Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

12. The Boy with the Orgasmic Pizza

"We all are demons. Some of us hide them on the inside..."

Paris and the boys backed him up, voices merging into this haunting sound.

The whole café fell dead, customers swaying like dolls to this spell they put everyone under. Goosebumps rose up Delilah's arms and she felt the hairs on her arm stand again.

The drums came in and then Paris came in strong with an intense guitar riff, playing hard enough for his fingers to fall off.

When the song was done, the café erupted into cheers.

Melon Head let out a hoot and pounded the bar table with his fist. There were a couple of football team shouts, enthusiasm and excitement booming around. A fair amount of kids from their school were here.

"Put that shit on iTunes!" Melon Head cheered.

In the moving crowd of smiles and jostling drinks, Delilah stood still. Ryland's gaze followed over the crowd, but stopped at Delilah's. He stared her down, unable to look away, searching for some response, but her straight lips and eyes bored into his.

"They want the next one, Ryland," Paris whispered, the band waiting on him.

Ryland hung onto her gaze before slowly, a small part of him lifted away from her before he was fully disconnected from her gaze.

His finger pressed into the keyboard, movements zombielike as he turned the knob on the board.

The sound of her voice faded in the background, and it hurt him to not look at Delilah's reaction. He kept playing, forcing himself to get lost into the song. It wasn't until Paris plucked the strings of guitar when his music wrapped around his mind.

Sounds that Delilah have been hearing whenever she was with Ryland blended with the strings of the guitar, remixing with the song. Some sounds she wasn't familiar with, but they still had that pang of aesthetic authenticity.

Unlike everyone who sipped at their coffee or swayed to the music, Delilah's body remained rooted to the floor. Warmth bubbled in her chest, and for the longest time—she didn't know what to do.

This rush was unfamiliar, and horribly pure. The song felt real. Delilah didn't like real. She was the master of deception. She was the trickster. She was the Devil.

But this boy, this boy had the greatest trick of the all.

She didn't stay for the rest of the show. She left. She needed to get far away from this place as possible. She needed to go back home. She didn't like this warmth. She wanted the bitterness back.

She shoved her way out of the coffee shop, breaking through the crowd that tried to get a peek of the beautiful masterpiece that she desperately wanted to run from.

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The rush of the cars below her sent her on edge, toes tingling under the big drop below her. She sat on the bridge, the highway still alive at this time of day, feet dangling over the railing.

One push and she'd be done. This time, she wasn't sure she had the strength to heal herself that fast.

"I told you we shouldn't have gone on that walk," Melon Head said, carrying a flat square box.

"Whatever," she muttered. Her hands tightly held onto the railing.

He swung his legs over the bridge, converses dangling over with the box sitting on his thighs. "Their music was fucking amazing. Why did you leave?"

"Because," she stated.

"Okay." He opened the box and a wonderful smell that almost melted away all her problems wafted up her nose. "It's called cheese pizza. It's a classic here on Earth."