Before the Gray:

Chapter 11:

Burnt Orange

More than anything else, the apology is apparent on his face. I twist in my seat, his voice stops me, "I'm sorry about Rose, she…" He trails off, he started off strong, now it seemed as though he couldn't find the right words to say.

"No. She's right, I shouldn't be here, it's not my place." Feeling completely deflated, I slide off the barstool. I haven't taken one step before I feel something smooth and cool on my wrist. I turn to see him, reaching far over the glass; his black shirt dimly shimmers over the hazy light.

"Ignore her, your band came to play, so actually your supposed to be here." A smile slid into place where a thin line used to be. "And speaking of your band, I didn't know that you were the lead singer of Eclipse, Rose made such a fuss over you, she couldn't accept the idea of you being a vampire." He laughs a little at the end, I barely manage to stop myself from flinching. I knew he would say something about my changing, but I didn't think it would affect me this badly, or affect me at all. I don't know why I feel like this, like I want to cry, like I wish I wasn't what I am.

I don't say anything, just look at him, he looks away, then into the glass and stares at my reflection. I look down at the glass, its weird how I can look at his image in the glass, if I look into his eyes it's the same as if I was looking at straight at him.

"You should come back."

The reply is on my lips, but before I can add in my voice, his lips part and move and derail my train of thought completely, summoning forth emotion I had banished to the darkest most remote parts of my mind, "Don't you wish to know were you came from?"

I flinch and take a step back but his grip is unrelenting, "How-"

"Trust me." Then he lets go and I walk away, fast. There is a mad rush inside my head where the confusion settles in. Everything around me blurs and collapses in on itself until it is just me and my muddled thoughts.

Outside the door, I stop and put on my mask, the one I recently started wearing around everyone. It's a happy one made of smiles and emotion. Its one that hides my true self and protects it.

When I open the door they don't look at me, for that I am grateful. The attention of my band members instead is on the large T.V. that spans the wall. On the delicate screen images dance across, graceful but fleeting like the careful steps of a dancer, deliberate. I see Asher, his mo-hawk blurring back and forth perfectly in tune to his hands thrashing against the snowy drums. Tan sticks his tool of choice.

I see Aubrey. I hardly recognize him, his eyes glitter, and his face, there are no words to describe the expression on his face. Some where between pain and joy and desire. His hair black as night, falls into his eyes as he sways and rocks and shakes his head along with Asher. He licks his lips earning squeals from fans of both genders who, would kill each other just to touch him, they try. His lips full and inviting mouth the words of the song; the effect is as if he was singing.

Then I see the one singing, she's all glitter and shine. She nods to the beat and shakes her head causing her hair to whip about her face. On a particular note she stops all movement and looks longingly into the crowd, she reaches out as if to grab something. It must have escaped her, for she lowers her hands disappointed and raises her voice louder and louder still maybe out of anger. She grips the microphone as if her life depends on it.

She is flanked by two guitarists who are joined together by their instruments and their similar tunes by split apart by their contrasting appearances. One is all muscle and curly dark hair that rains down to just above his shoulders. His notes are powerful and rush out from between his fingers like water, flooding the whole room, suffocating the silence though it has long died. The other is the bassist, smaller, less violent, but not quiet in the least. He moves the most though jumping and rocking hard to all the noise. His hand punches the air, pinky and index fingers extended, the crowd mimics him jumping and shouting, their arms floating like tall grass swaying in a distraught wind.

I don't realize the small smile has spread across my face until Asher and Seth break out in a contagious laughter, pointing out how stupid the other looks. My lips part against my will and I laugh so loudly and so long, my stomach begins to hurt and there is no sound just my shoulders shaking, and intense feeling almost like heat settling in my chest.

They turn to me, surprised as if they hadn't heard me come in. Then they laugh harder at the ridiculous look I can imagine has distorted my face.

He smells like smoke when he hugs me, his lips are warm and taste sweetly, and his whole body seems to buzz with new energy. Our greeting is cut short by a rustling behind a door down the hall, we break apart and act casual, making small talk of the consort last night.

"….So yeah, I think we really did nail that last song, I mean with it being our first live performance of it." It's almost too obvious, but Aubrey decides to play along anyway, though he can't resist a laugh and trademark smirk.

"You mean we did a damn good job considering you messed up on more than one occasion." This would have been a blush moment; instead, I look away and mumble something vaguely resembling an apology.

I can hear the footsteps behind me, feel the air 'whoosh' out as the human exhales.

Aubrey gives me a look, "What was distracting you anyway?" There is something on the edge of this statement, an accusation. His eyes, there is some emotion lying there, something I can't identify.

"Just thought I saw someone I know-knew." I shake my head and shrug. He doesn't believe me.

