Page 34 of Hunger & Harmony

Am I being dramatic? Sure. I think I’ve earned it as I shakily open her chat. I always have read receipts on, and my lungs tighten at the thought of her knowing I’ve seen.

Life Giver

Where are you? This is serious.

Please. We saw the footage.

The third message she sent is a short video. A sick dread lurches in my stomach when I play it. While only twenty seconds long, it’s damning evidence of me trailing after Arteria, undoubtedly a staff member amongst a sea of security and fans. That was the Sunveil kick-off, and when I think about it, isn’t it obvious the media would catch clips of me?

There’s nothing I can say to defend myself. There’s also nothing I want to say. I can’t shake the feeling that if I do, the spell will be broken. Back to rags, pumpkins, and deafening silence.

I’m sniffling and attempting to fix my sorry appearance when the sway of the bus slows. It’s only been an hour since our last break. Why are we stopping?

Collective grumbling worsens the wrong notes when I step out of the bathroom.

“What happened?” I ask as I approach the sitting area.

Even Ezren can’t fake a smile in my direction. Everyone, including Niko, stares at the sound guy in the middle of the room. Impatience and irritation stick to the already suffocating air.

“Everyone’s here, so listen up,” Cam says, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses. “The bus broke down.”

“What? Why?” Ezren asks.

Variations of frowns and crossed arms portray the morale perfectly. I hug myself, eyes drawn to the tinted window. The sun is already setting, and outside is nothing but dense evergreens and browning grass as far as I can see. Will we ever get to leave this damn vehicle?

“Hell if I know,” he admits. “Roadside assistance is already on the way, and none of our other buses are having issues. This shouldn’t affect our schedule too badly.”

“So . . .” Lorelai trails off.

Selene fills in the blanks.

“We’re stuck.”

I almost miss the frequency of wrong notes just a moment ago. Almost.

Ever since that fatal night, I’ve heard them. Ominous humming from nowhere, and the occasional flat notes that accompany. Now, the wrong notes take a sharper turn. Faster. It has my teeth grinding, my body wincing even as I try to hold it in.

It’s not just off-pitch and echoey. This is different. This is worse. Like a broken song, each note is off-key and jumbled. My hands itch to cover my ears as the near syncopated music replaces the air.

My gaze darts around. No one else is reacting like they hear it. Their frustration doesn't crescendo to distress like me.

Only Niko catches my eye for a moment. I sharply turn from him, trying to contain my reactions.

Whatever Cash is saying to us is lost to the chaos. There’s almost no point in sticking around.

Without anything but my fraying sanity, I dash towards the door and throw myself into the crisp twilight.

Immediately, the painful static dampens. I manage to close the door behind me, and that helps further. I can’t stop to worry about what everyone thinks. Frantically, I glance around for somewhere to hide out for a bit.

Fading daylight sparkles against something to my right, up near the end of the bus. My eyes widen when I see the metal ladder, and it clicks.

After pulling myself up onto the roof, my shoulders drop. Up here, I let the scent of pine and damp earth envelop me. It slows my heart rate as I settle onto the frigid metal surface, legs crossed and eyes gently closing.

I don’t know how long I remain still. The last calls of birds and wildlife settle into a deep quiet, and the descending temperature relieves my flushed face. When I open my eyes again, the emerald evergreens are silhouettes against the deepening sky. Even twilight is fading. So has my acute panic.

No music. No wrong notes. I don’t have to hear everything that’s broken. I’m just . . .here.

Shivers run up and down my body. My long-sleeved Henley shirt and jeans aren’t cutting it like a coat or indoor heating would. I’m not ready to go back, though. I hug myself tightly and look to the sky.