Page 37 of The Masks We Wear

But you know you’re not in danger when you look in my eyes

The beat I created on the drums for this song plays with it and I know it’s still missing something, thatsomethingbeing the sounds of Aria’s guitar and Ivory’s bass, but I accept that the song will never hear their melodies or chords. Not after this tour and not after our contract is up. I’m sure when it ends, they’ll be finished with me too.

I feel a twinge of pain in my chest for the song that will never be finished. It would’ve been my first song I’ve ever written completely in both lyrics and melodies. I let the first verse play on a loop in my head and then suddenly, more words start coming to me.

Another curtain closes and the drugs funnel in

The darkness is our only sign it’s time to begin

I see him, temptation of his own watching me, is he real?

Just one look from him and I know I’ve lost

The words just come to me and I play them together in my head, verse one and verse two. It still needs a chorus between them, but what’s important and impressive to me, is that I was able to create these on my own. That I, Brody Drake, horrible user of words, was able to come up with lyrics and the world will never hear them.

My headache eases only slightly but the exhaustion creeps in. I push the drain in the bathtub with my foot and it makes a loud popping sound as water begins to disappear down the drain. I rise and grab a towel from the side of the tub, wrapping the fluffy fabric around myself. I step out of the tub, wiping the flyaway hairs from my face and pushing them up towards the messy bun of black and blond hair on my head.

The exhaustion weighs so heavy, I’m almost confident I can finally sleep. I traipse out of the bathroom and into the bedroom in search of my suitcase. I stop when I find that it’s open. It was closed when I left, I was almost certain. I never leave my suitcase open because I have a lot of expensive things in it, mostly jewelry.

I drop to my knees and rustle through it, in search of pajamas. I probably left it open by mistake. My mind has been scrambled all day and I wasn’t paying close attention to anything else. I find a pair of black sweat shorts and a matching crewneckand toss it to the bed. I rustle around, in search of a pair of underwear but frown when I don’t find any in my suitcase. My assistant packs my suitcases for me and she has never once forgotten to send me on a trip with underwear. Maybe I put my underwear in a drawer without noticing?

I open the drawers and search for my belongings, but I find them all empty. Something doesn’t feel right. An eerie feeling washes over me and I hug my shoulders, unsure what to do. Maybe I can call Selene. I know it’s late but she’s usually up at this time. The woman runs on no sleep and is fully functional at all hours of the day. I’m sure she’ll be able to help me.

I walk over to the nightstand in search of my phone but stop when I realize it isn’t there. My brows pull together and I freeze. I left my phone charging before I got in the bath. I left it righthereexcept it’s not here now. Something is seriously wrong.

No, I’m just overreacting, right? Everything is fine. We have loads of security in the hotel and nothing could go wrong. I’ve never felt unsafe on a tour or in a hotel. This has to be my exhaustion creeping up on me and playing games. I’m just paranoid and mentally exhausted and that’s why I can’t remember where I left my phone or my underwear.

I force myself to inhale a deep breath and exhale, forcing the anxiety to leave me and the tension to ease from my shoulders as the breath leaves my lips. I’m just overreacting and I’m being paranoid for nothing. I convince myself of it and just when I feel somewhat at ease, something wraps around my waist and pulls me into a firm wall and covers my mouth in a tight grip. I try to scream, but the sound won’t leave my lips because of the hand over my mouth. Thehand. Oh my God, someone is in my room. Someone is touching me.

I try to wriggle away, using all of my strength while also trying to hold my towel around my body. The danger of my situation creeps in and I panic, completely taken away by fear. I needto form a plan and fast. If I manage to get out of this hold, the likelihood of me being able to run to the door without him catching me first is poor. If I can manage to find something to use as a weapon, my chances may be better. All I would have to do is run across the hall to Harvey’s room.

I stomp on my attacker’s boot with all of my strength, but it doesn’t do much to the booted foot. He growls in my ear, annoyed with my feeble attempt at freedom, and grabs both of my arms, tossing me down on the mattress so hard, the wind gets knocked out of me. I try to kick him away as my hands shake and tremble while I search for the ends of the towel to hold it in place. I look up and finally lay my eyes on the attacker. It’s the man with the oily smile from the lobby. My eyes widen in pure terror and I open my mouth to scream but he leaps on top of me and grabs my throat in his calloused palm.

He squeezes my throat tight enough that no sound will escape me and I try to scratch and slap him away but he pins me down and doesn’t react to my attempts. He leans in close to my face and I wince away from him as his hot breath fans my cheek. “Try to scream and I’ll kill you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as tears start forming. I’m going to die in this hotel room. I’m going to be another rockstar that died young and I’ll have been murdered while my friends sleep down the hall and Harvey across from me. I’ll have died with my friends hating me and my fans giving up on me. “You weren’t supposed to leave the bathroom so quick. I would’ve just taken your shit and left but you just had to come out while I was in here. You did this to yourself,” I keep my eyes closed but I can hear the arrogant smirk in his voice.

