Riffs That Ruin (Survival Records #2)

31. Raina

K eaton’s words run through my head for the millionth time. It’s no wonder he started off with expressing the depth of his feelings for me, because he smacked me over the head with his tough love.

I couldn’t answer him because I didn’t know the answer. He wasn’t wrong about me cowering. I’ve done it from the very first time Dickless ran his hand up my thigh and asked me to sit on his lap.

Hiding inside myself is how I survived. Barely… I suppose I hid inside myself until the pain became too much to bear, and I tried to end it all.

Everyone but Nash seems to want me to do something , but I’m with my bass player. How can I do anything without knowing what the consequences will be?

Look at what already happened with my attempts to gain control over my destiny.

Is this a case of everything will get worse until it’s better? Or will this steer me into self sabotage, and I’ll end up as the cautionary tale everyone already thinks I am?

Will I be able to look at myself in the mirror if I step in line and do what Dickless wants? No. I don’t think I can. I might as well swallow another handful of pills because I’ll effectively have killed off my soul.

“Come here,” Darius says, cutting off my thoughts with his hand held out to me. “You need to get out of your head for a while.”

“Don’t tell her what to do,” Nash snaps.

“Nashy, it’s okay.” I try to soothe his frazzled nerves, but we’re all on edge with what tonight might hold. Maybe we should’ve seen more fans in the meet and greet to keep us distracted.

The venue here has tiny-as-fuck dressing rooms, so we’re stuck hanging out in a communal area, throwing all of our personal pre-show rituals off. Blake is a mess, his usually put together hair is sticking out all over the place with how often he’s run his fingers through it, and he isn’t finding Nash’s joking funny like he usually does. To be fair, Nash isn’t as on his game as normal.

Keaton is probably the only one who isn’t affected, but then again, he doesn’t seem to have any pre-show rituals. Other than sticking to me like glue, which he’s doing.

Being in the large room close to the stage also means the guys can’t be as touchy with me as normal, and Darius gets to play the role of boyfriend.

It all adds together to be a volatile mess waiting to explode.

My fake boyfriend leads me to the couch where he tugs me into his side so we’re cuddling close, making Nash scowl. Dare unlocks his phone and a video automatically starts playing from where he was watching reels.

“The pop star sensation Raina has hit headlines once more, and you’ll never guess what for,” a female voice sounds through the space from a video Darius plays.

“Raina doesn’t like listening to that bullshit,” Blake says without lifting his head from his hands.

Darius glances at my preppy band member as the video continues playing. “She’s breaking the internet as fans everywhere are analyzing her songs, trying to find new meaning to them after the pop star posted a video where she said she really meant the opposite in her lyrics.”

“Sorry,” Dare murmurs, flicking his thumb so a new video plays.

“Oh my god! I thought I loved Raina’s music before, but Hate You So Little is my new favorite song. Her lyrics are way more relatable now.”

“Shit,” he says, swiping again, replacing the fan with a new face.

“Have you guys seen the videos of the fan who claims to be Raina’s best friend? He’s been posting stories from when they were supposedly ki—”

Dare swipes again and a new video starts. “Booktok have you seen this?” Now this is more my speed. Or at least I thought so until she brings up a screenshot of one of our videos. “Do you see this?” she asks excitedly. She zooms in until the Kindle Keaton got me is grainy from how close she got it. “Raina is one of us! What do you think she’s reading? I swear she’s living her best rock star romance life right now. What team are you on? Team Darius? Team Tristan? I’m all the way with #TeamWhyChoose! Give the girl both of those tasty men.”

Darius locks his phone and rubs the back of his neck with the hand he had wrapped around me. “Fuck. I guess I’m a little more locked onto StormChasertok than I thought.”

He gives me the sexiest guilty smirk that makes butterflies swarm in my stomach.

Nash snorts. “Yeah, sure,” he mutters under his breath.

“What’s with the team stuff?” Blake asks, lifting his head.

As much as I’m thankful he’s finally found something to distract him, I really wish he didn’t bring it up. I don’t want to know.

“Yeah, what do they know about Tristan?” Nash adds, perking up. Even Keaton is paying attention.

Dare laughs, his arm moving around my shoulders again where his fingertips draw tiny circles onto my skin. It sends tingles down my spine and makes my nipples get hard. I hope to fuck they don’t show through my costume.

“StormChasertok is split on wanting me to be her boyfriend and some guy posting videos about his groveling tour. There’s even some people on each of your teams.” He’s still holding onto his phone with his other hand and uses it to point at my other guys.

“What in the fucking Twilight fandom is going on here?“ I growl. Every single one of those fuckers laughs at my distress, even Keaton. None of them get coffee in the morning. Motherfuckers.

Suddenly his words click in my head paired with Tristan’s name. “Wait, who’s this other guy?” Can it be my Tris? Has this dick been keeping information about him from us all this time? Could we have found him already?

Before Dare can answer, Izzy walks into the room. “Carmen is about to go on stage.” She holds her hands up, indicating she wants us to stay where we are when we move as one to make our way to the stage. Anxiety rips through my stomach, worried about finding out what other songs were stolen.

