Page 41 of Disharmony

Conor looks horrified as she says yes. A tiny girl like her will get thrown around like a rag doll in the pit, but her eyes light up as she follows him.

“Wait,” Conor shouts, diving in after her and almost getting elbowed in the face by a crazy tall giant who looks like a Viking.

I’m not joining them. Not yet, anyway. I stare up through the mist at the three men who have shaped me. Seeing them in the flesh is like having fictional characters come to life. The Basilisks have impacted my life in so many ways, but they have no idea I exist.

Instead of moshing, I sing their lyrics back to them at the top of my lungs, punching my fist in the air. Time slows down as I scream and whip my hair around. McCallister would have a heart attack if he saw me. Cookie jumps up and down by my side. For someone who doesn’t usually listen to heavy music, she’s really getting into it.

I need to give her the full experience.

“Cookie,” I yell over the sound of Ripper’s banging drums and hold out my hand. I grin, nudging my head toward the jostling bodies. “You coming?”

“Hell yeah!”

I pull her in, and craziness sweeps us away like a rough tide. We’re torn apart, and Cookie gets carried away in the other direction. She seems to be able to hold her own. I shove into guys three times my size and get pushed back like we’re inside a pinball machine. I’ve never enjoyed exercise, but I could get used to this.

Another song comes to an end, and Zed screams. “Are you fucking ready?”

Everyone roars back. His guttural growl gives me goosebumps.

The Basilisks music flows through my veins, along with the alcohol, to give me a new elevated energy.

A big guy shoulders past and almost sends me flying. Conor catches me at the edge of the pit and pulls me out.

“Are you okay, Ash?” he asks.

Declan is by his side, and both of their expressions are filled with concern. If Brick were here, he’d hang out with the twins. They may like the Basilisks lyrics, but this isn’t their scene.

“Okay?” I repeat. I throw my head back and laugh. Declan starts to mumble something about concussion, but I intervene. “I’m fucking brilliant.”

I want the night to last forever.

* * *

The crowd roars for the final time as the Basilisks leave the stage.

“That was awesome,” Leila pants. Cookie nods enthusiastically in agreement as we all come together again in a group. Conor’s shoulders relax as he sees she ditched the emo guy during the set. “Who wants a final drink for the road? I’m still in the mood to party.”

“Yes,” Conor says quickly.

He seems more comfortable now the show has finished.

“I’m just gonna step outside for some air,” I say, wiping sweat from my brow. After the moshing, I need to cool down. “I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Adrenaline buzzes through me as I make my way to the exit. A few drunk guys are starting to fight, so I decide to find another way out. I wander along a narrow corridor, past the restrooms and pause to check out the posters on the wall of bands that have played here before.

“Finally,” I murmur as I turn a dark corner and feel a cool breeze coming from behind the gaps in a door frame.

It’s not labeled as an exit, but I walk through anyway. I gulp in the fresh air and lean against the brick wall, letting the door close behind me. It’s a small private courtyard and lit with a single dim spotlight. There’s no one else around.

A male voice speaks from the shadows. “Did you enjoy the show?”

It is unnaturally deep and echoey, almost like he’s speaking through Darth Vader’s mask. What did Dad say about staying safe, Ash? My hands go straight to my purse, and I ruffle around until my fingers are safely wrapped around my pepper spray. If he wants to try something, I’ll be ready.

“Looking for something?” the voice asks, sounding as amused as a machine can.

I spin, looking for the source of the speaker.

A figure steps out of the darkness, and my heart stops. I’m tall for a woman at five foot ten, but he’s at least four inches taller. Blood rushes to my cheeks as I become conscious of the pocket watches ticking.

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