux sets me down and smooths my hair, the city wind blowing it everywhere. He places one finger under my chin and lifts my face before running his thumb over my bottom lip. “I love you, too,” he says. “Don’t go anywhere, okay? I know I’m leaving you, but I don’t fucking want to. If I had it my way—”
I stand on my toes and kiss him, not letting him finish. “I’m not going anywhere, B.”
And in the moment, I fully intend on keeping that promise.
Thirty-Six
Bordeaux
Arcane (adj.) secret, mysterious,
understood by only a few.
___________
Warm stage lights roam over my body to the tune of Mistakes, the last song on our set list. Vibrant hues of green, pink, and violet make love to my skin as sweat rolls down my body, and I pause a moment to catch my breath as I finger my guitar strings rhythmically to this song we’ve played hundreds of times.
I’ve long since thrown off my shirt, the ceiling fans not ever enough to cool me down. Between the thousands of warm bodies surrounding the stage, the dozens of lights, and the equipment, I feel like I’m running around in a sauna.
Looking out at the crowd, I smile when the chorus ends and my guitar solo starts. I don’t look at my guitar but instead, I watch their faces. I love this part of the song. Playing it live feels like the most intoxicating rush I’ve ever experienced, and it makes me fall back in love with music each time I do it. I feel my heart beat even faster than only seconds ago as total fucking bliss suffocates me in the best possible way. A shiver runs down the length of my spine as I take it all in.
This feeling never gets old.
Despite Carleeta and Hellfire and everything and everyone working against us, this is the shit I live for. These moments right here. When I let my fingers slide over the frets, grazing the neck of my matte black guitar, none of their noise can touch me.
I finish my solo and sing into the mic on my headpiece.
The devil dances in front of me
I’m like a puppet on a string
The only secrets that I keep
Are the ones I need to desperately release
There’s a pause in the music where it all dies down, and then Flynn breaks out into a fast and flawless drum solo, bringing the crowd back to life.
Standing on the edge of one of the platforms that extend from the stage, I sing and look at the fans in the front row of the pit. Most are women, who all blur together as they jump up and down, reaching toward me, trying to graze one of my pant legs. I’ve learned to stay just out of arm’s reach from the fans while performing. I’ve been taken out one too many times from eager fans tripping me by accident.
I watch as their mouths move but I can’t hear anything but myself and our music in my earpiece. Bending down while singing, I sling my guitar around to my back, letting Miller pick up the outro. I look over at him as he bends at the knees, tilting his entire body backward and shoving his guitar up into the air while playing the last few chords. The loud crescendo of Flynn’s cymbals ring out in the air, and the crowd goes absolutely insane, screaming and clapping for us.
I reach my arms out to the crowd in front of me and the dozen fans who are within close proximity grab ahold of my arms, still jumping and screaming. The music ends as I stand back up, the lights fade from their vibrant hues to barely-there and finally gone. The entire stadium goes black, aside from one dim white light shining only on me. I finish the song acapella as the music stops, the crowd finally surrendering, knowing this part is coming up.
This is my favorite moment in the entire show. While not many of our songs are my cup of tea, this one is one of the harder sounding tracks and it’s right up my alley. It isn’t that pretty, perfect pop-rock that we’re so known for. It’s dark and broody and fucking perfect. The fans know the routine by now; they’ve seen clips from our shows online, and many of them travel around the country, following us from city to city, and they know how this song ends. They silence themselves to give me complete control, and the power and rush I feel is unlike anything in the entire world.
The arena is almost completely silent as I finish the song, a complete 180 from the nonstop screams only moments ago.
And I’m screaming inside
