Silent Music

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Silent Music Page 7

by Aisling Magic


  Phoenix: ARE YOU SERIOUS??????

  Phoenix: Actually, I’d prefer he hadn’t done something awful enough to earn the kick in the balls. If you don’t want a breathtaking kick in the groin, then don’t do anything that’ll earn you one!

  Kai: I agree there!

  *picture attached*

  A smile tugged my lips as I looked at the picture he sent along. He was wearing a T-shirt with “I’m not perfect, so sometimes I’m an ass” on it.

  Phoenix: Yes, sometimes you’re an ass.

  Kai: Sorry, baby … *picture attached*

  This time I nearly licked my phone screen. It was a picture of half his body, naked. I could see his hip bone and a little lower. He was sporting a pout and looking at the camera with puppy dog eyes. Could someone look sexy and cute at the same time?

  I wanted to let him know that his answer pleased me. So I opened my closet and took out a white T-shirt that I stole from Kai.

  “Are you trying to do a striptease? Let me know, and I’ll drag my ass out,” Madison drawled. I flipped her off and removed my clothes.

  “There we go …”

  “Shut up.” I slipped the T-shirt on and then handed my phone to Madison. “Here, take a picture.”

  Her eyes moved from the phone to me. “Are you crazy?”

  “Just do what I’m saying.”

  She rolled her eyes but took the phone. I stood there smiling, and Madison huffed, “Come on, you can do better than that.”

  I looked at my posture. “What’s wrong with standing?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not very sexy.”

  “That’s okay. I just want him to see me in his clothes. Everything doesn’t need to be sexy. He loves me just the way I am.”

  “Fine.”

  Madison took one picture, and I immediately sent it to Kai with a goodnight message.

  Phoenix: You’re half forgiven since you sent only half a picture. Goodnight.

  *picture attached*

  I slipped under the sheets next to Madison. “You can sleep here tonight, okay?”

  She smiled but didn't say anything. Most of the time we slept in the same bed, except for the days when Kai said he was coming through the window.

  My phone chimed, and I opened the text.

  Kai: Tomorrow I’ll give you a Kai in his birthday clothes.

  Kai: I like the way you look in my clothes. I want to come and peel it off you while I drop light kisses on your body till you go crazy, but Dad’s out with the car, so I’ll just dream of climbing in that window and removing that T-shirt from your body. Sleep and dream of me and the kisses I’ll be giving you in my dreams.

  Kai: LY

  I squealed, wiggling my body. I closed my eyes, with a smile on my lips, waiting for sleep to come so that I could collect my kisses.

  CHAPTER 12

  KAI

  Songs are manipulative.

  They cleverly take control of you, and you not only fall in love with pain, but you crave the pain even more. My songs are loyal. They absorb my affliction in their words and let me feel it whenever I need them—whenever I sing.

  The music fades to a stop as I drag the last word until only my voice can be heard, felt. And I stop. Inhaling a deep breath, I allow my eyes to remain closed, satisfied that I’ve spread my share of pain to the others and they’ve welcomed it wholeheartedly.

  My body is rock-hard, the adrenaline still high in me. My heart thumps loudly, but not louder than the screams, the whistles, the applause. I open my eyes and let them roam over the audience as I take in the deafening cheers, the frantic arms waving at me, and the gleaming eyes fixed on me like I’m the answer to all their problems. Like I’m their king.

  A lonely king.

  With the sound of fireworks, the light goes off, but the cheers continue to echo in my ears. Security nears the stage because there are times when things get messy with fans. The band starts to move, but I stay still, composing myself. Being on the stage is a major turn-on, and right now, my dick is fucking hard. I take a few deep breaths before walking to the main lounge area backstage to pick up my bag and rush to the tour bus waiting at the back entrance.

  By the time I reach the bus, it’s already crowded with the band and groupies. I guess they can’t party without them. I need to escape this place and hang out with my only loyal friend—Jack Daniel’s.

