Page 18 of Revel
Thankfully, before he can pry further and interrupt me drooling over Revel, he turns his attention to his manager who’s been looking for him. My focus cuts to the one commanding the attention of the fans listening to his every word, every deep growl, every breath and vibration of his deep voice. The musically gifted god, center stage, his voice echoing through the stadium, suffering from something so deep inside him even he doesn’t know its depth yet. It’s clear he’s vulnerable, pouring out honest lyrics that evoke both sadness and comfort that I’m not the only one who’s been deceived.
You told me it was real
You gave me what I wanted
Can you even look me in the eyes?
Had I known it was lies
Whatever, I go along
Strangle my violent heart
It’s over now, I’d give it all back
I suggest you get yourself a weapon
Strangle me, darling
It’s your only chance at redemption
Strangle my violent heart
I’m weak and powerless over you
I can’t imagine him powerless to anyone, but I think I know who the lyrics are about and she’s staring at me. I’m certainly hated by many.
As Revel sings the closing lines of the song, repeating the chorus as the music fades, I see the pain behind the words. The feedback from Hardin’s guitar echoes through the auditorium signaling the end of the song as Revel stalks toward me, sweat dripping off his skin from the heat of the stage lights.
Oh God, he’s approaching me. Don’t react. Don’t breathe, and for Heaven’s sake, don’t grab his face and kiss him like you desperately want to!
My breath catches as he stops toe to toe with me before leaning down to wipe his face on the towel I’d slung over my shoulder, his words tickling my neck. “That’s as close to greatness as you’ll ever be,” he spits before turning back to the stage, leaving me speechless, tossing the towel back at me.
Fighting the urge to pick up the towel and smell it, I let out a slow, even breath and put on a smile, trying to pretend his words didn’t hurt, but the significance of them does. Inside, my heart thunders from the aftershock of his attention.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? What an asshole. A hot asshole, but whatever.
Turning, I find Bella standing next to me with her mouth gaping, and who else?
Hensley.
Smiling.
I don’t know her very well, but I can already tell she hates me too by the look of disgust hidden deep within her dark eyes, staring me down like I’m her worst enemy.
“What?” I ask when I realize Hensley’s not moving, nor is she saying anything. Why the heck is she staring at me so much?
Hensley eyes me from head to toe and gives me her resting bitch face. At least that’s what Bella tells me she has. “I should probably warn you now.”
That you slept with my dad? That I hate you? That you’re a slut?
My heart pounds, as though she’s about to tell me someone died. “About?” In my periphery vision, I can see Bella, and the look on her face mirrors my own. Two southern girls standing next to the tattooed, pink and purple haired Hensley Shaw probably looks something similar to when angels meet the devil. Not that we’re angels, but you get what I’m saying, right?
“You know.” Hensley takes a long draw from the joint she’s smoking, nodding to the stage. I fight the urge to gag. I hate the skunk stench coming from the marijuana. “There should be a label on guys like him. He destroys. He doesn’t know any different.”
I’m not sure what she means, but I have a feeling my foolish heart is about to find out the hard way these next three months.
“Don’t,” she warns. “Don’t even go there.”
