Fated Hearts (Echoes of Darkness Prequel)

4

Ava

T he venue the band is playing at tonight is packed to the brim with sweaty, gyrating bodies that crowd us near the raised, wooden stage. I am one with them; sweat trickles between my shoulder blades and makes my hair stick to my back as I jump up and down with Chloe, losing myself to the music. My heart is fluttering, and I feel like something heavy is pressing on my chest, but what else is new? Nausea hits me all of a sudden. I push the uncomfortable feeling aside and concentrate on dancing. It’s probably just the alcohol. I refuse to think of what else it might be.

“You sexy bitch!” Chloe screams in my ear, slurring her words as she grinds against me and cops a feel of my ass.

I am wearing a leather mini dress I paired with combat boots for the full rock chick vibe. It has thin spaghetti straps, a plunging V-neck, and an open back. Smiling drunkenly at my best friend, I look at her from head to toe. “You’re the one to talk. Every guy in this place is drooling over you.”

Chloe is a bombshell with legs a mile long. Her thick, inky black hair reaches the middle of her back, and she is the spitting image of her Filipina mother. She looks like a runway model. Whereas me…I couldn’t be any different. I’m a mix of my white Argentinian father with jade-green eyes and my Mexican mother with a much darker complexion. My skin is golden, thanks to the time I spent sunbathing at the pool with Chloe, and my hair is brunette with natural caramel highlights. I am also shorter than her and a lot curvier.

I have a belly that hangs a little over my waistband, probably because I love baking and eating anything sweet, and thick thighs that chafe like a bitch in the summer. But, I would rather die than eat food I don’t like just because society tells me I’m not exactly the perfect body size. Fuck them. I starved myself enough over the venomous words thrown at me by insecure girls who hate themselves more than anything and want others to feel as miserable as they feel inside. Finding out I was going to die had one advantage, I didn’t give a shit about their opinion anymore.

“Um, hello, I’m not the one Jude’s been eye fucking the whole night. I bet he wants to fuck you for real,” she giggles.

She is right. The lead singer of the band keeps roving his gaze over me. He is looking more at my boobs than at my face, though. I do have a decent rack, so I can’t blame him. We are so close to the stage that my chest vibrates with the deep bass, and I can see every single drop of sweat that courses in rivulets on Jude’s half-naked body.

To the delight of every woman in attendance, he took off his shirt at the middle of their set, tucking it in the back pocket of his leather pants. He keeps throwing smoldering looks toward the crowd as he grips the microphone, flexing his chiseled abs. He has that bad boy look with slicked back raven hair, hazel eyes, and tattoos that cover his muscular yet slender body. Like a swimmer rather than a bodybuilder. It also doesn’t hurt that he sings so damn well. There’s something about a man who can sing that turns a woman into a crazed, hormonal teenager.

“And Knox hasn’t stopped looking at you,” I shoot back, referring to the drummer who has eyes only for Chloe. He is good-looking, too, with warm brown eyes and dirty blond hair that touches his shoulders and moves every time his sticks hit the drums.

We keep dancing and screaming until the band finishes their last song. I need to pee really bad, and I can’t wait for people to clear a path so we can go to the bathroom and then go backstage to meet the band.

Before I can turn around, a behemoth of a man with a buzz cut and a mean mug appears next to me. “Miss,” he says.

I look around, confusion pulling at my eyebrows.

“He’s talking to you, Ave,” Chloe chuckles out.

Heat blooms in my cheeks. “Yeah?” I reply and cringe because I screamed the word, my ears not fully recovered from being so close to the blasting speakers.

The corners of his lips turn up in amusement. “The band wanted you to have these.” He extends two backstage passes toward me.

“Oh, we already have those.” I rummage through my small, black leather fanny pack to get them out. We took the badges off at some point because they kept smacking into our faces with those sharp edges when we jumped to the music. I swear I almost lost an eyeball.

“These are special ones.” He winks, and Chloe takes the passes, giving one to me. We both put them around our necks. “If you can follow me, please.”

“Oh my God, we’re getting the VIP of the VIP treatment. I think I’m going to faint.” Chloe jumps on the balls of her feet as she lets out an excited scream. I honestly don’t know how she can do that and still keep her balance on those high heels with how much we drank until now. “Told you that mini leather dress was the way to go for tonight,” she whispers as she elbows me in the ribs.

