I must take too long to answer because Damian sighsagain.
“Okay, I’ll let them know that we’re still on for tonight.” He pushes himself up and leaves the room without another word.
I bury my head in my pillow and fight back the tears.
Maybe I’m a terrible person.
This isn’t the life he wants.
Ravvi doesn’t either.
Am I using them to make sure I succeed at my dream?
Fat tears spill from my eyes as I struggle through the wave of nausea.
Suppressants really are awful, but I know what happens when an omega bonds. They want to nest at home with their alphas. They lose all drive to have a life outside of making little baby alphas and omegas. Their entire purpose becomes caring for their pack.
Being an omega is part of who I am, but I didn’t choose this. The universe made a mistake when it selected my designation. I don’t want to be coddled and protected. I’m not sweet and tender like every other omega I’ve met. I’m not satisfied with the life my designation seems to guarantee me.
I cry into my pillow until I fall asleep.
It doesn’t last long, though.
I’m woken up sometime later when Creed pops his head in the door to let me know it’s time to practice.
My whole body aches, and I have to remind myself that this is what I want out of life.
Because sometimes?
It’s hard to remember that I chose this.
Chapter Five
Damian
Music is in my blood.
Hell, I don’t even mind performing, which is weird because I hate people. Crowds freak me out, and I get overstimulated easily.
Being on stage makes it easy to tune all of that out.
Darkest Nights works because we all play multiple instruments. Well, Creed is happy on drums, so he tends to stick back there, but he’s every bit as talented on lead or backup guitar. He and Riot could be fronting their own band, if that’s what they wanted to do. They have the voices for it.
I’m sure, at some point, we’ll lose them as they branch out on their own. Honestly, I pray every day that Cove gets tired of this life and makes the decision to call it quits.
We’re finally picking up traction, but I’m fine with using that to launch Riot’s and Creed’s careers without us.
My sensory issues haven’t adapted well to a life on the road. Coming in, I knew I’d be uncomfortable. I just didn’t realize how consistently miserable I’d be.
The only parts of life that I don’t hate lately are when I’m close to Cove and when we’re on stage. The interviews, the meet-and-greets, and being trapped on the bus are starting to kill my soul.
I don’t understand how my dads did this shit for the better part of a decade. I mean, by the end, they were so well-known that they were able to cut back their schedule significantly, but even doing this for a year or two feels like hell.
Not that it’s all bad.
The rush that comes from hearing thousands of fans chanting our names is extreme, but then all those fans expect our attention offstage, and that’s when I hit my limit.
It’s all part of the game. To be successful, we have to engage with the audience to build the loyal superfans who launch careers into the top ten and buy every version of a record.
