"Are you sure this is such a good idea?" asked Melon Head.
"What?" Annoyed, Delilah didn't even glance over her shoulder to the ball cap wearing dork.
Melon Head removed the joint from his lips and breathed a cloud into Delilah's face.
She began coughing, waving her hand as he casually explained, "I mean, last time we went on a walk—we almost got killed by your ex fiancée who you ripped from the ball sack up with your own two hands, not to mention you reversed time and passed the fuck out."
"Well, HB said to try this amazing thing called 'pizza'," she said with air quotes. "She told me to just walk down this street and we should see this little store that apparently offers the best lunch in all of the universes."
Melon Head raised his brow. "Is it healthy?"
"I...I don't think so."
"Then I'm in," he agreed. He crushed the joint in his hand and dropped it down the sewer, staring a little longer at the metal circle before shivering and walked over it.
"Of course. You eat like those big, fat animals."
"Your mom?"
"You're annoying as shit, you know that?"
He grinned back at her, hitting his forehead with hers before walking ahead, singing to a little tune.
Suddenly, a familiar sound came from the speakers outside. Her heart picked up. Delilah quickened her pace, taking a left turn.
"Where are you going?" Melon Head asked.
She walked faster. She chased the tail of music, it teasing her instincts around. "I know that sound..." she distantly said.
A crowd formed outside the coffee shop across the street and she moved across, ignoring the car honks and swerve of tires. She shouldered her way through, her walk almost ghostlike as the familiar sound hooked her attention.
She recognized that sound. It was the sound of the cars rushing by the highway; the static ssshhhh noise channeling from the front of the shop.
A different sound mixed into the air as the familiarity of it all tugged at her curiosity.
Then realization trickled down her mind and clicked into place.
It was the sound of the coffee grinding at the café she and Ryland visited. The squeak of what sounded like a swing rocking from the park blended into the song, creating this ghostly tune that sent the hairs on her arms standing.
The tap tap of Delilah's pen hitting the desk in detention dropped into the mix, setting that tempo. She knew that sound. She heard it almost every day. There was the echo of her cliff screams and Ryland's.
There was the sound of rain, it producing a hush noise throughout the song.
What was going on?
Then her back stiffened.
A voice began to sing.
With one part of the headphone on, Ryland controlled his keyboard-DJ-controller, pumping a good beat through the air. His mouth wasn't moving.
"Delilah..." Melon Head stopped behind her. "Isn't that your voice?"
But she kept walking, towards the stage.
She watched Ryland get lost in his tunes, making art with his fingers and music in his soul as he orchestrated a symphony of sounds. Suddenly, he opened his mouth, bringing it close to the microphone. And he began to sing.
"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.
+++
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."
She leaned over, growing close to Melon head and sniffed. She poked her finger into the yellow stuff. "What's that?"
"The cheese you idiot," Melon Head said and poked her forehead with his finger.
She shoved him a bit to the side, and he grabbed onto the railing instead of falling. She laughed and then stuck her hand in, trying to scoop up the whole circle.
"Hey! Hey! Careful!" he said, swatting her hand down. "This wasn't free you know! Plus, that's now how you eat it!"
She huffed. "How come?"
He carefully ripped a certain part of the pizza, it peeling off in a triangle shape as a cheese string dripped and went a little slimy. He put it way over his head, tilted his mouth back and fed the pizza into his mouth.
She did the same, taking a bite into the warm slice. "Wow." String dripped from her bottom lip and Melon Head laughed. "Screw Paris's cookies. This is the shit." She kept chomping down and was already grabbing another.
"You know how painful it was to not eat this on the way here? More painful than when you broke my leg," he said.
"Poor muffin," she cooed and took another big bite out of the pizza. They both groaned, sinking their teeth into the cheesy goodness. "Better than sex," Delilah groaned.
"Better than drugs."
"Better than you."
Melon Head snorted. "Please. I'm ten times better than this greasy treat. We're talking about the Melon Head. Have you ever met another Melon Head before?"
"There's watermelon, Tuscan melon, Galia melon, cantaloupe, white honeydew—"
"You're a dick."
"Addicted to you," she said, and he laughed.
"You're such a fucking tease. It makes me sick."
"You know you love it."
He laughed again and shook his head, biting into another slice of the pizza. It wasn't long until they emptied the whole book, stomachs full of warm cheesy and gooey goodness.
"Feel better now?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands in her jacket pocket. "Meh. I've felt better."
"I'll accept that," he said and swung his legs back over the railing. "C'mon. Paris is making homemade spaghetti with meatballs that are actually the size of his balls—so he claims."
"That actually sounds horribly delicious."
Melon Head didn't even offer her a hand as she nearly fell over the bridge while trying to climb off. "You know, Delilah," he began. "Change can hurt, but it leads a path to something better."
She swerved her head around in a 'wtf' manner. "Where the fuck did you get that from?"
He shrugged and took the pizza box with him. "I don't know. I think the cosmic forces were trying to send me some wise shit or the universe was trying to speak to me." He threw his head up. "Would you mind just giving me a heads up, you lazy assholes!"
Then he looked back down at her and added, "Anyway, they got a point. Who knows—maybe you'll actually keep the baby and you and Ryland will raise a little demon child together."
"Sounds awful," Delilah said.
He did another shrug. "It could happen."
"Yes. Assuming Ryland and I would be dead, then yeah, I'd consider that." She whacked him over the head. "If you're telling me it will be good to just let Earth humanize me, then you've clearly been doing too much weed."
He gave it a thought. "You're probably right. I have been doing a shit ton of more drugs here than I usually do back in Hell."
"Speaking of which"—she casually asked—"How do you think the good ole underworld doing without me?"
He shrugged. "Probably leading some horrific war without your permission in order to feed their craving for ultimate domination."
She sighed. "Fantastic."
They started walking back to the car, one that Paris lent to him that both Melon Head and Delilah had to share. However, Delilah didn't know how to drive and luckily, Melon Head did.
"So anyway." Melon Head opened the driver door and slid in. Speaking of change."
Delilah plonked herself on the front passenger seat, shutting the door a bit harsher than Melon Head liked. "Technically you weren't speaking of it since you brought it up a few topics ago. Really, I wasn't actually speaking of it at all so you using such a lie to bring up a topic I don't want to is totally rude."
He put the key in the car, the engine rumbling. "You don't make sense. And you didn't answer my question, dumb bitch."
"I will, slut," she snapped. "I left because their music was...it was real. You know very well what that means."
"So what? Maybe you won't ever turn fully human," he suggested. He entered the town again, passing by shops and the stream of people still crowding in the coffee shop.
"I can't forget why I came here." Delilah stared out at the shop until it disappeared from her car window.
"Whatever, D. You do you, boo. You do you." He stayed silent before sneaking a small glance at her. "Just don't hurt anyone, okay?"
A grin spread across her lips and she leaned back.
"This is the Devil you're talking to," Delilah said. "It doesn't matter what ending I choose or the decisions I make. Death follows me around like a lovesick puppy and it just can't get enough of the people I want to keep safe."
+++
A/N:
What do you like on your pizza? :)
Also, where are you all from? I'm very curious. :)
Please comment your thoughts on how you think the story is going.
Thank you so much for all the support, readers! Honestly, I'm surprised people still like this story which is totally rad and I'm eternally grateful for it.
You rock!
Don't forget to vote! :)
Xx
twister