He’s robbing me. That’s why my stuff wasn’t where I left it but that doesn’t explain where my underwear went. Not unless he pocketed the lacy pieces of fabric for himself. My stomach churns at the thought and the idea that he could be here forsomething other than my valuables has bile threatening to rise up my throat. “You stay there and keep your pretty mouth shut, and I’ll be on my way. You scream or try to run, and I’ll kill you, got it?” He squeezes my throat a little harder to make his point and my eyes shoot open as my air supply gets cut off.

I nod aggressively just so he’ll release me and he does, very slowly. He slowly lifts himself off me and steps away from the bed and I gasp for air. Goosebumps rise on my skin as his cold eyes wander over the exposed skin of my thighs. I squeeze my legs together and hold the towel tighter as he starts to rustle through my drawers. My breaths are rapid with fear and I try my hardest to come up with a plan to survive. I refuse to be another rockstar who dies young. You won’t see Brody Drake on the news later or a trending hashtag that reads “RIPBRODYDRAKE.” I will not die in this hotel and not in this state of mind. A million mistakes I’ve made filter through my mind and all I feel in this moment is regret and a sense of determination. I need a plan and I need to execute it so well that he doesn’t get the chance to kill me.

He turns to look at me over his shoulder with a raised, bushy black brow and I freeze. Satisfied with my obedience, he continues going through my items. I look at the door and then at him and I make my decision then. The only thing I can do is scream loud enough and hope Harvey, or someone hears me because he stands in the pathway of the door. I’d never be able to get out, but someone else may be able to get in. Harvey has access to my room via room key.

I send a silent prayer up to whatever God is watching over me and vow to right my wrongs if I make it out of this alive. I lean up slowly, and suck in a deep breath. I take the biggest risk I’ve ever made and scream at the top of my lungs, loud enough to wake up the entire hotel. My scream gets cut off a second later by him slapping me across the face so hard that my head spinsand I see stars. He snaps, grabbing my throat and squeezing hard once more. “You stupid bitch!” he growls as he leans in.

There’s a banging on my door a second later and I relax only a small fraction. It has to be Harvey. I’ve never been so desperate to see him in my life. Tears roll down my cheeks as he panics, looking between me and the door. He loses all sense of control and slaps me again, “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Harvey

I WASN’T ABLE TOsleep. Not after I saw the broken look on her face caused by none other than her alleged “best friends.” I’ve been treating her like shit. I’ve been aware of it. I don’t want to treat her this way. I don’t want to ignore her and I don’t want to treat her this way but I have no choice. She’s forbidden to me, a client. I signed a contract and when that contract is up, I’ll go home to Nevada and she’ll go back to living her out of control life in LA. We’ll go back to being strangers because Brody Drake and I were never meant to exist in the same world, we’re opposite each other in every way like the sun and the moon. She rises when I fall, the night to my day. So then, why does it always feel like I’m leaving a piece of myself behind when I walk away from her?

I’ve been tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep because every time I close my eyes all I can see or think of is the sight of her perfect face, streaked with tears. I was proud of her for having the strength to walk away. It finally feels like she’s changing for the better and I’m impressed with her and proud of her for how far she’s come. I’m even prouder that her friends weren’t able to push her to temptation tonight.

I continue to toss and turn, worry for her creeping into my chest the entire time. I almost give in and walk across the hall, demanding to make her feel better in the only way I know how to, but I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t treat her like atoy and I never wanted to do that to her or hurt her so I stay in my unfamiliar bed with these unfamiliar sheets and these beige, unfamiliar walls.

It isn’t until somewhere past one in the morning that my eyes start to grow tired and I feel sleep creeping in on me. Just when I’m about to close my eyes, and just when sleep is about to find me, a piercing scream comes from across the hall. From Brody’s room. My eyes widen immediately, and I leap out of bed, running towards her door without question. My heart sinks with every anxious step I take at the very possibility that something could be terribly wrong, that she could be hurt in some way.

I swing my door open and try to open her door but it’s locked from the inside. I quickly run back to my room and grab the spare key I have to her room and hurry back across the hall. Her room has gone silent, no more screams coming from inside. The silence terrifies me. I slam her door open, barging into her room and quickly scanning my surroundings. I hear a scuffling noise and a growl that sounds masculine. Pain shoots through my chest at the idea that there’s another man in here with her, doing things to her that I’ve done, but then I remember the sound of her scream, and all possibilities of it being a consensual hookup vanish. I continue into the suite, closer to her bedroom, completely confused. The room is completely silent, almost as if she was never in here.

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