The woman tried to climb up but was too drunk or high. Her makeup was running down her face and her eyes couldn't focus. She finally gave up trying to get up. Caspian leaned back and began looking for the closest security.
"I love you," she gasped, her hand driving into her oversized hoodie sweater. A gun came into view, barely clutched in her hand.One gentle knock and she'd fumble it, I thought, but it all happened too fast to act.
She pulled the gun up and my heart lurched, a painful pinch in my chest. She made the barrel kiss her, shoving the tip past her teeth, her fingers shaking and eyes never leaving Caspian. No one seemed to notice yet but me. Even Caspian was looking away, motioning over security.
Someone bumped her, her body spun slightly in place.
A bang went off so loud it boomed above the quiet part of the song. My ears rang high-pitched, disorienting me.
Blood sprayed, sprinkling my face. It splashed over Caspian too, as if someone flicked a well-coated paintbrush over us both. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The body slapped the edge of the stage and flopped to the ground. An unmoving lump of clothes and limbs that I didn't dare to look at.
Everything halted.
There was a pregnant moment of processing before the screams started—a crescendo of fear grating my ears and nerves.
Caspian looked at the edge of the bloody stage in mild disconnect. The same look someone might have when seeing a long line at the coffee shop. It was the wrong expression with someone's blood and fluid coating his face.
His eyes slid to me and I jerked my gaze away, suddenly scared of what I might not see in his eyes. Normal things like alarm and distress. He hadn’t even jerked when the blood slapped his cheek. He hadn't even hesitated to look at whatever carnage the woman had just inflicted on herself.
The swarm of bodies pressed on me and began to drag me back. I reached out to the edge of the stage as a guy kept yelling near my ear, asking over and over what was going on in a panicked shout that put me on edge. Shrill cries and barked shouts were everywhere.
My attempt to grab the stage failed, my fingers slipping from the smooth, wet edge. Blood, I realized. I just swiped my hand through blood. Maybe more than blood.
Suddenly I was surrounded by panicked bodies who felt the need to flee at any cost. The tangy, fermented stench of sweat clogged my nose. Animalistic fear shone in wide, dilated eyes. My gaze darted around as I struggled against the pack and I felt someone's elbow push sharply into my ribs, making me jerk in pain.
This was bad. Panic started to develop under my skin.
A large hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged me back to the stage. I looked up as Caspian encouraged me to get on the stage with him. I crawled up and he quickly wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pressed my head down, into his chest. I clung to his warmth.
A moment later we pushed into a backstage hallway. The sounds were loud behind us, echoing around the walls on either side. Then the door snapped shut and the sounds were muffled. I tugged my head up as Caspian kept walking. He slid his hand down my head until his fingers curled gently around the back of my neck.
Anger made his features look sharp and menacing. He huffed out a frustrated sound and ran his fingers through long strands of his hair, pushing it out of his face. Then he looked down at me and smoothed out his face in an instant, replacing aggravation with concern.
“Are you okay?”
I didn't respond. Half of me still felt like I was in the sea of people, being pushed back and forth like an angry wave about to crash down. Caspian stopped immediately in the middle of the hall, turning towards me, eyes darting around my face and body.
"Are you okay?" He asked again, dark brown eyes dragging me in as he bent closer to my height. I let myself ignore the blood on our faces. I nodded and he nodded back before sighing. His hands rubbed up and down my arms, then he tugged me into him, encasing me in a hug.
My fingers slid over the rippled texture of his abs before my arms wrapped around his naked torso, hugging him back. Finally, I shook off the chaos of the crowd as I soaked in the feeling of him. It had been too long since we were like this--maybe five years now and I’d missed it so much.
An hourand a half later we were finally done with security, cops, and workers. Now the scene almost felt like a dream—a crowd thumping in chaotic energy, a girl shoving a gun in her mouth.
Caspian had made me play Candy Crush on my phone the whole time we dealt with questions and waiting around. Apparently, games helped disrupt potential trauma from being hard-wired in your brain.
“Aren’t you going to play too then?” I had asked, looking up at his long body draped on the chair next to me. He’d slid his arm over my shoulders and smiled, small flecks of blood were still on his jaw that he had missed.
“I’ll be okay,” he’d said.
Now we were in front of a door labeled “band”, where a building worker had left us. Instead of going inside the room, Caspian stood facing me, his thumbs rubbing in circles over my wrists.
"I'm sorry it all went to shit," Caspian said in disappointment. Our height difference was dramatic—six foot five to five foot two.
"It's not your fault."
"I wanted the show to be perfect for you." A frown tugged one side of his mouth. God, he was handsome. That had always been undeniable but now with the air of a grown man,it felt overwhelming. I felt stifled by it, my mind struggling to let me move on.
"You still managed to impress me in the time you had. I’m sorry I was late,” I sighed. “My mom and aunt were trying to talk me out of my trip. They think the travel photography job is suspicious." His eyes slid to mine, a nervous look coming over him. Just then the door beside us opened and the drummer stood there eyeing us through his crumpled neon green mohawk. He raised a pierced eyebrow then looked at me specifically.