I grunt and give her a dirty look because I swear she doesn’t realize how freakishly sharp her elbow is. “Wait, can we swing by the bathroom first? I need to pee.” At this point, my bladder is about to burst, and I’m beyond getting embarrassed talking about bodily functions in front of this mountain of a man.

“There’s a bathroom you can use on the bus,” he replies.

Chloe and I look at each other at the same time. Her eyes almost bulge out of her head. “Holy shit, we’re going to their tour bus!” She grips my arm so hard I am sure I’m going to have an imprint of her fingers the next day.

Twenty minutes later, we climb the steps and enter the bus as the bodyguard shuts the door behind us. It took us forever to get here since we had to wait in line as everyone made their way to exit the venue. The band is still outside, giving autographs to the mass of people waiting for them near the bus.

I let my eyes take in my surroundings as Chloe brims with excitement next to me. The front lounge is dimly lit and decked with two dark brown leather couches. A big flat TV screen is embedded into one of the shiny, dark wood-paneled walls. Everything looks luxurious and screams money.

Chloe takes a seat on one of the couches. “Damn, this leather is buttery smooth,” she says as she runs her fingers over the material of the couch.

I chuckle at her enthusiasm and hastily cut through the corridor in pursuit of the bathroom. I’m glad no one can see my weird attempt at walking with my inner thighs pressed together.

Passing the kitchen with state-of-the-art appliances and a round booth with a table in the middle, I stop at a closed door before the bunk beds. I turn the knob and thank God it’s the bathroom. I was about to pee in the middle of the bus, and I don’t think the band would have been too happy about that. The bathroom is nicer than the one in my small apartment. It has a full walk-in shower, two sinks, and a big LED-lit mirror that hangs above the black marble countertop.

After I’ve taken care of my business and am washing my hands, I suddenly become lightheaded, my breath coming out in shallow spurts. My reflection in the mirror whirls in a way that tells me I’m about to faint. Fuck . White-knuckling the edges of the sink, I try to stabilize myself.

My jaw starts hurting as a dull headache blooms in the back of my head. Bile burns the back of my throat until it spills into my mouth. I quickly open the lid of the toilet and start heaving my last meal along with all the alcohol I have ingested. The moment I finish throwing up, I stand up on shaky legs and throw some ice-cold water onto my face. Whatever reprieve that gave me, though, is shot to pieces when a sharp pain pierces my chest. It shackles my lungs with heavy steel chains and forces me down onto the toilet with my head between my knees, struggling to breathe. My fingers tremble as I push a wet strand of hair out of my face.

After a few minutes, the pain has subsided enough that I feel I can finally stand without fear of tearing down a towel rack. There is a bottle of mouthwash near the sink. I use it to rinse my mouth, hoping no one will mind or notice. Taking a tissue from the holder in front of me, I pat my face dry and fix my makeup as best as I can.

A loud knock reverberates in the small space, making me flinch. “Ava, are you okay? You’ve been in there for a long time,” Chloe’s voice travels through the door, thick with worry.

“Yeah, I got sick because of the tequila,” I say weakly.

“Do you want me to hold your hair?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“’Kay.”

I step out of the bathroom not into the sleek designer bus I left, but into a fully raging nightclub complete with blasting music and dizzying LED lights flashing blues and reds and purples. The band has arrived.

Knox is sponging every word that comes out of Chloe’s mouth as she animatedly gestures something. They sit close to one another on a couch in the front lounge, lost in their own bubble. She twirls her hair on one of her fingers and bats her eyelashes at him before taking a drag of her beer, a clear sign that she is into him. As I pass the kitchen, I quickly avert my eyes at the image before me. Slouched in the kitchen booth, a blissful look on his face, and gripping a fistful of blond hair, the bassist pushes down the head of the woman sucking his cock. I cringe at the slurpy, suction noises she is making.

So…that’s how a rock star lives.

The other two guitarists are in the lounge area on the couch opposite Chloe and Knox. They each have two girls sitting in their laps. As I advance on the corridor, I stop when I feel a hand at the small of my back.

“Hello, gorgeous,” someone whispers roughly in my ear, making a shiver pass down my spine.

I turn around, and I am hit full force with how good-looking Jude is this close. And he smells delicious. He definitely showered because he has fresh clothes on, now wearing black distressed jeans and a tee with their band name written over the chest in bold, bloody letters.

“Hey,” I say.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He leans closer and brushes a strand of hair out of my face, eliciting tingles all over my body. “What’s your name, gorgeous?” he purrs.

