Someone screams so loudly, it's enough to blast one's eardrums.
At the back of my mind I have a vague idea that maybe it is me screaming. I can only hear white noise after that.
There's a dead man in front of me. I haven't seen a sight more terrifying. It's mutilated and lying on the ground, face unrecognizable.
Stuffing my hand in my mouth, I step back, feeling repulsed at the sight of so much blood. He must have been a handsome man, but his features are twisted now.
Blindly sidestepping, I fall into something cold and solid. Arms.
Looking back, I see a man, his face extremely pale.
I jerk away thinking that I'm hallucinating.
What in hell is going on?
This day is crazy. After a simple walk with Tara Desai, my best friend, I see a dead body in the park and then the hot guy Brandon from Fog It Up? Huh?
He looks pained as he pulls me away from the area, murmuring something under his breath that I can't quite catch.
I rip my hand away from him. "What the fuck? Why are you not disturbed by that? And what are you doing here?"
"Shh, Kathryn. I will answer all your questions later. Come with me."
How does he have answers? Why is he not confused?
"No." I shout. My head starts pounding. "I don't know you. Stop. Just tell me what's going on. If you really do know anything."
With immense gentleness, he opens my closed palms. "You're bleeding. Let's get you cleaned up." His voice is soothing, rich and I relax minutely, nodding. He leads me away from the mutilated body. I don't know why I'm not doubting more, but my brain feels heavy and my skin tingles- both at the proximity of him and the whole scene I just witnessed.
Why am I walking to a stranger's house? What am I doing? But I can't seem to stop, my thoughts get muddled as we get closer to a bunch of buildings.
We finally reach a house, which has red bricks and brown roofs. The typical houses you see in Disney.
I raise an eyebrow at Brandon and he shrugs. "It's my house."
Shaking my head, we walk ahead. He jiggles the keys a little. I am starting to lose my patience when finally the door opens.
"After you," he bows mockingly. I lift my imaginary skirts and smile. More like a grimace.
I enter and look around, expecting guns to be pointed at me, or perhaps some kind of torture devices. Instead, it's just a plain living room, with framed photos, white walls and ceilings, a very dusty fan and brown couches.
"It's not much, but it's something." He runs his hand at the back of his head, probably feeling embarrassed.
Not knowing what to reply, I just say the first thing that comes to mind. "Can I use the bathroom?"
"Mhm, go left and the second door is the bathroom."
"Thanks." I murmur and rush towards it, feeling very awkward.
I check my reflection in the mirror, my face white as bone, a scared look in my eyes. I splash water on my face and comb out the tangles in my hair, looking better than before. A part of my mind knows going to a stranger's house is a "shoot me- here's a gun" kind of move, but it's like the rest of me is...paralyzed? I don't even know. God, I need answers and he probably is the best person to get them from. One suspicious move from Brandon and I will haul my ass outta here. And then again- when have I ever made rational decisions?
Taking a deep breath, I go outside. My breath catches in my throat. My blood moves sluggishly at the sight of him.
His shirt is off and I can see hard muscles covering his entire torso. His dark hair glints in the light as he pulls on another shirt, that brings out the green in his eyes. I feel slightly disappointed to see all that hotness covered by a t-shirt.
Sauntering towards him, I place both my hands on the sofa and lean forward, hoping I look intimidating, and ignore the fast beats of my heart.
His eyebrow lifts up questioningly.
"Tell. Me. Everything."
With a grimace, he sits on a chair and pats the sofa next to him. Grudgingly, I sit down, crossing one leg over the other, looking at him expectantly.
"I am not associated with the murder."
Murder. This is so huge. I wish I could erase the last fifteen minutes of my life. I should run, I want to, but my body doesn't want to listen to me. I'm just frozen.
"Right. You just happened to be there. Were you following me?"
Brandon groans and buries his head in his hands. For a second, I want to rub his back but I hold in the urge.
"Go ahead." I order, only feeling slightly guilty about bossing him about.
"Do you want to go get a drink?" He asks, amused. "We shouldn't talk here. I just came to grab my phone."
