It's funny how the media sees me as I've been seen my whole life. Quiet and a good girl.
On all the headlines, people talk about the rising fame of Icarus. 'But who is Icarus, really?' is the question plastered across the internet.
They pick us all apart and discuss us. Violet is described as the bad girl. As the one who doesn't give a fuck about the rules nor anything else. Music is all she cares about.
Though, little do they know that the only thing all of us care about, is music.
And Caleb cares about the girls who drool over him, too. And boys. Strokes his ego. I think he bragged about having had a threesome with a girl and a guy.
But that's not the point right now.
Nick is the nice guy, with a nice smile and friendly eyes who knows how to play the bass really well and has a good voice.
His smile is boyish and he's funny. Also, a scorer with the girls at the front drooling over him.
Caleb is the clown. The one who will do anything to get a laugh out of anyone and who loves attention from anyone.
He's a bit of a player, but he gets away with a lot.
And I'm the quiet girl. The one who sings a lot but doesn't do a lot of talking.
The quiet one during interviews and lets the others do the important things. The innocent one, who sings about not so innocent things.
We don't get super explicit, though. I like subtlety.
But I'm the innocent one, they concluded. As I have always been seen that way my entire life. I'd much rather read a book than socializing. Rarely speak up when people were around and yes, I'm shy by nature.
But I don't see myself as innocent.
Though, I've never known the feeling of tainting something pure. Since many have told me I'm innocence itself.
I'd let the comments fly over me.
It wasn't like I didn't know what a dick was. Or that I had never explored my own private parts when curiosity got the best of me.
I wasn't a child, though many treated me like one.
I have kissed a girl before. And enjoyed it. It never went past kisses, but it was enough for me to know what I liked.
My coming-out moment wasn't spectacular.
I walk into the living room where mom and dad are sitting, cuddled up as they watch something on the tv.
They look up and dad sends me a little smile. "Hey, dolcezza," he greets me.
I fiddle with my sweaty hands, and my whole body heats up. My heart is beating faster and my breathing is uneven.
"I'm bisexual."
With that, I turn around and exit the living room, going back to my room as if nothing happened.
They both came to my room later that night. Mom hugged me and so did my dad. They didn't say anything about it, which I appreciated. They knew I didn't want to waste too many words on it. They accept me for who I am and still love me.
It happened a year ago. And the kissing-a-girl thing happened when I was around sixteen. But back then I didn't realize it.
It was when another girl kissed me at a frat party where Delilah had dragged me to, did it. That's when I knew.
But back to my fucking point, I never saw myself as innocent, as I've said.
Yet, as I'm seeing Ares kissing a girl in the hallways of the arena, I feel innocent.
I feel hot all over my body and my lips part, though not a sound leaves them. I've seen people kissing, but have never witnessed it this... passionately.
It's like Ares knows what he's doing. He's gripping her waist and angling her head back, all the while she's moaning and burying her hands into his silky strands that I've fantasized so much in my head.
The strands that seem drenched with ink, that I feel weirdly possessive about since I made it a whole thing in my mind.
I prided myself in not shying away from anything people protected me about. I've seen porn, which I concluded a long time ago is very shallow and not for me. But still, I've seen it.
I've had guys send me dick pictures – unsolicited, though I didn't gasp or throw my phone away as soon as I saw what the picture contained.
But fuck, I never imagined that I'd blush this hard upon seeing someone kiss.
Realizing that I've been staring enough as a creep, I straighten up and clear my throat. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt," I bring out in a small voice, making the two people break apart.
The brunette girl turns her head, eyeing me as if annoyed that I interrupted them. I'd be annoyed too, can't blame her.
But then electrifying blue eyes meet mine. And it's the first time in three years that Ares has looked at me again.
With indifference, still, but his gaze feels like a drug I might never recover from.
His lips are red and a bit swollen from the... activity he was just partaking in. And the girl's lips are the same way.
I've never seen her around, so I wouldn't know her. Maybe this is a secret girlfriend he had kept away?
He's known for not wanting to share his private life.
