by Amo Jones
“Hmmm,” She smirks. “What a shame.”
I push up from the chair and kiss Kenan goodbye, who is already scolding Callan as I walk out of the bus. I don’t know what her problem with me is, or if it even is a me thing or a Killian thing, though I don’t know why. Killian and I haven’t so much as given any impression that we are anything but enemies.
I clutch the items that I’ll need for all of my outfit changes in my hand, taking them to my cubicle in the tent behind the stage. It’s where most of the makeup, hair, and outfit changes happen. I need them there for tonight, not for right now, and I’m excited for the addition of the horns. A touch that Ashley gave to me after our session last night. They’re not big ugly horns, they’re cute ones that clip onto my hair and stay.
We practice. I choose my song.
And the day is almost over with the sun setting by the time I make my way back to my bus.
“Sass!” Ash comes running over to me, a smile on her face. “Hey, I just want you to know that you’re going to be amazing tonight. I’ll be right there if you need me, but I got to say…” She pauses. “You’re a natural. What did you say your last name was again?”
“Thanks, Ash, and it’s Royal. Nothing of importance.”
“Oh,” Ash says, her smile faltering. “I’ve not known a Kiznitch family with that last name.” She tilts her head, her focus drifting off, and then she comes back to me. “Anyway, good luck!”
The show has started, with the Angels and Demons opening. Delila agreed to shuffle around the acts and have me fire bending with the dragon staff first since it does take a bit out of me and I still need to do my duet dance with Kenan and our crew performance, not to mention the final act, which I don’t completely partake in, but do enough to be considered something… so she has put my biggest scene first, and then that gives me enough of a break between acts.
“Great,” Callan snaps from beside me. Her mirror cubicle is right beside mine. Everyone rushing around behind me filters into white noise as I glare at her.
“What, Callan?”
She runs the bright red lipstick over her lips. “So now the whole show moves for you.”
“Callan,” Kenan warns, his tone forceful.
“That wasn’t my idea,” I tell her, fluffing my hair up farther and fixing my horns. My eyes are smudged in black, my makeup heavy. I’m wearing the same outfit with the snake on my leg too. I pet-named him Cal. I guess you can think where I got that from.
“So what!” she snaps. “It’s not fair.”
“Saskia, you’re up,” Kyrin says from behind me, opening the back curtain.
I drag my attention away from her and stand, turning to face him.
He stills, his eyes dropping down my body. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. The way his gaze drags up and down my body is loud enough for me to feel violated.
The curtain opens wider and Keaton steps through, but when he notices me, he falters. “What—wh?”
“Wipe your mouth, brother. You’ve got some drool coming out of your mouth,” Kyrin growls.
“Oh I’m going out to watch this.” Keaton smirks just as Perse slides in from behind him and pulls me into a hug, kissing me on the cheek. “You’re going to do amazing. Go light some fires.”
I step onto the stage, the curtain still closed. The dragon staff I know awaits on the other side and I clutch the fire sword in my hand.
“Tonight, we’re excited to showcase one of our newest girls who has an obsession with fire… ladies and gentlemen… meet, our very own Hellhound…” I flick open my Zippo and light the tip of the sword just as the curtains open.
The entry music starts playing as I swing the sword around through the dark, creating a loop of fire in the air. I lean down and light up each ball on the dragon staff. The crowd silences as I turn to find Killian perched on a chair on the stage, a spotlight on him. I’m thrown off. What the fuck is he doing there?
He leans forward, his clown made-up face coming into view and his abs tensing with the movement. Motherfucker. He curls his finger with a smirk, pointing to the sword.