I should probably say no, but then again, it's better to be in a public place rather than his house. At least if he tries anything I can shout for help. If he is actually even remotely associated with that body, I will be safer with people around me. I think.
I nod quietly and leave the hall, open the door and shiver in the breeze.
He touches my shoulder, electrifying me and my brain goes into some sort of fuzz. Like some white haze. I shake my head like a dog, trying to clear it.
Wrinkling my nose, I open my mouth to ask him. "What am- what am I doing here?" I was in the park and then...something happened?
The.. the body. There was a body wasn't there? Brandon was right next to me. How did I get here?
He cocks his head to the side, holding my hand. "Don't be silly. I told you that I owe you an apology for my behavior at the dance hall. I'm taking you out for a drink. I broke up with Savannah."
"You did?" I raise my eyebrows, feeling very confused. We had something very important to talk about, but I can't remember what it was for the life of me. His touch just makes me forget about everything else. Literally. Should I be worried?
Brandon smirks and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering near my temple. "Having trouble remembering? Don't worry, my looks make people forget everything except me."
I blink twice. "Right. Of course."
Extending his arm for me, I take it with a tight smile. Something inside me is screaming to run and stay away from him, but I ignore it. What is wrong with me? He's been nice and now we're going out. That kiss he shared with that girl did shake me, but he said he broke up with her, so I'll take his word. Innocent until proven guilty, right?
His skin is cold as ice but not in a clammy kind of way. The feel of his touch sends sparks shooting up my nerve cells. I have to regulate my breathing so that my obvious reaction to him becomes- well, less obvious. I rack my brain to remember one very important piece of information, but I get frustrated with every try.
Fuck it. How does it matter anyway?
The night is calm and the leaves rustle, the sound almost musical accompanied by Brandon's humming. It sounds very similar to the Lion King song- Hakuna Matata. My blood hums along with his tune, heart beating out of my chest at his proximity. I will myself to calm down.
Fog it Up is only a fifteen walk away. The cars on the street make me shudder, they all drive so fast, bringing up my made up scenes of how Kieran my brother must have died. I didn't see it, but when I grieved, my brain kept bringing up scenarios in which he could've died.
We reach the dance floor, right next to the drinks bar. I see girls wearing, or not wearing much clothing, grinding into drunk men. The music is loud and pounds in my ears, making me dizzy. The DJ has questionable choices in music though.
A sign outside says that it will be an open music bar from eleven pm, and seeing that it's ten forty five, maybe the music will improve when the people get on stage.
With a smile, my companion drags me to the bar area, where the barista gives him a glittery wink and leans forward. (That guy from yesterday isn't on duty today then.) The amount of makeup she has on right now must be all of the makeup I've ever owned in my entire life.
Her fake tan and dyed blond hair make a terrible combination and I want to tell her so, but I keep my mouth shut.
"Hello there pretty boy. What would you like today?" Her boobs are spilling out of her deep necked dress and her entire body pressed hard against the table. She reminds me of his good ol' ex.
"A whisky and- what do you want, Kathryn?" He turns towards me.
I want to slap the barista who just rolled her eyes at me behind his back.
I smile sweetly. "A vodka please. Make it strong."
"Okay, then." He looks completely confused and I feel a moment of pity for him.
"You heard what she said." He says mildly to the woman.
With a huff, she turns away and begins preparing our drinks.
As usual, my gut tightens with guilt. Every time I go into a bar, memories flash- of Dad drinking and stumbling back into the house, of mum getting tired of him sleeping late in the morning and always complaining. His drunken mistake led to Kieran and that is the only time I was happy that he drank. But still, I might just be like him and I know I should stop but I can't. Maybe I'm weak or maybe I just have better control over myself and won't end up like him. I hope it's the latter. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I pay attention to what's going on around me.
"Thank you," he calls out to the barista who gives him his drink, touching his hand not so subtly. Then she bangs the drink in front of me. "That will be twenty thirty five."
I blink. "We'll pay you when we're leaving."
She narrows her eyes and goes off to serve another customer.
What's her deal? I wasn't even rude to her but she already has a problem with me.
Brandon chuckles and gives my hand a nudge, gesturing me to drink. With a grimace, I raise the glass and tip my head back, the bitter drink scalding my throat as it goes down.
