Chapter 1
Killian
It's been a shitty four months. Liam. Milah. College. At least I have my music. Now that I'm on stage I fell the warm lights on me, partially blinding my view. I can't really see their faces but they are swaying to our music, and I just let go. This is where I find my peace. My guitar, Jeph's vocals, Robin's bass, Auggie's drums. Jeph is trying out the ph in his name, thinks it gives him more class or something of the sort. I doubt that it'll last more than a month. We put up with his eccentricities; we are a band that's what you do specially when these guys are all you have left. We are all screwed up, every one of us in their own way. Music is our salvation. The only constant companion I have left.
I feel my fingers drifting from chord to chord. I let the music take over me, and I pour my soul into my guitar.
But somehow a strange magnetism calls me. I raise my head to watch to crowd, all I see is a faceless mass. Some are enjoying our set (almost as much as I am), others are just passing time, and then I see her. My world crashes, collapsing into reality like a bucket of freezing water hitting me. I didn't ask much after Milah broke up with me. All I asked was for her not to show up at our gigs. Of course she ignored me. Shit.
I hadn't seen her in weeks. Perhaps she misses me. Maybe she wants reconciliation. She looks beautiful. No one can deny she is a stylish dresser. With her black leggings and her white Ramones shirtdress and her black studded belt that defines her figure oh so well. I miss her.
As I stare in her direction but I notice she is not alone. There is some guy with her. Damn her! She brought a date to my gig! That bitch! It's like she wont stop until I'm completely broken.
I attempt to go back to the zone. I let Auggie's beat sync with my heart and Jeph's voice to guide me back into oblivion. My guitar shall be the voice that channels my broken heart.
But my release is short-lived. The song is coming to an end and then I'll have to face the harsh reality. F#$* my life!
And the song ends.
I don't wish to join the crowds. I want to stay hidden in my stage. Separated from all the otherness that roams the nooks and crannies of the club.
I offer to put are dœmons back to rest. I know each instrument represents the soul of each of these guys. No one outside the circle is meant to touch them. You shouldn't touch other people's souls, that is just bad form. And so I do my work in silence as I feel the interest of the crowd fade from the figures leaving the stage. Between bands some go about their business: drinks, chat, piss. I become invisible as I fade into the background.
Once again I'm disappointed as I see that my task has ended. To quickly, way too quickly. Back to the world of the living, even though I know I'm dead. I feel ghoulish going through the motions, but that is my life now.
I scan the club for my friends. Auggie, as usual, is surrounded by girls. I can see he is scrutinizing the crowd of gruppies searching for his next victim, someone who will worship him like the rock god that he hasn't become yet. But soon. Some day his idol status will become a reality.
Jeph has once again found himself surrounded by an awkward crowd of hipsters. Boys and girls basking in his peculiar disheveled style learning everything there is to learn of his fashion sense so that they might imitate him in a near future. Trendsetter. Recently he has decided that he'll wear a top hat on top of the explosion he calls hair. God bless him and his eccentric fashion sense. Jeph is all for the drama and the flare when he is around a bunch of strangers, his adoring fans. But I've known the guy for a while; I've seen him without his façade. I've shared his pain. I wish him well.
I walk on, looking for Robin. Since Liam died he has been there for me unconditionally. My second brother, although my heart still aches for the first. But I am thankful that unlike Milah Robin didn't cut me lose. He stayed and helps me deal with my messed up shit. I find him sitting by the bar. He is chatting up some brunette, she seems to have some Latin blood in her. Even though it might not turn into something serious I hope she doesn't hurt him. I don't want to sound selfish, but I wouldn't have the energy to nurse another breaking heart other than my own at this time.
I decide that Robin doesn't need a third wheel as he is seeking to find a connection. I nod to him and give him encouraging thumbs up. I try to appear fine, the same old Killian, but my heart isn't set in preserving this mask. My face drops as I find an empty stool further in the bar. I want to drown my sorrows in rum. I want to feel numb tonight. There are two problems, first I'm underage but that doesn't matter tonight because we are once of the band playing in this outstanding establishment. The second and most important problem is that the bartender insists on ignoring me as he flirts with an enthusiastic read head. Damn. Every one has some one, except for me. I can feel I'm not worth anybody's time. I am broken. Defective. Unworthy.
Somebody shoves my left shoulder and the unexpected body contact wakes me from my spiral down to self-loading. I tilt my head and catch a glimpse of blonde curls. They are colored with pink and blue highlights, product of the bouncing lights in the club. I turn my attention to the owner of this golden mane. She is breathtaking, even with her think rim glasses. I can catch a glimpse of green that dominates the irises of her eyes. She is wearing a red leather jacket, I can't see the shirt that is under it, and the rest of her ensemble consists of a pair of black skinny jeans and combat boots. She seems to be a little spitfire.
"Excuse me," she says casually as she uses the barstool as a platform and my head as a stabilizer. I can feel the fingers of her right hand grasp through my hair as she finds a grip. A loud whistle coming from her lips wakes me from the trance caused by her touch. At the sound the bartender returns into action and heads our way obediently. She leans in to tell him something, but I can't hear what their saying. Before I can order my drink the bartender is already gone. Back to stare into the loving eyes of his red head.
I am left there in this awkward position with the blonde. She seems lost in her own thoughts, but her hand is still on my head and I can fell the heat of her body close to me. I'm not used on having my personal space invaded by strangers, but I don't mind her.
My eye catches the sight of Milah. She is headed towards me with her boy toy at hand. No, I don't want to talk to her. I don't want to see her again. She will not get to how broken I am. I need to put on another mask quickly I need to hide. I turn towards the blonde and raise myself from the seat so that I can see her eye to eye.
"Sorry love," I try to sound as suave as possible, "but would you mind being my girlfriend for the next five minutes?"
Her green eyes stare at me. A roller coaster of emotions goes through them. Confusion. Annoyance. Anger. She removes her hand from my head and prepares her exit. Just as well, even a stranger can tell that I'm not worth the time. I need to get better at acting like a balanced person.
Then, out of the blue, I feel strong hands gripping my collar as she crashed her lips onto mine.
