Page 14 of Bloom in Darkness

Astra’s scent reaches me before I round the corner, sour beneath the familiar sweetness with the faint medicinal trace I’ve started associating with the cream in his bag.

I stop at the edge of the floor and watch. Astra is standing near the back hallway with one hand flat against the wall, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while a tremor moves through his fingers.

Sabine is speaking to him in that clipped, controlled voice she uses when she wants someone to feel small without giving anyone nearby a reason to step in. She taps her finger against the screen of her tablet, and Astra’s eyes track the movement. She’s adding another fee, and I’m already moving toward them.

Astra sees me before Sabine does, relief crossing his face before his mouth tightens when he gets a good look at me.

“Bryn,” he says, and the warning in his voice is quiet enough that Sabine glances over her shoulder.

Her expression barely shifts when she notices me. “You’re not working tonight.”

“I know,” I tell her, already looking past her at Astra. He straightens too fast and immediately has to catch himself against the wall again, glassy-eyed and breathing too carefully for me to believe the answer before I even ask. “What happened?”

“I’m fine.” Astra closes his eyes for a second before opening them again.

Sabine gives a small sigh. “He’s tired. He missed line-up, stumbled through his first set, and then decided he needed twelve minutes for a five-minute break.”

“I told you I was dizzy,” Astra says, his voice sharpening despite how worn out he looks.

Sabine barely glances toward him. “You told me you needed five minutes.”

“I needed more.”

“And the rest of the schedule needs you onstage.”

Astra’s scent sours harder as my hands curl at my sides. Sabine notices, and Astra’s grip tightens against the wall when he sees where she’s looking.

“He has another set in fifteen minutes,” Sabine says, looking at me now instead of him. “If he can’t manage that, I’ll replace him.”

Astra blinks hard, but one tear slips free through the glitter on his cheek.

I take a step toward Sabine, but Astra catches my wrist before I get any farther. His hand is warm and trembling, nowhere near strong enough to stop me if I decide to keep moving, but the quiet “Please” coming out of him does.

I look down at him. His eyes are wet, but his gaze is steady.

“This is my job,” he says quietly. “Don’t do anything.”

“You’re not okay.”

“I know.” His throat works when he swallows, and he wipes quickly under one eye with the back of his free hand. “I know I look like shit and I know I’m shaking. Just please don’t make this worse.”

My jaw locks. Every muscle in my arms wants to put Sabine through the nearest wall, but Astra asked me not to.

Astra’s fingers tighten around my wrist as much as they can. “For tonight. Please, Bryn.”

I hate every word of that. I hate Sabine standing there listening, and I hate that Astra has to ask me not to defend him because defending him could cost him more than whatever satisfaction I’d get from breaking her tablet over her head. He asked me to leave it alone, though, so I force my hands open. “Okay.”

The word tastes like shit, but some of the tension leaves Astra’s shoulders when I say it.

Sabine gives me the faintest smile, and I look at her until it disappears. My hands start curling again anyway.

“Bryn.”

Astra doesn’t have to say anything else. I force them open. “I said okay.”

Sabine checks her watch. “Good. Astra, you have thirteen minutes now.”

His mouth flattens, but he nods. “I’ll be there.”