Five girls wait, outside the gate, they will all meet a cruel fate.
The one in the blue, the one there for you, the one in the bandana, she’s really quite cute. The one in the plaid, the one with her Dad, all will be dead. Sucks to be you. If you tell one single soul I’ll kill them and Luke, tick tock little drummer the first dies during song two.
Feeling sick, I forced myself over to the window and looked out at the crowd and instantly my heart sank. About forty percent of the girls below wore blue, I could easily count three hundred girls in plaid,, nearly everyone had a different colored bandana, and annoyed looking Dad’s forced into pink One Direction shirts by their daughters dotted the crowd. It could be any one of them.
Suddenly the door swung open. Stepping back from the window I watched as Luke walked in.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hi,” I answered, trying to imagine a world without him in it, but I couldn’t, I couldn’t tell.
“I just needed tissue.” He replied, taking a handful, and blowing his nose, before looking back at me, “Are you okay?”
“No!” Michael moaned, running into the room and puking into a urinal.
“Ew Mikey!” Luke yelped.
“Don’t drink the chocolate milk.” Michaels groaned.
Crossing over to him Luke squatted beside him and patted his back.
“Get off of me-ugh!” Michael snapped, interrupting himself as he got violently sick again.
Gross,” Luke whispered, stepping back next to me.
“I uh…. I’ll be back.” I muttered, starting for the door.
“Are you okay?” Luke called after me, “You look sick too?”
“It’s the milk.” I called over my shoulder, making my way back into the dressing room then through it to the door leading to the hallway.
Struggling to keep from flipping out completely I hastily typed a reply to the text.
Me: What do you want? Why are you going this?
Pacing the hall, I tapped my phone against my palm waiting for a reply watching as the sun sunk lower and lower in the sky and our start time drew nearer and nearer, and then, just when I was about to give up, an answer came through.
mr.v@gmail.com :
There’s a gun under the chair where you drum, you have until the end of the first song to kill Calum.
~
The hum.
That stupid hum.
It came before every show, usually bringing with it, a feeling of excitement and joy but now all I felt was fear.
Next to me Luke did the school of rock thing with Michael’s hand, while Calum, bounced from foot to foot eagerly, his eyes wide with excitement and a grin splitting his face. There was no way I could kill him.
Ten seconds.
Someone informed us.
I would be the first out.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. My heart nearly stopping I pulled it out, then froze at the sight of the message.
C 1 1
319 7 13
125 14 40
106 25 70
116 43 116
Confused, I stared down at the list wondering what the numbers and letter meant.
“What’s that?” Luke asked peering over my shoulder.
“Nothing!” I snapped.
Rolling his eyes, Michael snatched the phone from my hands, laughing before he tossed it back to me, “Those are seats dumb ass, what are you doing mapping out hot chicks you want to bang? You do realize as the brother of your girlfriend I am morally obligated to bash your face in.”
“No,” I cried, “No, I…. it’s nothing, but…. These, you’re sure their seats?”
“Yeah,” Michael answered, “Why?”
I opened my mouth to reply however before I could I was being shoved towards the stage. Feeling like I was going to pass out I blinked as I forced myself forward, my ears already ringing from the screams. Walking out onto the stage, I raised my drumsticks over my head with shaking hands then brought them down, making the shrieks impossible louder. Then came Luke, running past me and onto the catwalk, Michael and Calum.
I didn’t want to be here, I didn’t want to sit on top of a loaded gun, I didn’t want to know that five innocent girls were targeted, hand selected at random to die but I did know, and I was here, and I was forcing a smile, and I was drumming, and it took me several seconds to realize I was singing, as we loudly played Eighteen to the cheering crowd.
Shaking violently and trying hard not to mess up I allowed my eyes to wander to the sections, where I knew the blissfully unaware girls sat. And then I saw her, in section C row one seat one. ‘The girl there for you’
She was older then some of the other girls around her but not by much, maybe eighteen or nineteen. She was wearing a black shirt designed with my name the way I wrote it in tape on my drums. A red plaid shirt was tied around her waist, and on her wrist was a tattoo, in the same place as mine, however while mine was the outline of five tally marks, hers was filled in. She was pretty, but not jawdropingly, she wasn't really stand out in any way she was just…. a girl. A girl that liked me a lot and while she was watching me with completely love and excitement, the universal fangirl tears of ‘omfg he’s right in front of me I think I’m dying!’ filling her eyes, I was watching her, my eyes filling with tears for a different reason, knowing she was going to die.
Part One Hundred And Ten
Start from the beginning
