Page 74 of Disharmony

He drops his hands and readjusts his mask. “Fine.”

“You’re an incredible singer,” I compliment. “You should do it more often.”

“Ash, I have a question for you.” He steps closer, making my heart rate speed up. He’s only a few feet away. “Why did you come here today?”

“What do you mean?” I take a step back. “Ripper asked me to come and see you practice.”

“So, you came to see him?”

“Yes. I mean, no… I mean…” I stammer. What does he want me to say? “I wanted to meet all of you. You guys are fucking artists, and I look up to you. Your music… it’s… everything.”

“You should be careful,” he replies bitterly. “Meeting your idols can be a disappointment.”

I frown and cross my arms. “Have I done something to upset you? If this is about my suggestion for you to sing, then I’m sorry I offended you. I was only trying to help.”

“That’s the problem,” Venom says gruffly. “Maybe it’d have been better if you stayed listening to our songs.”

Ouch. That stung. I try not to show it and channel my inner sass. “Are you this much of an ass to all your fans?”

“Not everyone is who they seem, Ash,” Venom says, moving closer. His body is only a few inches from mine. He reaches for my cheek with his gloved hand. My breathing quickens as I stare into the black holes of the mask where his eyes should be. I don’t flinch as he strokes my cheekbone gently, the material is silky and soft against my skin. “Remember that.”

Suddenly, the studio door rattles. Venom tears his hand away and buries it in his pocket, giving me zero time to think about what just happened.

“What are you two talking about?” Ripper asks, leaning in the doorframe. “Ash’s genius?”

Ripper knows how to charm a girl. Although the Basilisks don’t tour often, rumors have circulated the online forums about Ripper hooking up with fans. Not that it matters—I’m only here for the music, right? From our texts, I’ve also seen there’s more to him than the cocky persona he portrays. He’s sensitive and cares what people think more than he lets on. His confidence is a facade.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I murmur bashfully.

“Zed and I were talking about a last-minute function we’re playing tonight. We don’t usually sing at private parties, but this is an exception,” Ripper begins, checking his watch, “It’s a three-hour drive away. What do you say, Ash? Do you want to join us on the road?”

“On the road?” I repeat, not sure whether I’ve heard him right.

“It’d just be for one night,” Ripper says quickly. “We know you’re at Camp Harmony trying to make it as a pop star, but would you like to come on tour with the Basilisks for one night only? We’ll drop you back at your camp tomorrow morning. No one has to know you’re gone.”

My thoughts race a hundred miles an hour. On one hand, this is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. On the other, these are three grown men who are strangers. Can I really leave town with them? I imagine Dad’s reaction; an angry vein would pop out of his forehead, and he’d ground me for life… but I’m a long way from home.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Venom intervenes. “There’s no pressure.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I say. “They have strict rules in Camp Harmony, and I’m not exactly their favorite camper right now. I’ll have to speak to my roommate and see if she will cover for me.”

Is touring with them worth the risk of getting caught breaking the rules? But if I already stand no chance of getting a solo in the final show, or gaining a place in Popstarz, what do I have to lose? Going on the road with the Basilisks is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“As long as you’re with us, we’ll keep you safe,” Ripper promises. “You’ve got my word.”

I spent many of my high school years doing things that most people would argue were downright stupid, like trying to pierce my nipple and almost passing out or tattooing a wonky triangle on my inner foot with a sewing needle. Would spending the night with three men I’ve just met count as the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, even if it feels like I’ve known them for years?

“Let me call her,” I say. “I’ll see what she says.”

My mind is made up. I can’t let this chance slip through my fingers, and I’m a good judge of character. I can trust them.

I pick up my cell to dial Cookie, and the guys return inside to give me privacy.

“Ash?” Cookie answers after the first ring. “How is your date with the mystery man going? Is everything okay, or do you need me to invent an emergency to get you out of it? If so, just say the word laundry.”

I laugh. “Laundry?”

“Laundry!” There’s a bang as she drops something. “Right, I’ll get Declan and we’re getting in the car—”

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