Bad Nymph

by Jackie Sexton

  Backstage Sierra was super helpful with moving equipment while I went around introducing myself to the owner of the venue, the stage manager, and the manager of the headlining band, Time Warp. Everything was set to go, except that Nick and Trent both looked like they had swallowed lemons.

  “Okay,” I said once I finally corralled the guys into a private little corner backstage. “I know that stuff has been weird for everyone. But we have to put that aside and remember why we’re here,” I said, pulling out four copies of the set list from my color-coded binder. “Brandon put these together. Now can I get you guys to smile?”

  Nick looked at me in a strange way. It was almost like there was pity in his chocolate eyes.

  “What is it?” I said, trying to act like I was unaffected by the look even though my stomach was filling with dread. “If there’s something I need to know, spit it out.” I tried to catch Trent’s eye but he just looked away.

  Brandon took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “This might be our last show.”

  “What?” I said, staring at him blankly.

  “This might be—”

  “I heard you,” I snapped, fear wrapping around me in invisible coils. “Why? What the hell is going on?”

  “With everything that’s happened,” Nick said slowly, giving me a knowing look. “You know, back home and all, we just can’t continue. I had to make an executive decision.”

  “When was anyone going to tell me?” Martin snapped. “Whatever. You guys weren’t who I thought you were anyway. Later,” he said before turning on his heel and storming out the exit.

  “Martin, wait!” Brandon called after him, following him out the door.

  “You understand, don’t you?” Nick said softly.

  I knew with Sierra only a dozen feet behind us, dragging a cable over to the stage, Nick could only say so much. I nodded, trying to stop the tears that brimmed my eyelids.

  “It was only a matter of time anyway,” I said in a near whisper. “But you guys...will be safe, right?” I said, thinking back to the blonde woman on the TV. What if someone shot Trent or Brandon? I couldn’t bear to think about it.

  “I’ll take care of them,” Nick said, reading my mind. “Everyone’s safer if we call the tour off, anyway.”

  Here was everything I ever worked for slipping away from me. I blinked back the tears, knowing that I had to do whatever was best for the group, not me, not Bad Moon. But for our lives.

  “Okay,” I nodded. “But we can do this last show, right?”

  “Of course, and it’s going to rock,” Nick gave me a small smile. His kindness warmed me from the inside.

  “This doesn’t mean Bad Moon’s over,” Trent said, still avoiding eye contact with me. I wanted to scream at him, grip his shoulders and shake him, tell him to look at me dammit because I have feelings. I stood still. “Things are just going to be a little weird for now,” he said, finally moving his steely gray eyes to my face.

  There was promise there, something soft but unyielding. Damn Trent. How was any girl supposed to stand a chance?

  “Hey guys, are you ready? Some techie keeps bugging me,” Sierra said with an oblivious laugh as she came up behind Nick and Trent.

  “Oh shit,” I murmured. “Can you guys sound check Martin’s guitar and Brandon’s bass?”

  “I think we can manage,” Nick said, sighing as he looked passed me at the red exit sign. The two of them made their way to the stage and I pressed my back against the cool cement wall, taking in deep, steady breaths.

  “What’s wrong?” Sierra asked.

  “This tour is over,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment and trying to take it all in.

  “But why?!” she exclaimed. “Because you guys hooked up?!”

  My eyes snapped open and I gave her an incredulous look. “Jesus, no, and don’t scream things like that. I kinda want to keep that on the DL. The band...” I started, realizing for the umpteenth time I had to come up with a another lie this week. “Well, there are just a lot of tensions and everyone wants to call it quits,” I finished lamely, my eyes drifting to the floor.

  “Okay, I know that you’re just bullshitting me,” she said, placing her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Okay, I know,” I sighed, pushing myself off the wall. “But it’s the kind of thing I can’t tell you because it’s not my business to tell. It’s weird, personal stuff that I barely understand.”

