The man furrows his brows a little but opens the rope for us.
‘Thank you, sir,’ Xander chirps, ushering me through quickly.
Loud music erupts as we emerge on the other side. Hustling through the corridor, sliding and manoeuvring between bodies, we find a dark corner to loiter. I fall against the wall in disbelief. ‘Sometimes I forget just how amazing you guys are.’ I laugh, a sense of relief washing over me. ‘It seemed so easy. I was nervous for nothing.’
Xander snatches his hand away from mine. ‘We all have our tricks.’
I lean in, yelling over the music. ‘So, Will, can he… you know, do stuff like that?’
Xander winces, moving back. His stare lingers on me. ‘I can hear you just fine where you are and no, he can’t – well, at least not in the same way I can. He has his own… abilities.’ Xander waves his hand, as if dismissing the topic away. Perhaps this is a topic he has been instructed not to talk about. ‘Also, I’ll have you know I’m not doing this sort of thing again.’ His face scrunches in response to the bar atmosphere. ‘It’s too loud in here and it smells of liquor.’
‘I know. It’s great, isn’t it?’ Rye shouts over the music, walking up to us. A group of girls scuttle past in tight dresses, whispering to themselves while stealing glances in our direction. Either they’re eyeing Rye or discussing the young child in the bar, possibly both.
‘Well, I’m leaving,’ Xander states blankly, feeling their gaze. ‘This place is gross and I hate it.’
‘Thanks, Xander,’ I say. ‘It was a big help.’
‘Mhm,’ he mumbles, turning around. ‘I know.’ Without so much as a farewell, he fades into the darkness and disappears.
‘Don’t you find that really unnerving?’ Rye says after a few moments.
‘Which part?’
‘What do you mean which part? All of it.’ He laughs nervously. ‘The disappearing, the hypnosis, the demon child aspect. By the way, I’ll have you know the moment you guys went through the door, that guy snapped out of his trance. I was hoping the hypnosis would linger for at least a few minutes more. I thought my fake ID wasn’t going to cut it.’
I sigh loudly. I’m sure Xander did that on purpose. ‘If that had happened, this whole thing would have been a huge waste of time. I’m only here for you.’
Rye grins. ‘I’m flattered.’
I groan internally. No, that’s not what I meant. I’m only here because he forced me to go. That’s all that I meant and I am ready to tell him that but a new song starts in the bar and Rye’s eyes light up.
‘Come on, this is the band I was telling you about. Let’s find a seat!’ Taking my hand in his, he pulls me through the crowd, eventually locating a tall metal table near the stage. Dread trickles through me. We’ve talked about this. Friends – that’s all. Friends don’t hold hands.
Boundaries. I need to set boundaries. As I open my mouth, my voice gets cut off.
‘Wait here. I’ll get us some drinks.’
And he’s gone. I watch the musician on stage. A tall guy with ragged black hair holds an electric guitar, singing. His body moves to the music, his bandmates executing a similar kind of sway. But it’s not the same. He is different, more captivating and somewhat familiar. What is it? What is it about him? I guess that’s why he’s the lead.
‘Okay, I’m back,’ Rye says, bringing with him a tray of small filled glasses. I give him a mortified look.
‘I-I don’t, I mean, I haven’t drunk straight alcohol before,’ I lie, trying to put some distance between us. This wasn’t part of the plan. Hanging out with Rye is different from drinking with Rye. There’s connotations. Connotations that relate to events that only recently transpired between us.
‘You’re almost eighteen now, better time than any to start,’ he says flippantly. ‘Plus, you weren’t able to celebrate your birthday last year. We have to make up for that.’ I shoot him a glare, hoping no one around heard. It is nice to finally celebrate my birthday; it seemed to get lost amongst the chaotic events of the year. It’s almost been a year since I met the demons, yet it feels like just yesterday. I’m sure for them it feels even shorter.
‘I’m pretty sure this,’ I say, pointing at the clear liquid sloshing in the short glasses, ‘is not a good place to start. It’s not exactly what I signed up for today. We came here to watch a band, this band, so maybe we should actually start watching them.’
