Page 28 of Beneath Cherry Blossom Memories

The song comes to an end, the last one left to play. Jorge bends to grab his water and faces me. I can tell he wants to ask what is going on but can’t currently. I shake my head a little and smile, hoping that’s enough to get him to back off until I can explain—or not. He’s my best friend, but he doesn’t need to know everything. Or maybe I’m protective over this attention I’m getting. Who knows anymore? I’m tired of trying to figure it out.

It’s been weeks of this shit.

Glancing at Eli and wetting my lips, I catch his jaw clenching, eyes trailing over the parts of me he can see. When he leans forward a bit, rests his hands on the stage, and cocks his head, a quiver racks my stomach.

My mind goes straight to the gutter, too. He looks as if he’s cornered his prey and ready to eat. My throat tightens as I suck in a breath, grabbing my sticks. Jorge announces the song, I kick off the beat, and I don’t even bother hiding my smirk when Jorge mouthswhat the fuckin my direction.

Eli

Filthy Design

Iknew texting Phoenix about ending things with Leon would do the trick.

It wasn’t a lie. I do intend to end it. I just don’t know when. Going home…can’t happen. As much as I pretend it’s an option, it isn’t. And until I break through this wall Phoenix has built between us, I’m fucked.

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding here? This is fun. This is exactly what I need.

Every time he looks down at me, our connection intensifies. I watch his lean muscles flex while alternating between drums and feel his feet working the bass drums with speed. I’d honestly let him fuck me. His stamina is god-like, and as fun as it was to convince him he’s a secret cockslut, I’m curious about the side of him I never explored. Phoenix always topped before me.

I finally got the right meds, so I feel okay tonight. My head is quiet, and my sole focus is Phoenix.

I let my eyes explore him, let them project what I’m thinking. He keeps playing like he’s unaffected, but I know that’s bullshit. It’s in the subtle way his stomach sucks in with his breaths—how he keeps finding me in the crowd. The way he bangs his head because he knows it turns me on.

Tease.Little tease.I fucking love it.

They are playing my song again, as they do every show, and I pull my hair out of the bun it's been in. People bump into my back, getting rowdy and eager for more music.

Phoenix stares while I run my fingers through it, looking up through my lashes at him. Oh, he’s down to fuck. The poor thing is probably backed up like crazy. As the song rises to a crescendo, nearing its end, I jerk my chin towards the backstage area. He fumbles his footing for a split second before righting himself. I smile and weave through the crowd. Flustering Phoenix is probably one of my favorite things to do, I swear.

How I’ve gone this long without this feeling is mind-boggling.

He both silences my pain and coaxes all my desires just by existing. And when he’s caught in my orbit, circling me and waiting for gravity to pull him closer, I know true peace. I don’t think it’s the same for him, though. Too late to stop it. He’s been pushed into my trajectory. We’re going to crash. We’re going to smolder and smoke.

I can’t wait.

Flashing the security guard my wristband, he nods me along and through the door to where my current problem sits. Leon lights up when I enter the space. I know what I’m about to do, and somewhere in my head, I realize I shouldn’t—that I should practice some restraint, somedecency. Am I really that cruel?

“We’re Dreadful. Thanks for coming out! Let’s hear it for the other bands tonight.”

I don’t have time to debate it. Phoenix is going to take down his kit, and I have every intention of stealing him after.

“There you are,” Leon coos, gesturing for me.

Strolling over to him and lowering myself on the couch, I kiss him quickly and say, “I’m heading to the hotel.”

“Again?”

“I need to film.”

He pouts but nods. “Okay. Will you stay next time?”

Therightanswer would be yes. If I had to dissect my decisions lately—which I don’t need to—I guess Leon is a means to an end. I knew he was into guys and would go on tour with Dreadful. I also knew that if I played my cards right, I’d end up on it with him because reaching out to Phoenix seemed too hard then. I couldn’t see his face, you know? I couldn’t feel him or gauge where his head was at.

“I don’t know,” I say, honest for once in what feels like years. The sentence sickens me, so I tack on, “Got bills to pay. People will lose interest if I don’t put out new content.”

“If you need help–with money, I mean. You know I’m here. Anything you need.”

Bile launches up my throat. Since when did I grow a fucking conscience?

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