  She searched my eyes and nodded. “I believe you. Well damn, that sucks big time. Is it over after this show?”

  “Yeah, I guess...” I said, feeling all the hopes I had for this summer crumble up inside of me. “Ugh, I’ll think about it later. Can you help me get the merch and some water from the van?”

  “Sure,” she said, following me out to the parking lot, past the line of early birds waiting for a good view.

  And that’s when I saw him. Six-feet of delicious brown skin and a smile that could kill, leaning against the back of the van.

  “Who is that,” Sierra said with that voice she used on hot boys at clubs.

  “That’s Aamir,” I croaked. “The other guy I hooked up with.” She let out a low whistle. “You already called him up?” she said. He caught sight of me and lifted a hand, his lips widening in a full-fledged goofball grin.

  “No.” I could feel the wind leaving my body as I brought my hand up to return the gesture. “I’ve been ignoring him completely.”

  “Well if you told me he looked like that my advice might have been a little different,” Sierra teased.

  “I just don’t know what he wants,” I said, even though I had a number of guesses. One being he wasn’t used to girls ignoring him.

  “Well, don’t let me stop you. Go figure out what he wants! I’ll be inside,” she said with a wicked smile, turning to go backstage.

  “Sierra wait—” I called back to her, but she just waved her hand up to the air and called out, “sayonara!” without giving me a second glance.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, feeling the sharp burst of nerves inside of me. I planted a smile on my face and walked up to him casually, as if men waited around vehicles hoping I would show up all the time.

  “Hey,” he said, his smile so adorably vibrant that I thought I would melt. He was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and a pair of leather pants. It wasn’t his usual get-up, but boy was it a look I could get used to. The line of his strong thigh sent a shiver down my spine.

  ‘His face is up there,’ I reminded myself. But I could tell from the look on his face I was too late. He had already caught me being a creep, and it seemed like he liked it.

  “Hey,” I said back, trying to sound nonchalant. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, considering you never returned my texts or calls, I guess I’m just stalking you,” he laughed. The bright sheen in his chocolate eyes shot through my body and down into my core, he was that delicious.

  “Oh, yeah,” I started, trying to figure out how to explain myself. I could feel the familiar creeping blush come over the tips of my ears and I cursed myself internally. “Um, some stuff came up with our van and the band and stuff...sorry, I meant to call you back.”

  ‘You’re a liar and he knows it.’

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Aamir said, a look of genuine concern crossing his face. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah,” I started, but when I saw the touch of sympathy in his eyes, I couldn’t help but relent. “No, actually, not really. The tour’s being canceled. So much for my summer adventure,” I joked, trying to sound as unaffected as possible, even though my heart was breaking as I said it.

  “I’m so sorry,” Aamir said, his lips falling into a frown. “That’s terrible. And Bad Moon is so terrific too.”

  “Thanks,” I said. His voice had a strangely magnetic quality, like his sympathetic words could lull me closer to him if I weren’t so terrified he’d make me and all my friends kill each other.

  ‘That’s right,’ I remind
ed myself. ‘Don’t fall for him so easy.’ He was, after all, the ex-boyfriend of that crazy nymph/fairy/freak girl that somehow got Martin to put his hands around Trent’s neck.

  “Don’t you have a show tonight?” I asked him, trying to change the conversation.

  “No,” Aamir shook his head. “We have a show tomorrow in Athens, but we thought we could spend the day in Atlanta for fun.”

  “Oh,” I said. “So you decided to see the concert?”

  “Yes and no,” Aamir said, taking in a deep breath as if he were nervous. “ I mean, don’t get me wrong, I totally want to see Bad Moon and Time Warp play, but I really came here to try to convince you to that you should hang out with me.”

  “So you stalked our tour schedule online?” I said, folding my arms over my chest as a smirk spread across my lips. It was hard not to be flattered, even if he was potentially evil.