His bored gaze glances at the girl again. "Alright, I had my fun with you. But now it's time for you to leave, groupie."
Never mind, not a girlfriend. Not at all.
I shouldn't feel relieved about that.
The girl gasps. "Excuse me?"
"You're excused," Ares responds dryly, pushing himself away from her.
"I brought you here because I was bored. You can show your way out, yeah?"
The girl just gapes at him, before shaking her head and scoffing. Her shoulder bumps into mine when she marches past me.
With a frown, I watch her disappear in the hallways, on her way out. And then I focus on the god of war still standing here, raking his long fingers through his hair as he lets out a sigh.
His band is rehearsing in the other arena here, and I wonder what he's doing on this side of the building.
He's supposed to be with the others.
Yet, all I can focus on is the way he treated the girl. Spoke to her in such a derogatory manner.
"You could've been nicer to her." Why are you saying this? It's none of your business.
"And what do you know about any of that?" he asks, throwing another impassive glance my way.
My throat runs dry, but I still manage to swallow.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I meant," he says and leans against the wall, crossing his arms, "for an innocent girl as you, what do you know about treating people after having slept with them?"
Oh, so he fucked her. Makes sense.
Why is that your main concern after what he's just said?
"I'm not that innocent," I frown. "Your blush proves otherwise," he retorts, trailing his gaze over my entire body.
Making me feel naked.
I'm not wearing anything that reveals me, though. It's the last day of rehearsal. We're leaving tomorrow and then it's a day of rest.
I've been practicing like crazy the last few weeks, and my vocal coach plus Malcolm have been telling me that I'm doing a perfect job at everything.
So, my nerves have settled.
But I'm not wearing anything revealing right now. Only a top and a vest, that's zipped up halfway and a pair of comfortable and wide jeans.
My hair is up in a ponytail and my face is free of any make-up. Yet I feel like my whole body is free of anything when I have his eyes on me.
"I always blush," I lie. He only hums in reply, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step toward me.
I automatically take one back, regretting my actions since I don't want to give away the fact that he intimidates me.
"Do you?" he asks, his voice soft yet holding a dangerous edge to it.
I nod, never taking my eyes off of his. How could I? They're too beautiful not to look at.
"Then why does the media say otherwise? That's you're... pure and untouched?" he asks, and then places his two hands above my head, looking down at me.
Because he's been walking towards me and I've been walking backward until I bumped into the wall, which I hadn't realized.
That's how captivating his eyes are. Damn it.
And I don't think my anxiety is handling this well, either. My whole body feels like it's on fire, but strangely, I don't want to get away from him as fast as I can.
As I've said, his gaze is a drug I'll forever be addicted to.
"You believe everything you read?" I ask him, tilting my head up so I can take a good look at him.
He's looking down at me, supporting his weight on the wall beside me as if he's doing a push-up. And god, does he look good.
"I do when I see it for myself," he murmurs. "And I wonder..." he trails off. I frown.
"Wonder what?"
"What it'd feel like."
"What are you talking about?"
"Corrupting you," he whispers.
That shuts me up. Has me clenching my thighs together, too. Because the way he said it, sends shivers down my spine.
"Corrupting the good girl everyone is talking about," he continues and leans down, running the tip of his nose across my cheek.
I'm speechless. Literally do not know what to say. All I can do is stare at him, feeling my heart doing over-hours. The sweat is on my skin, and yet I crave more of his presence and words.
Our eyes meet when he leans back, and fuck, those eyes are the death of me.
"What?" he asks and a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.
"At a loss for words, quiet girl?"
And with that, he throws the words back into my face. The ones he used three years ago.
He remembers me.
But he doesn't give me time to process it. To process the fact that he remembers me. Because it has my heart almost beating out of my chest.
"Now go," he orders, "before your anxiety attack gets the better of you. You look like you're about to faint."
. . .
I am about to faint idc.
Ares has a choke-hold on me.
Y'all breathing okay?
Because for the first time, I made myself blush writing about an interaction between the MC and the love interest.
Anyway, thanks for reading lol.
I love you.