Page 52 of Disharmony

She doesn’t realize how fucking beautiful she is.

When the music starts and her body moves, I’m captivated. She holds my interest and makes me want to know what she’s thinking. How am I bewitched by an eighteen-year-old woman? I’ve fucked the most gorgeous women on earth and left before morning, but her? She’s different.

I’m not the only one who has noticed her. She stood out among the crowd at our concert. She had a wild abandon in her eyes when she sang our songs back to us that drew me in like a magnet. Under my goggles, she was the only person I was looking at.

How would she feel if she knew I was watching her now?

She’s starting to relax after a few drinks. I notice how she laughs a lot when she’s around the girl with crazy hair. Whoever she is, I decide I like her, but I can’t ignore the stab of jealousy twisting in my gut. I want to be the one to make her smile.

I should leave. I should go and leave her to have fun with her friends. But I can’t tear myself away, no matter how hard I try. If the others knew I was here, they’d flip out. It’s too risky and dangerous.

I pull out my cell and type another message to her, desperate to get another fix. The lyrics she shared with me are the words of someone who is lonely. Misunderstood. Lost. She’s hiding who she is to the world.

We are the same.

I should never have given her my number.

I knew it was wrong but couldn’t help myself.

I hate myself as I press send. I hate that I crave her attention but can’t deny myself the fix she gives me. I was starting to fear she’d never contact me after the gig and started to think of other ways I could get close to her, but this is easier.

Texting her all day has made me feel more inspired than I’ve been in years. She’s lit an energy inside me I haven’t felt since I wroteLion Slayer. Artists talk about having a muse, and I’ve always thought it was bullshit… until now.

When I look at her swinging hips, the way the fabric of her top rises to show her navel piercing, and how she closes her eyes as she sings, I know I could watch her forever and never get bored.

What is she doing in this place? She’s so much more than this commercially farmed factory of clones. She is better than all of them.

Ash breaks away from the group to stand at the lakes edge. She dips a toe in the water, then steps out further, letting it lap around her ankles. Her skin looks like white china under the moonlight. Black eyeshadow has smudged under her eyes, and I want to reach out to smear it and trace my fingers over her cupids bow. She checks her cell, and her pouty lips curl into a smile as she reads my message. It shouldn’t make me feel so happy… but it does.

I press my back into the tree. It’s dark, so no one can see me, but I can’t take any chances.

I scowl as one of the ginger twins beckons her to return to the party. A possessive surge bursts through me as he grabs her hand and takes her back to dance. What the fuck is happening to me?

My jealousy calms as I notice how her smile is different when she looks at him. It’s different than when she read my message. That makes me feel better.

fourteen

Ash

Why is the fire so hot?

Cookie’s arm rubbing against my own makes my skin tingle with warmth, then another wave of something washes over me. Am I supposed to feel super happy? I feel fine… but what’s that over there?

The fire is bright, and dancing bodies blur together. My emotions catapult from one extreme to the other, going from elation to lost and confused. Sparks look like baby fairies leaping from the flames. They rush by me, and I reach out my hand.

“Hey,” Leila jerks me back. “Come dance with me.”

For the first time since I met her, she looks relaxed. Her hair is flicking all over the place as we dance together and belt out the lyrics of one of her best mixed tape songs.

“You’re so talented,” I shout over the music.

Cookie laughs, running along the water’s edge, holding her kaftan out like wings. She looks like a magical butterfly. I can see why people take molly if it makes them feel like this. My inhibitions are lower, and my anxieties are melting away. Everything is so great, right? Camp Harmony is the perfect place. We’re in heaven on the lake with the moon, fire, and music.

Everything is fine for a minute, then Leila stops dancing.

Her face falls and she murmurs, “Fuck...”

It takes me a few seconds to register why she’s stopped moving and is staring across the sand. Conor’s arms are wrapped around Tiffany’s waist. From his wide smile and spacey eyes, he’s high as fuck. Tiffany, on the other hand looks completely sober.

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