  “Stalk is a strong word,” he hesitated, “especially if the information is online and available to the public. I’d rather call it ‘checking in.’” He did have me there. “Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s a waste of your time now. I’m going back to South Florida,” I said, reminding myself of the hard truth.

  “Come with us, Bailey, please,” Aamir grabbed my hand, and I stifled a gasp at the warm touch of his skin against mine. A sharp sting of eager nerves consumed me, pulsing against my veins, like I had had too much coffee to drink. It was shocking and surreal. I wanted to chalk it up to my intense attraction to him, but I knew it was more than that. He quickly pulled his hand away and the heat left me as soon as it had entered me. I felt strangely exhausted by the feeling.

  ‘What the hell is he doing to me?’ I wondered as my arms felt strangely leaden.

  “You can be our manager and have the adventure you wanted.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “Bad Moon isn’t over and besides...I, I don’t trust you, Aamir,” I said, finally getting the words in a rush. They were heavy, but they were there, hanging in the air between us.

  “Why not?” Aamir asked, giving me a puzzled look. He looked so sincere that I almost believed he had no idea what I was talking about for a moment. Almost.

  “Look, Aamir, I don’t know what your deal is, but sending us to the Arkansas House was really, really messed up of you. I don’t think I can forgive you for that, and I think any reasonable person would feel the same way.”

  “Wait, what are you talking about?” he said.

  “Are you kidding me?” I could feel the anger burning behind my eyes. It was one thing to put my friends’ lives in danger. It was another thing to play dumb. “I don’t have time for this,” I spat, turning on my heel to walk back towards the stage door. I’d get the merch another time.

  “Wait, Bailey!” Aamir grabbed my wrist, pulling me so that I turned around to face him. There was that shocking spike of feeling again. I pulled my wrist away, quickly, fearfully.

  “Look, if you don’t like me, fine. Say so. But don’t go making wild accusations that I don’t even understand. Just tell me you don’t like me and I’ll go.” His voice wasn’t angry, but firm. Even his look told me he was near wit’s end.

  “You really don’t know what I’m talking about,” I murmured, searching his face for an answer. He just shook his head. I suddenly wondered how much he knew about any of it, if he even did know anything about all the werewolves and demons and the so called “Other Realm.” But his touch told me otherwise.

  He shook his head, his eyes filled with hurt and concern. Whether he was lying or not, he had me in the palm of his hand.

  “They...attacked us,” I said, trying to be careful not to mention anything about Marie’s freakish powers. It wasn’t the time or place, and there was always the chance that I was wrong and he knew nothing about his ex’s magical weirdness. “There was a riot and everything.”

  His brows furrowed, and for the first time I thought I saw a hint of anger in his face. “Are you serious?” he said. “Dammit, I’m so sorry Bailey.”

  “Yeah, well...” I said, shrugging and turning my head.

  “Why did they do that to you?”

  “I don’t know, no reason really. I don’t think Marie liked me.” It was the truth. I had no clue on earth as to why that happened. ‘And if it didn’t, this tour might’ve stood a chance,’ I thought bitterly.

  “I can’t believe this...I mean, I knew they were punks and everything but I didn’t think they took it that seriously...” He looked away and sighed. “I understand why you don’t want to talk to me. Honestly, you’re too good for me. I’m going to call those punks up and give them a piece of my mind...” he said between gritted teeth. He looked different angry, but I liked it—it was rough. I couldn’t fight my attraction to him—every new expression burned a raw desire in my stomach.

  “But please, just think about it, okay? I’m not asking you to run away with me to a foreign country, I’m asking you to be our band manager. We’ll pay you and everything,” he smiled. “And if Bad Moon ends up touring again, you’ll just have that much more experience to help them out.”

  I bit my lip, remembering the plush hardness of his mouth against mine. It was ridiculous. He was offering me a job, but all I could think about was making out with him. My priorities had definitely gone down the toilet since this tour started.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, too touched by his offer (and his hotness) to outright deny him. Maybe he really didn’t know anything about Marie’s powers. Besides, it would be awesome if I could tour the country, even if it wasn’t the way I originally planned...