  The trip from the door to my room cannot be more awkward. Greg is leaning against the door and has his arms wrapped around Sophia, and by the way her cheeks are turning pink, I can guess what he’s saying to her. I look away but not before hearing my brother say, “Let me get you to the hotel room.” I cut through the crowd, trying not to pay attention to the heat rising in the living room compartment.

  “Virginia, I want to fuck you. Slow. Hard. Fast ...”

  I raise my bag above my head and keep on walking. Only twenty steps left.

  “I’m going to spread you so wide … choke you …. pound into you so hard …”

  Nineteen … eighteen … seventeen …

  “… scream for me to stop.”

  Eleven … ten … nine …

  “… fuck your tits …”

  Five … four … three …

  You’d think I’ve walked into a Tinder’s living room and this wasn’t helping my hard dick.

  I throw my bag on the bed and pull my T-shirt off as soon as I enter my room. Picking up a wet cloth, I walk to the bathroom in the adjoining compartment and look at myself in the mirror. My jaws are clenched. My face flushed. This is the moment when I want to lose myself. I want to get wasted until I feel nothing. I'm washing my face when I hear the door open and shut quietly.

  “Hi, sweetheart…” Sleek fingers trace my spine. Before I have the time to turn the tap off, I have two pairs of hands running through my hair, across my stomach, and someone’s already snapping my fly open.

  Fucking groupies.

  A hot mouth traces the vein on my neck as my hair is pulled back. Goddammit, that feels good. So good. “You liked that, didn’t you?” one of them says, her hot breath hitting my ear. Hell yes, I did. I turn around, my hands finding a slender waist. To my surprise, they’re twins, and if their skimpy red dresses are any indication, they aren’t here by mistake. Lost in the moment, I let them maneuver me to my bedroom and throw me on the bed with my legs hanging out. Without wasting any time, one straddles me and pulls her dress down to her waist, baring her tits. Yes! My pants are suddenly too tight. The other one wraps up her arms around me from behind, while her tongue swirls on my throat again. Holy shit.

  My eyes are glued to the bouncing breasts, and then the most amazing thing happens—pleasure. Friction mixed with heat makes me groan loudly.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Stop.

  This cannot happen.

  “Wait … wait,” I say, my voice coming in small breaths. “The hell,” I curse, grabbing the hands on me and throwing them away.

  “Kai …” the one at my back whispers into my ear, but I don’t stop. I lift her sister off of me and walk to the door—I fucking need a cold shower. I pull my zipper up and try to locate my phone in the room to call Stewart. Where is he when you need him?

  “How the hell did you get into my room?” I ask, bending at the waist, catching my breaths.

  They shrug to my question and begin to move.

  “Don’t come any closer, and for God’s sake, pull that dress up,” I say as the door opens behind me.

  Stewart. Thank God.

  With his hand still on the doorknob, he frowns in confusion, seeing the girls. His gaze snaps to mine, and he throws his head back, letting out a groan. “How the hell did you get here?” he asks the girls, his fingers already working on his phone. The one with the exposed breasts finally makes a move and pulls her straps up. “Get here now,” Stewart addresses the person on the line.

  In no time, a security officer walks into the room and escorts the girls out. Stewart starts to spe
ak, but I cut him off. “Leave me for tonight, okay. We’ll talk about the tour tomorrow.”

  He exhales. “Fine,” he says, stepping out and closing the door.

  With a racing pulse, I sit down on the bed and wonder about the groupies, about women throwing themselves at me, about Phoenix. This is the time when I can’t help but think how much longer will I be able to keep on doing this? To keep on waiting for Phoenix. Will there be a day when I’ll think, “I can’t do this anymore?”

  I don’t have an answer for this, and it scares me. Because I think, in the hope to have Phoenix back, as Mom says, I’ve made her my whole world, and I have no idea what comes after her. I know it’s just my foul mood, but there are times when it’s just difficult to keep my head up.

