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Why am I like this?
“Knock it off,” Tyler snarls. “You’re up, Layla. Go kill it, Baby.”
I try to ignore the deep breath she takes, trying to shake off her surprise and pain. I don’t know why she lets me get under her skin. We were never more than a flirtation five years ago, how much could she have really liked us?
Draven glances at me, curiosity in his eyes as I come back. “We’re out a manager,” I explain. “Tyler is taking over for a bit, because Kyle can’t keep his dick in his pants.”
Shrugging, Draven nods as he watches the opening band wrap up. “It sounds like he deserved it. Hey Lovely, you ready for this?” he asks Layla. She gives him a tight smile, nodding, and he glances at me in confusion.
I can’t tell him I fucked up, because that would be an admission of guilt. “Buckle up, buttercup. Part of show biz is looking like a million bucks even when you don’t feel like it,” I growl.
Layla turns her back to me, rolling her neck from side to side to release the tension that I undoubtedly put there. Tossing her curled hair over her shoulder, she congratulates the band who played before us.
Layla takes a deep breath before her lips curl into a smile that’s clearly fake to me. Walking behind her as she crosses the stage, I watch as she takes her spot in front of her mic in her leather pants and mesh crop top over a black bra. Layla’s braided the front of her hair back so that it won’t be in her face, and as she starts to speak to the crowd as the lights turn on, it reminds me of the braids of a warrior.
“Hello, Cleveland!” Layla yells out as people cheer. I watch for signs of cracks, but there’s none. The energy of the crowd makes her bounce on the balls of her feet, and I can see the fake smile turn feral. “Thank you for the amazing energy, let’s start this out with something worthy of your excitement.”
Layla picks up her guitar without telling any of us the song she’s chosen, and my eyes widen. Oh fuck.
“Someone’s going to be getting her pound of flesh tonight,” Draven growls under his breath so only I can hear him. He picks up the beat as she plays and starts to drum out a beat, and I recognize the notes forRaging Queen.Jumping in, I hear the exact moment when Atlas catches on.
Note: don’t piss Layla off before a show.
Over and over, it’s like a pop quiz in front of two-thousand people as Layla makes us guess her songs. Maybe it’s petty on her part, but there’s a pressure not to fuck this up in front of so many people. It’s also a really fantastic payback. Sink or swim, I guess she’s lumping me in with my friends.
Soon, the four of us are completely in sync as we play, and I notice a pattern to her songs. They’re full of anger, sorrow, and pain. The emotions are big, the words a crooning story of tragedy or a more upbeat song about finding yourself.
Layla has big emotions hiding in herself, and I’m starting to wonder if I was wrong. She never sang like this five years ago. There was emotion, sure, but this frenetic energy in her music didn’t exist.
Are Atlas and I the cause? I’ve seen her draw herself up when we’ve ganged up on her, the way that she’s hesitant about sharing her words with us, and the way Atlas and I could see some of her songs were about us.
Fuck. Why does this have to be so hard?
As the last note disappears into the ether, Layla looks like an entirely different person. It’s as if singing purges the emotional state she was in earlier. There’s still a flint in her eye as she says goodbye and we walk off stage.
Whirling around once we’re backstage, Layla turns and kicks my leg before sweeping them out from under me. It happens so fast, I’m left to gape up at her.
“You don’t know who I am anymore,” she growls. “I’m not the girl you knew, and you don’t know why I do the things that I do. Stop pretending you understand me, asshole. I promise I will put you on your ass every time you say something to me that is the slightest bit derogatory or inappropriate. Enough is enough!”
Layla is breathing hard as she hisses the words out. I can tell she’d rather be screaming at me, and I swallow hard. Everyone has their breaking point, and I think she’s nearing hers. Tyler watches her with worried eyes, but doesn’t come nearer. I get the impression he’ll let her fight her own battles until he feels as if he needs to tap in.
I respect it, but if I were him, I’d already have given myself a bloody nose. I can see why Tyler frustrates Atlas at times. We wouldn’t have the patience to let her flounder or work it out on her own.
“I’m not even remotely done,” I tell her, getting onto my knees. “You’re too soft, you refuse to push back or rock the boat, and it leaves you open to too many issues. Sometimes dangerous ones. Why are you always so damn amenable? I meant it when I say you need to grow a damn backbone, Layla.”
“Mate, I think that’s quite enough,” Draven grunts, anger beginning to bank in his gaze.
“Have you fallen into the spell of her magical pussy too? Isn’t there a fucking fraternization policy in your own contract too?” I yell at him. I know the people out in the crowd can’t hear me. There’s too much other noise. I’m angry for no reason and every reason, which is a dangerous combination for me.
Atlas chews his bottom lip as he watches us, unsure what to say.
“I don’t think I have any say on the magic of my girl’s pussy,” Draven says calmly. The way he says “my girl” makes me realize he’s drawing a line in the sand. “I do know you need to shut the fuck up and take a walk, Mav. The second Layla sheds a tear, I won’t be responsible for my next actions.”
Layla isn’t one to weaponize her tears. She fucking hates crying. I watch her swallow hard as she holds onto her anger, and see it as my cue to leave. A walk sounds like exactly what I need.
“If you dislike the way I handle things, then I think you should take a long, cold look at yourself, Mav,” Layla rasps. “The way you treated me five years ago, your words, it all runs rent free in my head and my heart. Please feel free to take all the blame for it, because I’m sure I wouldn’t be this version of myself if I’d never met you.”
Stumbling to my feet, my jaw drops. I don’t think she could have said anything else that makes me more sick to my stomach. I knew I was responsible for some of her songs, but the way she lives her life is just unhealthy.
