Infinite

This Ain't It

• ♫ •
Baby, this ain't it
Your lips are poisonous
Baby, this ain't it
This ain't love
Baby, this ain't it
Your touch is toxic
Baby, this ain't it
This ain't love
• ♫ •

The night before...

Luke stood at the edge of the club, wishing for a way out. After three nights playing an electric guitar that felt wrong in his hands, all he wanted to do was leave. Yet, this is what he had to do. His payment, sealed in a contract that he wouldn't dream of breaking, ended up being a year of playing for Caleb's house band, then he would have to reevaluate whether or not he wants to join it permanently. If he didn't want to, he'd have to play for another year, and then he'd be released. His only condition was that Mari could not be harmed in any way—physically or mentally—and Caleb's only condition was that he couldn't contact anyone from the lifer or ghost world unless they came to one of the clubs.

"We are heading to London tonight. Be at the club at seven thirty. I'll have an outfit perfect for the English crowd." Caleb, to Luke's surprise, wasn't as energetic as usual. Maybe that was how he always acted, but Luke barely recognized him as the same man that made him sign his afterlife away.

"I'll be there." The clock on the wall shifted from Shanghai time to London time and Caleb disappeared. Clearly, the clock had a lot of magic distilled in its gears, He had an extra seven hours on top of the six he already had to do as he pleased. It just couldn't include contacting anyone outside of the clubs, but he could write a song.

So, that's what he did.

Melodies formed, spun from his fingertips through the guitar that Caleb supplied him. Words flowed from his lips, begging for the chance to say what he wished to another soul. A hundred instruments played the song in his head over and over and over, like an ear worm. Just a few more words. A couple more harmonies. And in the space of a few hours, Luke had a song that portrayed exactly how he felt about being forced to play for a club he hated.

"This ain't it/Your touch is toxic" Venom leaked from his every word, branding the air with anger.

"That's not a bad song." Luke spun around to see Alex, and freaked out. He couldn't have contact with anyone that wasn't at the club.

But, Alex was at the club. And so was Willie.

"What are you guys doing here?" Luke asked. Did Caleb hurt Mari when he returned her home? Was something wrong with Julie or Reggie? Were his parents okay? As his mind spun with questions, Alex took his chance to try to calm his friend and bandmate.

"We're here to save you." Alex gave Luke a smile, but that only sent Luke further into a nervous spin.

"Save me? I'll only be here for a couple years. That's all that's written in the contract I signed." Luke explained the entirety of it, even showing them the paper which has their agreement written out.

"Is there any way to break it early?" Alex asked, but he didn't want to get his hopes up. Chances were, there was nothing he could do. They all know how Caleb works. How he thinks. That contract, if he did it like he did the stamps on their wrists, would be unbreakable. Or if it was unbreakable, they wouldn't know where to begin to break it. Kind of like their stamps—they still had no idea, after months, how they managed to get them to go away.

"If I talk to anyone outside of any of the clubs, I can't ever leave," Luke started, "But, if he hurt Mari, I can leave now."

"What is entailed in 'hurt Mari'?" Willie knew that the ifs, ands, and buts would get them more than anything else. The devil was in the details, and the wrong word would change their entire future.