“I have Gill watching, ready to take notes on any other new songs she introduces, but I don’t want you to let this affect you. For now, pretend nothing is going on. It’s business as usual.” She gives me a tight smile like she knows how difficult of an ask this is.

“Nash, Keaton, Darius, and Blake,” she turns to my bandmates, her eyes earnest. “You guys need to be there for Raina on stage. I don’t care how much this is tearing you apart. On that stage, you’ve got each other’s backs, okay?”

I can’t help but smile at her giving us an admittedly much needed pep talk. It’s crazy that I still get caught off guard with how supportive she is. I can only wonder where my career would be now if she was in my life from the start. Shaking my head, I have to wonder how this woman can make me feel any spark of happiness right now.

Sounds of agreement fill the room, but it does little to calm the turmoil inside me— what if she ruins another one of my songs? Nash manages a wry smile in my direction, his hand squeezing my shoulder in assurance. Blake and Keaton simply nod, their faces hardened with resolve, the latter spinning a stick between his fingers.

“You’ve got this, Raina. Focus on your love of music, let it fill you as you’re on stage.” She reaches out and squeezes my hand.

As Izzy strides out of the room, the silence that follows hangs thick in the air. This isn’t a simple performance anymore; it’s a battle - a battle against lyric poaching enemies and unspoken fears.

It’s time to entrap hearts with a spellbinding performance.

Easy .

A familiar rush of adrenaline tingles at my fingertips, my heart thudding wildly against my ribs. I’ve got this. Totally.

“Raina...” Darius’ voice is soft next to me, his fingers threading through mine with a gentleness that belies the storm raging within us all. It makes me whip my head to look at him. I know out here we’re supposed to act like a couple, but I’m not used to it at all.

“Yeah?” My voice sounds hoarse even to my own ears.

“I meant what I said before about getting out of your head,” he says, his thumb tracing circles over my knuckles. “All you need to do is sing your heart out, okay? Forget the world. Forget everything else.”

My stomach swoops and it feels like I’m free falling into his gaze. “Why is your riff being used in her song?”

The question is out of my mouth before I even think about it, almost like a knee-jerk reaction from the overwhelming emotions coursing through me. I can’t let myself get too close. We aren’t dating for real; it’s all fake.

My question seems to summon the others. They crowd around me, practically breathing down my neck. Darius looks up, drawing my attention in the same direction. I find Keaton standing behind the couch, his arms crossed with a menacing scowl across his face.

It’s something they all want an answer to but have been waiting for me to be the one to ask.

Dare’s striking greenish-blue eyes land on me again and he winces. I can feel the immediate tensing of Nash, anger rolling off him. I’m surprised he holds himself back, waiting to hear what the man has to say.

“I failed to anticipate the possibility of someone stealing our work from the videos we posted. It’s the only way I can think of them getting it. I’ve never played it before that day. Not out loud, at least.” With a gentle movement, he raises our still joined hands into the space between us. “I failed to see it when assessing any negatives, so in that I take the blame.”

“You didn’t give it to them? Bring their attention to it in any way?” Blake asks, his tone calculating. As bad as the topic is, I’m glad he’s distracted from his stage fright.

Darius pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before leveling a sharp gaze on each of the guys. “I thought we got beyond the mistrust. How many times will I have to deny I’m not some sabotaging spy?”

The words hang heavy in the air, a question, a declaration, and a plea. His gaze finds mine again, his expression earnest. He wants so much to be included and I can’t help but wonder what his true reason is. It can’t only be because he’s a fan of mine.

His eyes suck me in, making my heart flutter, traitorous little thing.

When the silence draws out into uncomfortable territory, he stands, our hands falling apart. His tall silhouette towers over us, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“I’ve said what I had to say. If you still don’t trust me... there’s nothing more I can do,” he mutters before he strides out of the room, leaving behind his disappointment and the sensation of crushed dreams. His footsteps fade and silence descends once more.

I open and close my fist, frowning at it. There’s a tingle of warmth left from his touch, yet I feel like something was ripped away from me. I shouldn’t have such an emotional reaction to a fake boyfriend. Not when my actual ones are here with me.

Nash is the first to break it. “Raina, he—”

I shake my head at him. “Save it Nash.” My voice is colder than I intended, but I don’t have the energy for a confrontation. I want us to all be one, to not have to navigate through contentious relationships between my band members.

Izzy was here only minutes ago with a pep talk uniting us together and now it feels like we’re closer to self-destructing than ever before.

A knot forms in my throat as I walk away from them all and toward a vanity mirror in the corner of the room. The lights illuminate my face showing too much makeup covering up a plethora of worries. If we keep pushing Darius away, he might leave us, just like Tristan. I can’t handle it happening a second time.

Suddenly Keaton’s reflection appears behind mine. His gray-tipped hair ruffled as though he’s been running his hands through it.

“Raina,” his voice is soft, filled with an understanding that only he seems to possess. “You care for him?”

What is it with Keaton coming to me with tough truths?

“I do,” I whisper, not wanting to admit it to myself, much less out loud.

“Then you should go after him.”