Rye shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, picking one up and throwing it back. Good for him, I guess. So carefree. It’s like he’s the polar opposite of Will. The thought of the demon drops my mood like a lead balloon. The song ends and the chatter of people fills the room once again. Immediately agitated by my confusing feelings, I stop thinking and throw one back too. The taste is horrible as expected, but not that horrible. Rye grins his signature smile. It’s such a nice smile, wide and bright. Sincere and warm. So different to – no, no, no. I stop my thoughts while they’re ahead. Don’t think about Will.
‘You know what’s weird?’ I say, through the muffled crowd. Rye shakes his head. ‘I haven’t even seen or met this girl, yet she’s been inside my head. Don’t you think that’s violating?’
Rye’s expression darkens, an aloofness that is rare for him. ‘Didn’t you say you didn’t want to talk about this? I thought you said you were over it.’
‘I am! Of course I am. I mean I don’t care – obviously. I’m just saying.’ I shoot another glass down in frustration. ‘But can you believe he actually likes a person like that? Who thinks of the traits murderous and crazy and thinks “that’s the girl for me”?’
‘Someone who’s also murderous and crazy…’ Rye mutters almost as if to himself, blinking back some horrible trauma. Maybe Will did do something to Rye that day. I guess I’ll have to interrogate him next time I see him. My heartbeat quickens once again.
‘You know, he’s not that bad once you get to know him.’ The words seem foreign in my mouth. Rye becomes quiet, knowing full well that he doesn’t plan to. When the silence stretches longer than what’s comfortable, I scramble to fill the space. ‘Anyway, she’s the one that tried to walk me off a cliff. I almost died. And now I’ve just been shipped off here by my lonesome.’
He frowns. ‘Lonesome?’ The words take on an edge of sourness. ‘Shipped off? Siara, this is your home. This is where you belong. Not there, with those things.’ He’s right, of course, but the word things strike a chord. My body bristles in the chair and I turn away awkwardly, hiding my irritation. A static interference, high pitched and loud, shrieks through the hall; a welcome distraction from our conversation’s growing friction. The lead artist walks around the stage, chatting with his bandmates and switching between guitars. I’m sure if I knew anything about music, I’d know the difference between them. As he swings the strap over his head, his gaze passes absently over me. Pausing, he does a double take, his brow crinkling with a stern glare. A band member calls his name and he drags his eyes away, starting a new song.
Rye leans in. ‘Do you know him?’ So it’s not just me that noticed it.
‘Uh, I’m not sure.’ I mean, I don’t think I do. And even if I did know him, he shouldn’t know me. Unnerved, I shoot back another glass to ease the anxiety. Maybe he’s seen me before when I’ve been out with Rye. Maybe he knows I’m underage. Is it how I’m drinking? Am I drinking these shots in a way that might make him believe I’m underage? No, that’s stupid. With anxiety swirling and Rye’s sequential trips to the bar, a few more shots go down until I forget what it was that I was even concerned about.
The ground won’t stay still. It tips and turns, and spins about. I stumble to the grass, barely in control of my own feet. Ohh, I don’t feel good. Rye is not here. I left him back in the bar. Wherever that is. I don’t even know where here is. He’s probably looking for me right now. It’s a shame I don’t have a phone anymore. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow, buy a new phone. A nice one. One with a fancy camera. Rye will help me. Right, Rye. Poor Rye, I’ve ditched him again. This time it’s an incidental rejection. I laugh aloud although it’s not all that funny. I wanted to get out – it was too loud. Xander was right. Too many people. Plus, I didn’t want Rye to see me being sick. Which I will be very soon. Soon like now. I scramble over to the bushes by a bench a few metres away, managing to make it just in time.
Ugh, that was gross.
Voices chatter from a distance away. A group of rowdy guys erupt from around the corner of a building. I freeze. I’ve staggered down the street from the bar to the park. And I’m alone. And intoxicated. The situation immediately becomes sobering.
I get to my feet quickly and hope they don’t notice me. But they do.
‘Hey!’ one calls. I knew this night was a bad idea. Three of them break out from the larger group, jogging unsteadily over. It’s clear that they’re intoxicated as well. A few guys call them back but they ultimately continue walking down the street without paying much more attention.
‘Are you waiting for someone?’ one says. I nod, trying to conceal just how intoxicated I am. Think sober thoughts.