I make my way toward him and hand him the sword as the crowd—me included—gasps when he opens his mouth and slowly swallows the sword down his throat, cutting off the flame and the spotlight at the same time. The audience screams in shock—along with me internally—as I make my way back and pick up the dragon staff. “Toxicity” from System of a Down starts playing as I roll the staff over my back, arching forward and grabbing it again, swirling it around my body with the tune of the guitar. As the verse comes back in and the song slows back down, I flick it around my body again, rolling it over my arms and across my neck. Flicking it forward, I run it over one arm and pick it up again. The crowd loses their minds, adding fuel to my adrenaline. The flames lick over my skin as I get lost in the song and performance. Coming to the end, I arch backward in bridge from standing position while twirling the staff with my right hand and reaching backward with my left hand until I’m completely arched with one hand on the ground and the other twirling the staff.
The audience goes crazy again and I use that as fuel. When the beat speeds up, so does my spinning of the staff. Slowly, I lift one leg off the ground and flick it into the air as I place the staff onto my bare belly, rolling it backward over my face and I quickly press my other hand to the ground and flip backward, back to standing, with the staff now safely secured back in my hand. The song cuts. My breathing deepens. Everything is silent and I stand nervously, thinking I had done something wrong. Just as I’m about to dart off the stage, people roar off their seats, clapping and shouting, and whistling. My breathing is manic, my smile wide. I fucking did it! The curtain closes and I turn around, crashing right into Killian’s chest.
My smile drops. “Sorry.”
He grabs the staff off me and kicks out what’s left of the flames. “What are you sorry for?”
“Bumping into you,” I say, dragging my attention away from his slick bare chest and coming face-to-face with his clown makeup painted face and wolf contacts.
He brings his fingers to my chin and tilts my head up to his.
I hold my breath.
His hand drops as a slow smirk crawls onto his face. “Hmmm.”
Hmmm?
“What does that mean?” I ask as he steps away from me.
“It means get out of my way, Little Hellhound.”
I start making my way toward the backstage, but not before he turns to look over his shoulder. “Oh and Sass?”
“Yeah?” I pause my step. “Your rope dart act? I’m going to need you to swing it low to the ground.”
Before I can ask what it is that he’s talking about, he disappears through the curtain.
“Sass!” Perse yells, poking her head around the curtain. “Change!”
Shit.
I quickly dash into the cubicle and slip into some short jean shorts and a little crop top, wrapping a chain around my belly for extra sorcery. As I’m putting on my finishing touches, Kenan comes up behind me, his arm wrapping around my belly. He leans down into my neck. “You ready to knock the stadium down?”
My lips curl against my teeth as I giggle. “So confident.” Running a brush through my hair and cleaning up my makeup, swiping away the dark charcoal around my eye, I exhale. “I’m ready. Just… don’t drop me.”
The curtains are open, but the room is dark. Darker than usual. My feet are bare, and it’s the first time I thought how odd it feels to have the sand from the center ring pressed between my toes. All I can hear is the deep thundering in my chest and the shuffling of the audience. “Unsteady” by X Ambassadors and Erich Lee starts playing softly just as Kenan hooks his hand in mine, swinging me out and pulling me back in. The start of any dance is always a bit rusty, but it doesn’t take long before I find my groove. He picks me up by my waist and throws me around his neck and back until I’m standing on my feet. The audience loses their minds, but I’m too wrapped up in the zone to pay an
y attention. The song is heartbreaking, the dance intimate. Way too intimate. It’s a song and dance about losing the love of your life, but not through death, but through adversity that, at times, people can’t endure. Love is not guaranteed, and the hardest thing the human heart will withstand is dealing with the loss of someone who is still alive. With every movement, every toss, every embrace, it has me trying to reach inside my brain for anything. An anchor that will help me with the emotions of the song, but I come up with nothing. Kenan swings me up and I flip, landing with my legs hooked around his neck before he flips me backward and I land back onto my feet.
The song ends and the curtains close, but not before you hear the roar of praise.
I’m huffing still, my breath struggling to catch up. It was by far one of the hardest routines I’ve ever done.
Kenan pulls me into his damp chest, heaving. “Damn! Did you see that?” The adrenaline you feel after successfully performing is hard to explain. It’s as though your entire body is set on fire from the inside, but you have no desire to put the flames out.