  “Thank you,” he said, bowing his head as he reached for my hand and brought to his lips like a goddamn prince.

  “You can’t just go around doing things like that,” I murmured.

  “Pardon?” Aamir asked, lifting his face. I shook my head.

  “Nothing. I…I have to go and take care of some stuff inside,” I said, turning to indicate to the stage door behind me. The waters could wait. I needed to know how soundcheck went...and needed to squeal and moan to Sierra. It was too bad that I couldn’t share the extent of my dilemma, but at least I could get some advice.

  “Right, of course,” he said, stepping away from me with a sheepish smile. “I’ll see you after the show?”

  “Yeah,” I said, letting out a deep breath. “Definitely.” I walked back towards the metal door, doing my best not to look back at the masterpiece of a man behind me. I only failed in this mission once, which was a hell of a lot better than I expected.

  But as soon as I got backstage, I was swept up in all the little details—Martin was back but he needed the spare strings I carried in my backpack. The stage manager needed me to sign a release. Brandon kept sneezing thanks to the damn cat.

  By the time everything was ready to go, I was ready to collapse. While part of me wanted to corral them into a big group like in Orlando, I felt too defeated to do anything to raise their morale. The stage manager, a guy about our age with gauge piercings, went over a tedious checklist that I was sure the guys retained none of. I could see the dread on their faces. This was it, and the journey had hardly even begun.

  I opened my mouth to say something vaguely positive once the stage manager left, but Martin cut me off, surprising everyone.

  “Hey guys,” he started, shuffling his feet for a moment. Then he looked up and took in each of our faces, as if expecting us to protest. I could tell by the way he sucked in his lips for a moment that he was on edge.

  “I just wanted to say...well I’ve been a total ass these last few days, and I’m sorry. But no matter what, I think you all are awesome, and I just can’t believe this is over before it even started. If you want to go on tour again...well, you know where to find me,” he said, letting out a long exhale. Brandon beamed at him, and I couldn’t help but suspect that he was the one behind this sudden show of affection.

  “Hey man,” Nick said, his lips curling up in a sweet smile. “This isn’t the end. Just an unexpected det
our.”

  “Group hug!” Brandon called out, throwing his arm around me and Sierra, pulling our bodies forward. I laughed, throwing an arm around Nick, and we all formed a tight circle of bittersweet hugs until we were broken up by the stage manager, warning us that the house was open and that the guys would be on in five.

  “Break a leg,” I said as the guys threw their guitars around their necks, kicking their cases to a dark corner.

  “Or just kick major ass,” Sierra winked. “You know, whichever.”

  Brandon laughed and I tossed him two water bottles from my backpack to take with them onstage. “Make sure you have a set list!” I called after them. Martin turned and waved me off with a smile, like the nagger that I am.

  “You’re like their mother,” Sierra laughed.

  “Trust me, you’re not the first one to say that. Now let’s go set up the merch table early. I kind of want to watch the set from the back.”

  By the time we got the table set up and all the shirts and CDs laid out, I realized with a nervous flutter that Aamir was somewhere in the crowd. I scanned the sea of tight pants, colorful hair and band shirts, but he was nowhere in sight.

  “So,” Sierra poked me in the side and I jumped, pulled out of my thoughts. “Are you going to tell me what he said or not?” I sighed and scanned the area around us once more before divulging to her the details of my conversation with Aamir.

  “Holy crap,” she said, her jaw hanging wide open. “You are so lucky.” “Um hello, weren’t you the one that was telling me I should be patient with Trent? I have no idea what to do!” I moaned, dropping my head in my hands.

  “Well...who do you want to be with?” she asked.

  It was a completely logical question. One that, if answered, could solve all my problems.

  One that I couldn’t answer.

  “I don’t know. On one hand, I’ve had a massive crush on Trent since forever, and it was only in the last few years that I really calmed it down.”