I can feel the human staring at the back of my head, the footsteps have stopped, I hadn't noticed. Aubrey releases me and fixes his gaze on the person behind me. My irritation with this girl disappears, as she slices through the tension with her wavering voice. I turn slowly to look at her, her eyes flit to me and then back to Aubrey, her eyes are red rimmed and her hands shake at her sides.

"Have either of you seen Missy?" I raise a brow, Aubrey slips his hands into his pockets and pushes his shoulders back, relaxed. His dark mood seems to have lifted with the change of subject, for that I am grateful. The unsaid words float around the air between us, Missy who?

I smell the salt break out behind her eyes pooling just below her lids and the scent of her tears to be shed leaks out. I can tell she is offended by our lack of interest and knowledge. I feel sorry for her when Aubrey shrugs indifferently.

"Um, Missy?" The name doesn't ring a bell.

"She was the make up artist for your band." She almost sneers this 'your band' as if it is my fault. Her use of past-tense must mean she is desperate but pessimistic about finding her friend. The girl seems to notice this too, and flinches, a tear slips down her cheek, which she hastily wipes away with her stretched out sleeve. This only causes more to flow out, I can hear her breathing becoming uneven and she tries to hold back sobs, her brows pull together and arch upwards.

"Blonde, skinny?" Slowly it is coming to me. "Pretty?" I add on for her sake. The girl nods, and I remember, the girl who didn't show up to do her job last night. Vaguely I remember her, always disappointed because she never had to do much to my face, I never needed make up.

"No, I'm sorry, I haven't seen her. What is your name?" I take a step toward her and wrap my arms around her, as she sobs into her hands, "Holly". We were her last option, clearly. Why ask people who can't even remember her name? She must have anticipated the answer; I comfort her in the midst of her sorrow. Deep within me, in some part of my soul that I cannot recall I sympathize with her, I have felt despair, and my heart aches for her.

De ja vu is a strange feeling. I look back at Aubrey, his eyes are clouded over, he seems lost in thought, and to my complete shock and chagrin he turns and walks away as if nothing is amiss. Anger boils below the surface, and the only thing I can think is 'insensitive jerk'. The annoyance is to be expected but the animosity I feel surprises me.

After half hour of comforting and helping Holly, regain her composure, I join the rest of my band in the studio. Deliberately, I sit in on the black leather couch opposite Aubrey, in the space between Asher and Seth. I come down with a huff, and Seth throws me a look, he looks to Aubrey who shrugs. I roll my eyes, my resentment grows, and piques just by looking at him. I can't hear his voice with out remembering how much of an ass he was before.

With Rick and Dan, we talked about music, our songs, our music and other such tings. I found myself shooting down everyone of Aubrey's suggestions and disagreeing with him on almost every topic. I couldn't control it and I could have laughed every time he glared at me.

I picked at my nail polish until our little briefing was over. "Finally." I mutter under my breath, take a deep breath, and exhale loudly, blowing my bangs out of my face. Rick has annoyed written on his forehead, obviously at my attitude. We file out of the room, I think irritably 'why did he have to choose the room out of the million friggin' rooms that only had one door, one way to get out?'

Suddenly I wish I had been the first out of the room instead of getting up slowly, because I see Aubrey waiting for me. I steel myself for his anger. He grabs my arm roughly when I walk past him, he swings me around to face him. "What?" I say irritated.

"What was all that about?" He says referring to the last half hour.

"What? I'm surprised you noticed, you know with you thick skin and all I didn't know anything would get to you!" Sharp as ever he realizes what I'm accusing him of. And he smiles?!

"Sorry, I didn't mean to dump the cry baby on you." His mouth is pulled up at one corner, a breath taking, heart-breaking attempt, but it doesn't, it won't work on me, not now. I rip my arm out of his grip nearly backhanding him at the same time, I can feel my face screwing up into that of an angry expression and I loose grip on my slippery control. He blinks and takes a step forward to embrace me, but I step back stubbornly.

"That is exactly what I'm talking about! Your such a-" And He cuts me off.

"Don't be mad." He says softly, looking away, at the ground maybe. It can only do so much to damper my anger.

"-insensitive, ego-centric, jerk!" Now there is a thin line, of anger, on his mouth. I take a step to the side, and walk around him.

"Where are you going?"

I stop, and then wonder who (the hell) does he think he is? He is not my father, but he's acting like my keeper.

"Actually," I turn slightly and glare holes into his back, "I think I'll go visit the Cullen's." I leave him with the taste of anger in his mouth.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering Eclipse (Bella's band) is a rock band. It's sounds like a cross between Evanescence, Flyleaf, and Paramore. So, if you want to, you can go check out those bands.