  Shaking these thoughts away, I check my phone to see if there’s any message from home or Eric but nothing. With a relaxing breath, I grab a clean T-shirt from the small closet above the bed and slip it on. Now, I need whiskey. Before I could make a move, there’s a knock at the door. I groan. Fucking groupies again.

  The door opens slightly, and I inhale a sharp breath, ready to shout at the person opening the door. But then a hand carrying Jack Daniel’s appears, and Kylie’s head peeks in. “Hi.”

  “Hey …” I say, allowing myself to relax.

  “Want some company?” She steps inside but remains at the door with Jack and two glasses in her hands.

  “If you’re going to share that.”

  “That’s why I’m here, buddy.” Kylie walks in and hands me the bottle and places glasses on the bed to pull the curtains of the two small windows, revealing the city lights.

  Her gaze roams around, taking in the nightly view as a small smile appears on her face.

  I open the bottle. “You did good today,” I tell her, pouring Jack in both glasses. She turns my way. “Better than I was expecting since it was your first performance.”

  Her smile grows bigger, and she lays a hand over her heart. “Thanks. Your encouragement helped. I couldn’t have done this if you weren’t cheering for me there. But I was shaking … and I puked after my number.”

  I laugh, taking a sip of the whiskey. “I know that feeling, and let me tell you that this is normal because it was your first time. And don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”

  “The puking?”

  I roll my eyes. “The stage. The crowd.”

  She steps away from the window, accepts the glass, and joins me on the bed. We don’t say anything for a few moments. We just sit here with the faint noise from the traffic in the background as we admire the view from the window.

  “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” she comments.

  “It depends on what you find beautiful.”

  “Why, the lights, of course,” she answers with a small chuckle.

  “And the darkness?” I ask, unable to stop myself. I blame it on the alcohol because sometimes, when alcohol is in my system, I become very philosophical.

  I feel her turning my way, but I keep looking ahead. “No one loves the darkness. Not in the presence of lights, anyway.”

  “You don’t give darkness enough credit.” I take another sip of whiskey, letting it burn my throat. “There’d be no lights if it weren’t for darkness. And everyone has a little bit of darkness in them. It’s probably the part they secretly love most about themselves.”

  “So, is Phoenix your light or your darkness?” she blurts out then inhales sharply. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ask this. It just … I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head, not troubled by her question because I know this answer. And I think everyone else has this question as well, but they don’t voice it like Kylie. “Phoenix started as my light until she found her way into the darkness. Now, I think I’m slowly slipping there too.”

  Kylie places her hand on my arm, making me turn her way. “Love is the most beautiful thing, Kai. But it loses its beauty when it starts destroying you. And there’s nothing sadder than being destroyed by something as beautiful, as redeeming as love,” she says, and I notice the sadness in her eyes—sadness for me.

  I shake my head and look ahead, unwilling to let anyone convince me that my decision is wrong because it’s not. “But this is where you’re wrong. My love isn’t destroying me. It’s giving me strength. When two people love each other, that love can cripple you, the other person can cripple you because that love is divided between two persons. My love isn’t unrequited either. Unrequited love is where no one holds the power to destroy you but yourself. Mine is incomplete, and there’s a difference. An incomplete love holds on to hope until the very end.”

  CHAPTER 13

  KAI

  I walk into the hospital and greet all the staff along my way. I stop a few times to ask about their families because I’ve seen these people every week for nearly two years now, so they’re not strangers to me—they’re almost friends. My steps halt before Phoenix’s room—Greg is there leaning against the wall. He hasn’t seen me yet because his eyes are glued to his phone. Greg doesn’t do well around Phoenix or any other person in the hospital. The hospital was his second home when his mother was treating her cancer, which is why Greg avoids hospital whenever he can. He gets uneasy. He came to see Phoenix a few times, but he always greeted her and then quickly ran away—never stayed.

  As I move toward him, he lifts his head my way. “Hey”—he gives me a side hug—“I thought I could visit with you and your girl.”

  I open the door. “You can …” I close the door behind him.

  He drags a chair near Phoenix’s bed. “It’s been so long ... well, I have no idea. I just wanted to be here for you, I guess.” He presses his lips slightly, grimacing.

