Page 66 of Disharmony

Venom shrugs with a quiet confidence, making me want to shake him. “I just do.”

“Don’t pretend you know anything about her,” I snarl.

We don’t know her motives and can’t trust anyone outside of this room. Am I the only one who understands that secrecy is what has enabled us to live a double life all these years? Besides, Ripper and Venom don’t know Ash like I do.

They haven’t watched as she channels her anger through drumsticks like she’s hellbent on bringing the world down. That, and her having the voice of an angel doesn’t change facts. None of us really know anything about Ashley Cooper. She’s as much a mystery to us as we are to her.

My skin heats from the anger rising in my chest at the thought of Ripper sneaking around. He’s betrayed our trust. He should never have crossed the line and blurred our two lives together. We have to keep them separate and maintain boundaries. It’s the only way we’ll stay sane.

Ash represents the dangerous unknown. The girl from a small town with a full-ride scholarship to Camp Harmony has no connections. She doesn’t come from a famous family. From what I’ve observed, she doesn’t even try to fit in. She does the opposite of what people expect and refuses to conform, even if it goes against what’s good for her.

“She’s different,” Ripper murmurs.

“She’s a mistake waiting to happen,” I correct. “And if anything goes wrong, I’m holding you responsible.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Ripper says. “I’ve been careful.”

“You need to cancel.” My fists clench at my sides. “She can’t be here.”

Ripper steps toward me.

“I haven’t seen you this agitated in a long time,” he purrs, running a finger down my chest and making my ass clench. “What’s wrong, Zed? Are you jealous you’ll have to share my attention?”

“No,” I growl. Giving into Ripper’s desires after a drunken night on tour has only inflated his giant ego. We’ve shared girls before, but never done anything alone… until that night, and he won’t let me forget it. “This is about more than her, it’s about who we are. She could ruin everything. We don’t know her.”

“But that’s why I invited her. Don’t you want to find out more about her?” Ripper asks. His wild streak will be the end of us if Ash Cooper doesn’t figure out our secret first. His voice softens, “What’s the worst that can happen? She only wants to listen to our music.”

“You’re only kissing her ass because she likes your lyrics.” Venom crosses his arms, the way he always does when he’s in a sulk. He’s our lyrics master, and someone complimenting Ripper’s work must have bruised his ego. “Your lyrics don’t even make sense.”

“See?” I throw my arms in the air. “This is the point I’m making. She’s not arrived yet, and she’s already causing a rift between us.”

“Just give her a chance,” Ripper says, then holds his hands up. “Why don’t we make a deal? If today doesn’t go well, I’ll cut all contact with her.”

Venom snickers. All of us know what he’s thinking. We can’t exactly stop all contact when our shadow selves are mentors in a camp filled with fame hungry wannabe’s.

“You know what I mean,” Ripper snaps. “Think of today as our way of helping an aspiring musician. There’s more to Ash than what she shows in camp, and I want to get to know her.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose as the image of her singing floods my mind.

Ash does have something special.

I saw it from the night she covered our song at the lake.

Her voice is beautiful but restrained. An untamed wilderness waiting to be awakened. When we were together in the recording studio, she was angry, but she was still holding something back, and part of me wants to be the one to unlock it to see what she’s hiding.

Ripper’s cell buzzes. He looks at the screen and grins. “She’s almost here.”

“Fuck,” I curse.

Venom reaches for his favorite mask to put on. It looks like a skull and has huge teeth etched into the white marble surface which spans from the base of his jaw to his nose. I don’t have the heart to tell him that it makes him look like an angry albino pumpkin instead of a skeleton. Masks are great to hide our identity, but they suck to sing in—even if we’ve gotten used to it over time.

“Today is about experimenting,” I remind them. “We need to get down the new material and see if it works. We’re not going to want an audience when we really perform.”

I pick up my own mask and secure it in place.

Masks aren’t the only precaution we take to hide our identities. Over the years, we’ve become experts in changing our voices, altering our walking stance, and mastering disguises. Despite our measures, it doesn’t mean this is risk-free…

A gentle knock at the door makes our heads spin around.

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