Just Because (Completed)

Chapter 4: Keiran

4Keiran

I woke to the soft sound of singing. I recognized the music. It was one of my songs from the band's early albums, Just Because, and it was beautiful. The gentle voice knew every word and tone, and it vibrated through my head in such a way that, for a split second, I thought I'd had a horrible nightmare and I was back on stage. Cracking my eyes open, however, showed me still on the floor in some sub-level area of a caved-in basement.

With more pain than I'd ever felt in my life.

Just the prospect of moving sent a shooting ray of agony through my legs, and I gasped as goosebumps broke out over me. It was then that I noticed the arm wrapped around me, and the pressure of a cheek rested against my head, both of which slowly withdrew as the singing stopped and I came awake.

"Keiran?"

I closed my eyes again as fingers sifted through my hair. Delilah's voice was so soft, so gentle. So unlike Janet's or the guttural screams that fans usually shouted at me as soon as I came within view. Not that I didn't appreciate their adoration. Without the loyalty of our fans, Broken Souls would be nothing at all, but I sometimes hated the way they threw themselves at me. I couldn't count the number of teen girls who'd groped me or women that asked me to marry them seconds after flashing me their tits as I walked by.

Though they obviously adored me, I knew it was my looks that attracted them more than anything else, and their superficial affection often made me feel like a piece of meat. It made me wary to ever meet with fans one on one.

Then came Delilah.

Though she'd said that being a fan of mine was an understatement, she'd shown me nothing but kindness in the short time we'd been together. Of course, circumstances were radically different than they would have been had we simply met backstage like she'd paid to do. We were both trapped underground, and my legs were twisted up like pretzels in the rebar and steel beams that had once built up the stage. For all I knew, I'd never walk again, and my career would be over.

Until someone found us, I was completely reliant on Delilah, and I found myself grateful that she was there; grateful that I wasn't alone. It had me wondering about the guys. If Dominic and the others were okay. If they'd made it to safety. They were like brothers, and though I was closer to Nico than I was to Ash and Lunar, to lose any of them would be devastating to me.

"Hey, you awake?" Delilah's hand rubbed gently over my chest, and I craned my neck to look up at her. Her brows were furrowed in concern, lips pressed into a line as she looked down at me.

"How long did I sleep?"

She shrugged. "Few hours, maybe. We don't have much sense of time down here."

"Have you heard anything? Any sounds of people?"

She shook her head. "No, nothing yet."

Nodding, I looked down, realizing for the first time that she'd removed her jacket and draped it over me. The denim was soft and warmer than the drafty air of the room, and I nuzzled into it a moment before pushing it off of me.

"Thanks," I said as I set it on the floor beside me. I noticed as I did so that my right arm had been wrapped up in black fabric, and I frowned as I looked over it.

"You had a nasty cut," Delilah said from above me. "Afraid the scar will cost you a few tats."

"Ah, bummer."

Though as I said it, I almost smiled. From the area of the pulsing and stinging beneath the fabric, I could tell the cut had slashed right over the tattoo of Janet's name. I almost couldn't wait to see her face when she saw it was ruined. Fingering the wound, I angled my head to see Delilah again.