  I chuckle at his response. “I’m glad you came.”

  Greg looks around the room at the wall and the flowers. “Damn … how do you talk to her?” He runs a hand over his face. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I just don’t know what to do.”

  This is exactly how I felt the first time I came to this room. I had no idea what to do for nearly a month, and then one day, Madison gave me Phoenix’s diaries. I started bringing one with me to read, and as soon as I’ve read all the events in that diary, I bring another. It’s become a ritual.

  “I normally tell her how my week went, and then I read something from her diary. She writes about everything, including the most mundane and amazing things that happened to her,” I say, removing my shoes and ease myself on the bed. My fingers stroke her cheek, and I place a kiss on her lips.

  “May I talk to her?” Greg asks.

  I shrug. “Yeah.”

  “Okay.” He rubs his hands together. “Hi, Phoenix, It’s Greg, Kai’s brother—well, stepbrother in case you forgot since I don’t come to see you frequently. But know that he talks about you every time we’re together. This idiot here loves you.”

  Greg runs his hands down his face. “Another reason I came here today is to invite you to my wedding.” He stops and looks at me for reassurance. I hold a sigh back, witnessing his miserable state, and nod at him as encouragement. He huffs and clears his throat before continuing.

  “I have no idea if this sounds crazy right now, but since you’re almost family, you should be invited. Well, wake up quickly so that you can attend the wedding before one of the bridesmaids gets to dance with Kai. Or worse”—Greg leans closer to Phoenix—“kisses him,” he whispers. He takes Phoenix’s hand and drops a kiss there. “Wake up for my brother, Phoenix.”

  Greg looks at me, and I nod. “So, what now?” he asks, getting rid of all the flowery emotion in the air.

  I take the diary in my hand. “We read something from here.”

  “May I?” he asks, holding his hand out for the diary.

  I look at the diary, nearly afraid of parting with it because it’s one of the most precious things in my life right now. But I force myself to drop the diary in Greg’s hand, who flips through the pages before reading, “Setting fire to the library.” He looks at
me with a shit-eating grin. “I was the one who saved the library from catching fire, right?”

  I groan and look at Phoenix. “Sorry, love, my brother’s an ass.”

  “Shut up. She loves me,” Greg admonishes and starts reading about the first kiss Phoenix and I shared.

  SETTING FIRE TO THE LIBRARY

  PHOENIX, 17 years old

  01 September 2013

  I needed to complete that literature paper if I wanted to get at least a C on it, so I made my way to the library and hoped to get some work done. Dropping my bag, I took out my notepad and a pen and claimed a seat. A few minutes into the book, someone slipped a note in front of me.

  I saw a girl. Enthralled,

  This heart wondered all night long.

  All night long.

  What is she called?

  The words brought a smile to my lips, and I lifted my head to look at the person who wrote them—gray eyes. My breath faltered as his smile grew bigger. The guy from the park!

  “Hi,” I whispered.

  Instead of replying, he rolled his eyes and pointed at the note he handed me. I raised my brows—what was that supposed to mean? Looking heavenwards, he shook his head and whispered, “Answer back.”

  Damn, I could write lyrics, but when I was under pressure like this, absolutely nothing would come out. I scribbled something on the back of the paper and turned it toward him.

  Phoenix,

  The one who burns to rise from the ashes.

  And what’s yours,

  If I may ask?

  His forehead creased, probably wondering what kind of odd name this was, but then his gray eyes softened, and a smile appeared on his face. He took the pen between his fingers and tapped it on his cheek, thinking. After a few seconds, he wrote something on his notepad and showed it to me.

  Kai …

  Who likes birds that fly,

  Girls with green eyes,

  Blueberry pies

  And making the girl before me smile.

  I bit back a smile and wrote back.

  Nice name.

  I like it.

  He read what I wrote, and looked up. Fixing his gaze on me, he bit his lower lip—Oh boy—and scribbled something.

 

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