Damn, he’s good. I already feel weak in the knees. I bet he has a lot of experience seducing women. “Ava,” I shoot back.

His eyes rake over my body, stopping at my cleavage. “What do you say we party somewhere private, Ava?”

“Um…sure.” But as soon as I say it, my stomach constricts painfully, almost making me bend over. Mierda . I’m getting sick again. With a few deep breaths through my nose, I engage in a battle of wills with my rioting organ. You will not ruin this moment for me, you little shit, I mentally chastise , as if I’m in control over that sort of thing. Luckily, it finally settles. Thank God. Before I can change my mind, Jude takes my hand in his and drags me to the back of the bus.

The bassist and the blond are no longer in the kitchen. They surely moved to one of the bunk beds since the curtain is drawn, and it’s doing nothing to muffle the loud moans. Huh, either she is faking it, or he is really good because I‘ve only heard those kinds of sounds in porn movies.

We enter the bedroom at the end of the bus. A round double bed with crimson satin sheets sits in the middle, and there’s another bathroom through the open door at my right. Jude closes the door behind him and prowls toward me. He doesn’t waste any time as he closes the space between us and presses his body to mine, a hand gripping my ass and the other at the nape of my neck. He dips and crashes his lips to mine, his tongue licking at my mouth with languid strokes. As he brushes his finger over my nipple, making it pebble, my heart speeds dangerously in my chest. Honestly, I don’t know if it is because of him or because of my defective heart at this point.

Jude pulls back and licks his lips. “Damn, you taste good, gorgeous. Let’s have some fun.” He winks and smoothly takes out a small transparent bag of white powder from the back pocket of his jeans. He swings it in the air like a pendulum as if trying to hypnotize me before he saunters to the small wooden desk near the bed and pours the bag’s contents onto a small mirror-like tray.

It brings me back to those moments in law school, sprawled on the couch while taking a break from the mountain of textbooks on my desk. Instead of dancing on tables alongside Chloe, I would watch movies to pass my time. As if following the script in my head, Jude starts cutting the cocaine into tiny lines, using a card he fished out of his wallet. Predictably, he takes out a hundred-dollar bill and rolls it until it resembles a straw.

I swallow hard. How many times did I wish I played the main character? Only to feel something…anything other than suffocating apathy.

A loud, nasally sound snaps me out of it, and I realize Jude just snorted all three lines. He rubs at his powdered nostrils before sniffing sharply. “Want a bump?” he asks as he blatantly eyes my boobs, his pupils increasing in size as we speak.

“Um…I don’t know,” I reply. My mother’s horrified expression flashes through my mind, followed by a deep disappointment that sets her mouth in a tight line. I brush her haunting apparition off my shouldersand think about it without the heavy cloud of her judgment hanging over me. As far as drugs go, since finding out I’m going to die, I’ve only smoked weed a couple of times—which my weak lungs didn’t like all that much—and done half a Molly once. I was afraid, with it being an upper, that it would affect my heart. I was right; I nearly passed out.

Snorting cocaine feels like playing a game of Russian roulette, though.

“C’mon,” he pauses as if searching for my name in his head. He must have already forgotten it because he says “gorgeous” after a few awkward beats of silence. “You’re only going to be this young once, right?” He smiles sheepishly and extends the hundred-dollar straw toward me.

He’s dangling in my face the starring role I’ve been craving for years. All I have to do to escape the numbness is go on a wild ride with him. What else could go wrong? I’m dying already. I stride toward the desk and take the makeshift straw. Bending over, I start snorting the first line. The powder tickles the inside of my nose before it slightly stings. I weirdly feel it between my eyes.

“I can’t wait to fuck you,” Jude says gravelly as one of his hands smacks my left ass cheek, and the other sneaks under my dress and palms my pussy over my panties. “C’mon, snort another. One is not enough.”

As soon as I finish snorting the second line, a rush of euphoria hits me. My insides pitch as my heart starts thudding at the speed of light. Straightening, I blink a few times, trying to clear the dancing white spots in my vision, but the room moves with me like I’m in one of those spinning roller coasters and my knees buckle while my arm begins to throb. I go down hard as a heavy weight presses on top of my lungs, like a building has collapsed on top of my chest.

“Fuck, you okay?” Jude asks, alarmed.

I try to answer, but my tongue is filled with lead, and my vision blackens at the edges. I hear Jude screaming.

Then nothing.