Tetris in Red

36: Tetris in the Headlines

Silence.

I hear him sigh and grab my hand. I quickly look to the living room but the guys are busy throwing shit at each other. I turn my head back to Alec, widening my eyes in warning. He shakes his head, his voice lowers into a soft whisper. "No, listen to me. I don't like your bullshit okay. If you're okay, at least make an effort to sound like it. If you're not okay, look me in the eye and tell me what you need me to do."

I feel a burning in the back of my eyes. Horrified, I press my fingers over my lids, my ears ringing at the sound of laughter and loud male voices. I open my eyes to see Alec, his brows pulled low, his mouth twisting in a grim line. When I speak, my words come out in a delicate breath. "I want you to stay close to me. If you will. Please."

Alec smiles at me, blindingly bright with relief. "I know you might not need me, Red, but I'm here. You are free to ask me for anything. Please do. As much as your pride will allow."

He kisses me on the forehead before turning back to the counter. I follow him in the living room, trays in hand. The guys immediately feast on the snacks we brought and grab for the beers. Alec pulls me to his side as he sits opposite from Cyprus. They all stare at us in silence, waiting. The only sound that can be heard is the nachos Toro is chewing obnoxiously.

I roll my eyes, fully aware of the presence looming over me. "What is it?"

Peyton claps loudly. All head snaps to his direction, where he sits between Cyprus and Missori. "You guys together or something?"

I chuckle under my breath.  "Cutting right to the chase, are we?"

He shrugs, grinning. "Might as well do."

I glance at Alec who's leaning back casually against the sofa. He doesn't say a word, giving me a boyish smirk and an innocent shrug. I guess I haven't clarified what we are either. I shift my attention back to the guys. "Will there be any problem if we are?"

They all avoid my eyes, except Cyprus. He raises a patronizing eyebrow at me, that smirk still in place. He keeps his mouth shut as I stare him down, but it's still as if I can hear his voice in my mind. The whispers of I told you so and indirect insults that he made sure I'll remember from our fleeting encounters.

Peyton speaks again, causing me to break free from Cyprus' gaze. "Honestly, yes?"

"Peyton," Alec calls out in a warning.

Peyton shakes his head. "No, Alec. Serious. The press is so bad already. It's a problem."

I frown. Suddenly, I feel cold, my insides doing somersaults. "What do you mean it's bad?"

Alec sits up, putting a hand over my shaky ones. When he speaks, his voice is stern, one with an underlying bit of caution. "It's nothing." He keeps his eyes to the guys. "You needn't have to worry, Rhys. Can we start now, please? Where are the music sheets—?"

"No," I say tightly. Alec stiffens. My throat feels like I swallowed shards of glass, painful and strained. Goosebumps rise on my skin as the air suddenly feels stiff and heavy on my shoulders. "What is it, Peyton?" My voice cracks at the end, fear so suffocating grips my entire being. I have a gut feeling that it's about me. I'm just not sure if I can handle it if it ever is.

"I..." He hesitates, looking between me and Alec. Peyton's eyes stay beside me, but he snaps quickly to attention when I repeat his name. "The press thought you're a stri—"

Toro jumps in quickly, effectively shutting him up. "There are speculations about you and Alec. Some articles are positive ones, some are negative, but really," he gives me a noncommittal shrug. "It's expected, Rhys. It's best if you wouldn't read any of it."

I examine them. Their shoulders are hunched, like puppies with their tails tucked between their legs. Something is wrong. Something they know I wouldn't like, something they don't want me to know. I slip my hands out of Alec's and reach for my pocket. My sweaty hands prevent me from turning on my phone. "Come on." I curse as my phone remains unresponsive.

Alec snatches it from my hands. "No," he says sternly.

I see red, then. I'm breathing hard, my hands closing into tight fists. Angry tears prickle at the corner of my eyes as I glare at him. "Give it back, Alec." I keep my tone cool and firm.

Alec's features grow unsure. Slowly, in tensed silence, he gives it back to me. I'm completely aware of the pairs of eyes watching me as I successfully turn it on. My fingers clumsily search for my name, typing it wrong a few times before I click search.

It loads and I wait with bated breath. It feels hours, feels so long as I sit with my other hand closing and opening, knees bouncing restlessly, my jaw clenching and unclenching in nervous anticipation. The guys are too silent, the dull lull of the waves overpowered by the horses fiercely galloping inside my chest. A calm before the storm, they said.

Then the results slowly unfurl in front of my eyes. And I suddenly can't breathe. I stand up, pacing, before fat drops of tears cascade down my cheeks in a rush. Everything feels too tight. The walls closing in from all around me. "No... no... no... Oh, my god."

The phone slips from my grasps. I vaguely hear Alec's voice in a distance while the headlines I read replays inside my head. Nasty, gut-churning headlines that get louder and louder every time I hear it.

A loud sob rips through me.

"A-Alec, I can't..."