“I did!” I laugh, swiping the sweat from my face. Kenan disappears back behind the curtain, just as Maya winks at me as she makes her way onto the stage with Val and Mischa. Val and Mischa have been on the aerials and hoops since they were kids, Perse said, and you can tell. Their petite bodies and slim frames that bend and twist and spin. Maya isn’t someone that you would picture doing such feminine routines, but apparently Delila bribed her.
I whip the curtain aside and make my way back to my cubicle when a bike roars to life outside. I pause in my footsteps, wondering why the bikes are back on right now. The triple wheel of death has already been on, and the stunts are at the end of the show, so I tiptoe to the back, sliding the plastic out of the way to see Killian perched on his bike.
He catches me staring, slowly pulling his cigarette out of his mouth.
“What are you doing?” I ask, knowing that my rope scene is on after the aerial.
He glares at me. “You’re up next, right?”
My eyes narrow in suspicion. “Yes.”
He kicks the stand down on his bike and swings off, walking toward me. I make a conscious effort to try not to look too hard, but it’s hard not to notice when Killian is in the room. Any room. He could be in a crowd of models and still stand out.
He rubs his hand over his sharp jaw before bringing the cigarette back between his lips. Inhaling. He stops in front of me, flicking the barely smoked cigarette out to the side. I’m suddenly aware of his proximity, my throat closing and making it hard for me to swallow.
“Look at me.” His voice is low, a note above a whisper, and my stomach does a backflip. Why the fuck does it do that?
I clench my jaw, refusing.
He chuckles. “So fucking stubborn.” Before lifting my head up to face him with his finger beneath my chin. He searches my eyes. I bite down on my inner lip in an attempt to numb the feelings that are rushing through me right now.
He opens his mouth—
“—Hey!” Maya comes up from behind me, and I flinch. I’m such a fucking idiot. I know the type of guy Killian is, only he’s much worse than any of the boys from the Keys. Far worse than the rich entitled brats that liked to flash their boats and parents’ money. Killian and this world are so much worse than any of that, yet here I was, ready to let Killian work whatever mindfuck game he wanted to play with me.
“Sorry, was I interrupting something?” Maya asks, looking between Killian and me. I notice her somber expression.
“No—” I assure, turning around and leaving them to it. Killian comes with drama, I know this. For one, he’s sleeping with a girl in my act. Two, he sleeps around, period. With a lot of girls. He’s actually the worst out of all of The Brothers, and three, his best friend is in love with him.
He is everything that is wrong with the men in this generation and I need to stay away. I needed to stay away from him before all of that, and even more so because of that.
I step into my cubicle, ignoring Perse, Kenan, and Callan who were talking when I rushed back inside, desperate for something, anything, to take my mind off the fact that I almost let the enemy kiss me. I flip on my hair straightener and pull out the clothes that I’m going to wear for the rope act. A button-up crop top that cuts low and leather shorts. I yank off my shorts and toss them to the corner, just as the curtain tears open from behind me.
I turn my head to look over my shoulder, my hair falling over my back. Killian glares at me, before he breathes in my almost naked body. “What do you want, Killian?”
“The fuck was that?”
I bend over—yeah, a little bit on purpose—and pick up my new leather shorts, standing back straight and slipping them over my legs and ass. I turn around while doing up the button. “That was nothing.”
He steps closer. Suddenly, my skin prickles with his presence.
“Kill!” Perse scolds, coming between us. “Leave her alone.”
“It’s fine, Perse, I can handle him.” I glower at Killian as the words slip from my mouth.
“Oh, Baby G…” Kenan whisper-chuckles from behind me.
Killian laughs, his head tilting back as his teeth flash. He brings his eyes back to mine and bares his teeth. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Then he turns and leaves, taking my breath with him.
I sag forward, pressing my palms on my thighs.
“Jesus,” Perse whispers, whacking me with the back of her hand. “That is a fire that you cannot bend, baby girl. He will not only burn you down, but the rest of us with you. That is where he and King are different. Killian is reckless and malicious. He vibes at a different frequency than all of us.”
