Page 88 of Disharmony

Time slows down, and the red fluorescent lights dim. The song builds to its climax, and Venom climbs onto the sofa and stands. Thankfully, Buggy is tall enough that his head doesn’t hit the ceiling. He roars along with the song, piercing the air with a beautiful high note.

With that, our waltz turns into a jumping rave. The four of us yell out the lyrics. My hair whips around my face as Buggy rocks with our dancing. We laugh and down a row of shots together. This is even better than the performance in The Smoker as my guard melts and my inhibitions fade away.

How many times in your life do you get the chance to party with the best metal band on earth?

thirty

Ripper

Watching her sing and dance is mesmerizing. She knows all our words, even to the songs we haven’t sung in years that I’ve almost forgotten the lyrics to myself after too many sleepless nights partying.

Usually, at this point in the night after a Basilisk gig—or a Lionheart one, for that matter—I’m so high that I’ll fuck anything that moves, then crash out in my coffin to be woken by Venom holding a cup of strong coffee. Being around Ash is different. With her, I don’t need the drugs. Her presence is addictive enough.

The smell of her peach shampoo rushes past as Venom picks her up and throws her into the air. I almost tell him to be careful, but she throws her head back and laughs in delight. The sound of her pure elation stops me from intervening. Even Zed has softened and can’t resist her charm. He’s been an ass all day, but that’s one of his defense mechanisms, not that he’ll ever admit it.

Have I been blind to the fact my bandmates have been watching her too? It’s hard not to notice her in a camp filled with people who either worship us or are trying to be clones of everyone we know, and hate, in the industry.

“Shit!” Ash squeals as she loses her balance. She topples into Venom and sends a drink flying, soaking them both.

Venom unzips his one-piece and rolls it down to his waist like a wet suit. I worry she’ll recognize him, but his chest tattoos are always fully covered in our Lionheart videos. If anything, the ink will help to disguise his identity more. The tattoos on his stomach swirl around a three-inch diagonal scar from where he was stabbed. It’s a permanent reminder of the worst night of his life.

As well as the ink on his torso, his arms are covered with raised white and pink scars. We all have our demons. We share a lot with each other, but there are still some things we don’t talk about. It’s easier to hide from your demons than face them—or you can drown them out in other ways.

Ash gasps as she sees his body, and Venom’s shoulders tense. Unlike me, Venom didn’t sleep around. He’s a true romantic; it’s the fucking poet in him. I can’t remember the last time he slept with someone. The guy has had a better relationship with his right hand than any woman.

He spots a black hoodie and dives to grab it. It’s a relic from an old tour with our unmistakable logo: an inverted crucifix behind a snake with an open mouth. Ash stops him as he goes to put it on. He jolts at her touch, but she’s gentle and his expression softens at the look in her eyes. I almost feel like an intruder on an intimate moment, until I remember she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.

She strokes his forearm, sliding her fingers up his arm to touch his scars. Venom doesn’t wince, he just stares with wide shocked eyes, like he can’t believe what’s happening. Neither can I, or Zed, judging by the way he’s holding a breath.

“You don’t need to hide them in front of me,” Ash whispers. “Scars make us who we are.”

“Maybe.” Venom shrugs. “But most people don’t like looking at them.”

Ash’s hands fly to the button on her shorts. My heart skips a beat as she undoes it and pulls down the zipper. Desire shoots straight down to my cock. Our music is still blaring, but the sound of the denim slipping down her thighs is all I can hear.

“What are you—” Venom can’t finish his sentence and swallows hard, making his Adam’s Apple bob wildly.

Ash steps out of her shorts to stand in black panties with delicate lace around the edges. My eyes fly to something else: the scars covering the top of her thighs. They’re everywhere, and they aren’t as old as Venom’s. Some are still angry and irritated.

“See?” Ash says as Venom draws a sharp intake of breath as he sees them. “You’re not the only one with scars.”

For someone who blushes easily, Ash doesn’t seem phased about standing almost half-naked in front of us. Her urge to reassure Venom outweighs any embarrassment. She is showing her vulnerability, and fuck, if it doesn’t make me want her more…

I want to trail my tongue up the delicate skin of her thighs and kiss her scars. I want to show her how beautiful she really is, so she never wants to hurt herself again. Her scars only confirm what I already know. She’s one of us. Broken and fucked up… but she’s not afraid to embrace that side of her and show it to us.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Venom mumbles, tearing his eyes back to her face.

I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“I know,” Ash says fiercely, “but I wanted to.”

“What else do you want to do?” Zed asks.

It’s a loaded question.

There is a fizzling tension in the air I’m not sure how to break. What happens next? Where do we go from here? I know what I want to do. If I had it my way, I’d scoop Ash into my arms, make Venom and Zed disappear, and pleasure her until she’s screaming my name. I’ve watched her come undone when she sings, but I want to see her come undone in another way…

“What do you think I want?” Ash answers in a low, sultry voice. I like how she deflects. Most people are intimidated by Zed’s attitude, but she isn’t afraid to challenge him.

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