Page 60 of Wild Stars

Being out of the spotlight for the last few years, I’ve gotten better at going incognito, but I have to admit I haven’t done many disguised outings since I moved back in with Hailee.

Honestly, I haven’t done many outings atall, outside of our most recent trips to Fuku and Saint & Sinner.

The streetlights outside The Palace shine down on both of us, and the line outside the door is pretty long.

I turn to my sister, who, without all her makeup and gothic attire, looks like she could still pass as someone in their early twenties.

She’s even forgone her usual extensions.

Fresh-faced with her hair pulled back in a bouncy brown ponytail and dressed in aHeart Killertee and ripped blue jeans, the excitement in her eyes is unmistakable.

The sight reminds me of when we were teenagers going to shows, dreaming of becoming big stars ourselves someday.

Seeing her happy like this...I can’t help but feel nostalgic, and also a little happy myself.

Though I know it isn’t a good time with me, that has her all bright and beautiful.

I might not understandwhatshe sees in Richard Wylde, but how can I judge her...or him...when I can feel her enthusiasm, her energy when he’s around, like a living breathing entity?

“You don’t really expect me to stand in line for an hour, do you?”I taunt her, sliding my hands into my jeans pocket.

I’m most known for my penchant for leather and black—in part because it’s branding, and in part because it helps mefeelmore dominant—but I prefer jeans and converse to sweatpants or trousers when I’m dressing down.

Though Dare can pull off just about anything, it seems.Ripped jeans, gray sweatpants, form fitting suit slacks...

Hailee shoots me a smirk.“You really going to tell me you wouldn’t wait in line for an hour to get a glimpse of Dare with his microphone between his legs?”

It is my turn to look appalled.

“Absolutely not!”I say deadpan, as she rolls her eyes.

“Uh huh, sure.Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,Matty.”She flashes me with a wink.

“Do not call me that,” I snap, just as a security guard approaches us.

“Follow me,” he says, and with that I am relieved.

My sister takes off like a rocket after him, leaving me no choice but to follow along.

We follow the man to the inside of the venue, to a private section on the left of the floor.There are only about ten seats in our section, already filled with individuals who must be of some importance, but that I don’t recognize.Most of them, women.

Hailee immediately strikes up a conversation with the women beside us as the crowd starts to fill in, and I can’t help but take in the sight of their sold out show.

When the lights go down, the crowd roars as the spotlights dance.Dare’s voice carries over the loudspeakers asking his crowd if they are ready to be slayed.They roar in reciprocation as the lights flash, and some basic pyrotechnics go off.

Somewhere between the fire and the screeching guitars, Dare Wylde shows his true colors.He sings and he laughs with his crowd, tantalizing them with his infectious energy and a confidence that is undeniable.

And I realize as I watch him take the microphone stand between his legs, bending over as he cradles the mic itself, and his dark gaze catches mine, that I too am being slayed.

Because as I watch him command the audience and his stage, I can’t deny the fact that despite my insistence, Dare Wylde has poisoned my blood.

With his bratty attitude and his fiery kiss, with his dramatic flair, his love handles, and so much more.

The realization strikes me and renders me frozen, like a glacier.

Because for the first time in a long time, Ilongto be broken.

To be destroyed by aHeart Killer.

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