Page 35 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

She grabs on to my arm. “No! No, you have to be there. Please? You don’t have to stay all night. Just come for an hour or two.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and look away, knowing my resolve is already failing.

“There’ll be lots of hot guys there,” she probes.

Sighing, I nod, unable to resist Becks’s charm. “Well . . . where is it again?”

Clapping her hands together, she bounces on the stool. “It’s at The Drop. Do you know it?”

The Drop is a huge open-air theater down by the wharf, named for the massive drop ledge and view of the bay. “Yeah, I do.”

She nudges my shoulder. “Perfect. Nine o’clock and look hot. Not that you don’t already, but they’ll probably be taking pictures and stuff.”

“I don’t think anyone will compare next to that album cover photo of you,” I say, tipping it toward her. “Yowza.”

She giggles behind her hand as our professor clears her throat for class to begin.

“Just make sure my name is on the guest list this time, okay?” I say.

Climbing out of the taxi,I readjust my dress—a red strapless number with some gorgeous ruching over my butt and a hem that hits mid thigh. I piled my hair on top of my head in an elaborate twist to show off as much skin as possible, keeping my neck bare but donning a large pair of silver hoop earrings. The moment I step toward The Drop, it’s abundantly clear that I’m overdressed. Most people here are in denim and leather jackets, long hair and mullets with big mustaches and patchy beards. Band T-shirts with demons and pentagrams as far as the eye can see. Me in my red dress? I stick out like a sore thumb. Why didn’t I at least wear black?

Several men’s eyes from the line turn to look at me, but Iwon’t shrink away. I roll my shoulders back and smile as I approach the bouncer at the door. Another massive man, he gives me an appraising look up and down as I come to stand in front of him.

“Hi, I should be on the list,” I say, thankful my voice sounds confident and steady this time. “Isabella Rodriguez.” I swear, if Becks forgot to put me on the list again, I might just die right here and now.

The bouncer consults his list, and when he sees my name, checks me off, then steps back to move the red velvet rope. “Go right on in, Miss Rodriguez.”

Tension melts off my shoulders as I enter the darkened club. There’s a large space with tall tables and stools, each one lit by a small candle, flanked by a bar that must be thirty feet long and accessible from all sides like an island made of booze. Bartenders hurry to and fro inside the enclosure as people shout out their drink orders. Just beyond that, the roof opens up to the night sky and in the distance, I can see a raised platform stage. Then there’s the drop.

“Right, first things first,” I say, heading for the bar. A little liquid courage will get me through this night. After a few minutes waiting for a whiskey sour amongst the crowd, I begin to look for Becks. It doesn’t take me long to find her, nuzzled up to James at a booth just under the canopy of the roof.

“Isabella!” she cries, spotting me and waving me over toward her seat. She’s wearing a silver halter dress under a cropped leather jacket that looks like it might have at one point belonged to a man.

“Oh my god, you look incredible!” I say, reaching the table and giving her a hug.

“Doesn’t she, though?” James smiles. “So glad you could make it.”

I smile. “Becks promised it wasn’t something to be missed.”Taking a place opposite them, I sip on my drink, my lips pursing at the sour taste.

“Becks tells me you’ve been super busy at the paper,” he says, leaning forward so his dark curly hair brushes the top of the table.

Nodding, I steal a glance at Becks. When I told her I was busy, I hadn’t mentioned the unfair treatment of becoming the unofficial secretary, nor the additional editing work I’d been “entrusted” with, which forced me to set back the work for all my other classes.

“Everyone wants more information about Carnal Sins,” I say brightly. “And I’ll continue to give the people what they want.”

James grins wide. “Well, whatever you need. Don’t hesitate to ask. We really appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“Walton,” a voice calls. Turning, I see the bassist, Joel, running up to our table. “Come on, the place is filling up and Al wants us to do that grand entrance. Oh. Hey, Isabella.”

I wave, and he wraps his arms around my shoulders for a quick squeeze. James slides out of the booth, before turning back to me. “Take care of my girl, okay?” he asks.

“Of course.”

Once he’s out of sight, Becks’s grin fades. “Holy moly, I’m so nervous,” she confesses, grasping at her chest.

“Don’t be,” I reassure her, reaching across the table to take her hand. “They’ve done dozens of performances by now.”

She nods a bit frantically. “I know but . . . now everything is happening and the EP is out. And it’s so fast. I feel like they only took my picture for the album cover yesterday.”

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