*
"Wanna dance?" I ask wryly, running my hands through my hair. The third or maybe my fourth drink emboldens me. Brandon looks at me amusedly, licking his lips lightly.
My stomach flips over, butterflies flitting around. The disco lights make his hair glint and shine, his eyes look even more unnatural in the dark, almost glowing. He leans back and shakes his head. "I doubt you'll even be able to stand after the seventh drink."
Maybe it wasn't just four drinks then.
"Well, then you will have to dance for me." Okay, my words are definitely slurring now.
"Kathryn, calm down." He warns as I take my eighth shot of alcohol. I don't even know what I ordered.
"You're paying, right?" I ask, leaning forwards. My skirt is already short and it goes even upwards as I cross my legs over one another.
His blue-green eyes rake my thighs and his gaze is like a soft caress.
Shivering, I get up and pull him over to the dance floor. I unbutton my coat and throw it across the room, not caring that I might never find it again. The music is certainly better now, since a young man is on the stage playing a guitar along with a few other handsome boys. His shirt is lying on the stage and his abs glisten with sweat.
The room is hotter where more people are. The thickest crowd is in the center and that is where I go. Brandon keeps grumbling about me being too drunk, but I ignore him.
I sway my hips with the rhythm, eyes closed. Raising my hands in the air, I shout with the others, adrenaline coursing through me. I bounce on the balls of my feet, feeling happy after a really long time. With a laugh, Brandon joins the dance, dangerously close to me. I run my hands up and down his biceps.
I'm still dancing, but I open my eyes and check out the singer. Tattoos cover his chest and arms, swirling black lines of ink that probably speak meaningful stories, but I'm too drunk to concentrate.
"He's hot." I mutter. "He sings so well."
"That guy?" Brandon asks, his voice stiff, pointing at the singer.
"Mhm." I hum. "That one. Can you sing, Brandon uh, what's your last name?" I feel stupid but I really don't know why.
"Scott." His expression is partly closed off and partly amused.
"Yeah, uhm can you sing like the hottie over there, Brandon Scott?" I put extra emphasis on his last name.
He cocks his head to the side. "I would love to demonstrate."
Even though ninety percent of me is alcohol, I knew he would rise to the bait. Men and their egos.
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he winks and walks to the stage. The song is almost over and only a drummer is playing some beats.
Whispering something into Tattoo Guy's ear, he nods and claps his back, taking the guitar.
I stop dancing and only tap my feet to the sound of the background music. He looks at me once and my heart flutters for the umpteenth time. Why is he so beautiful?
Sitting on a stool, he strums the guitar once and clears his throat. "I'm only doing this so that I can prove that I can do anything."
There are a few scattered laughs, and a smile tugs at my lips.
"Get ready for a panty melting performance." Another cheeky wink and he starts playing a soft melody on the guitar.
I must admit, he plays really well.
"I used to wanna be
Living like there's only me
But now I spend my time
Thinking 'bout a way to get you off my mind
I used to be so tough
Never really gave enough
And then you caught my eye
Giving me the feeling of a lightning strike
Look at me now, I'm falling
I can't even talk, still stuttering
This ground I'm on, it keeps shaking
Oh, oh, oh, now!
All I wanna be, yeah, all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah
Is somebody to you
All I wanna be, yeah, all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah
Is somebody to you
Everybody's tryna be a billionaire
But every time I look at you, I just don't care
'Cause all I wanna be, yeah, all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah
Is somebody to you"
My mouth drops open. He can actually sing. His voice is like angels singing, as sweet as honey and he's really cool. He even slides across the stage like a dancer. If I don't know any better, he might just be a secret superstar. The song's over and everyone claps and I think I do too. He comes back to me and smiles like a devil, showing pointed teeth. "Told you I could sing. Better than that hottie." My mind is getting blank and the floor starts tilting.
"You look funny." I mutter. "Your face is all twisted. You're hot, though. Really hot." I lose balance and just as I am about to hit the floor, Brandon catches me in his cold arms as if he is used to catching fainting girls all the time. Maybe he is.