“He’ll be fine.” Even as I say the words, I don’t believe them. I know that there is a lot of substance to what she is saying, but the second I admit it, I allow fear into me, and that’s something that I’m not willing to give him access to. Besides that, Killian is the trickster of them all. He plays with people’s minds for shits and giggles, without any care of what that would do to the person’s life.
Turning back around, I blow out a deep breath and continue to get ready for my final fire act. Slipping on the horns, I smoke up my eyelids and ruffle my hair. Finally, I slip to the back, clutching the rope in my hand and a Zippo in the other.
The curtains open and “Play with Fire” by Sam Tinnesz starts playing as I spark the ball up and start swinging it slowly in circles. I keep an eye on the gas that drips to the ground, making sure there’s enough there to ignite when the time comes. “Drop it low.” I’m bent sideways, the ball flinging in circles. I swing it lower as I hear Killian’s bike rev from the other side of the tent. I glance up and smirk at the audience.
I have no idea what Killian is about to do, but I get the feeling that if I just go with it and act as though I trust him, no one will end up in the hospital tonight. He hasn’t driven up the ramp and onto the stage yet, but every now and then, he revs the loud Harley dirt bike, and the audience doesn’t know where to look. I begin swinging the rope in full circles around my neck, using my head as its harness. I flick it open and throw the ball out, bringing my leg up as I curl the rope around my ankle and flick it out to the back of me.
The audience shouts in excitement, once again feeding my confidence. Confidence that you need to get through shows like these. The song slowly remixes into “STARGAZING” by Travis Scott and I slow the swing again just as Killian drives the bike up onto the ramp and next to me. He revs the engine until it redlines, before his ass end starts spinning in circles around me. Holy. Holy shit. The smoke is thick, so thick that the audience probably can’t see inside and can only make out the circle of fire from the ball being spun around fast. I swing the ball lower when I see the trail of gas is still fresh. Just as the song slides into “You’ll Float Too” by Scosa and Quadra, the circle where Killian just ripped around lights up with me right in the middle. I can hear Killian’s bike outside of the ring as I continue to flick the
ball around. The fire is dying out, so I know it’s about to stop, and then what?
Sure enough, the fire stops burning on the sponge and I drop it to the ground. The ring of fire drops to a simmer and the audience pauses. A few people take a seat. My confusion is something that they probably think is part of my act.
Only they’re wrong. I have no idea what Killian is playing at and suddenly Perse’s words seem more serious. “He’s the trickster. He’s malicious.”
Kyrin and Keaton drift out from behind the stage. They’re all made up in the clown makeup, loose jeans, and wearing no shirts. Realization slams into me instantly.
I’m their next act.
“Alone—Unplugged” by Sayk—404 starts playing. They’re notorious for using this tune for their scene.
Shit.
Killian turns his head over his shoulder once he’s in front of me, smirking at the audience. Everyone starts clapping and cheering him on as he pushes me down. I freak out, my arms flying out until I land on a chair.
Removing a bandana from around his neck, he drops down to face me. His eyes search mine, a smirk still so powerful it feels as though he’s punched me right in the stomach. “Ready?”
No? I want to say, because I’m not. Only my mind isn’t like the usual. I won’t allow him free access without a fight.
He ties it around my mouth so only my eyes are in view before flipping the scarf up so it’s finally covering my eyes. I can smell his cologne in the material, combined with gasoline and nicotine. My breathing thickens as colorful dots dance behind my eyes. What would happen if I let go? Music pirouettes around me, urging my mind to come out and play. Just a little. If only, out of sheer intrigue. Half of me is afraid what Killian and the boys could do, but the other half is enthralled.
Dark red lighting saturates my mind. Fishnet tights. My devil horns. A red lollipop being pulled from between my glossy red lips before being delicately slid back between them. Red. I suck on it as the lights begin to flicker, and Killian stalks toward me. He’s wearing no shirt, light blue denim jeans that are destroyed for vanity, and his trademark smirk. His body presses against mine as his hand comes to the front of my throat. He squeezes, cutting off air.
