Page 31 of The Masks We Wear (Satan’s Angels #1)

Ivory gives me a threatening glare and then focuses her eyes on the waitress, grinning. “I’ll take that mai tai. Some people have a hard time remembering they don’t get to tell me what to do.”

My eye twitches as I look at the side of Ivory’s face with pure rage. The waitress glances at me, unsure what to do. “I’ll take a Moscow mule,” Aria asserts, her eyes on me the whole time.

The waitress nods awkwardly and walks away to fetch their drinks. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? Do you want Selene to quit on us?” I raise my voice, my anger getting the better of me.

Aria snorts a laugh, “Selene isn’t here so she won’t know. Not unless you decide to snitch.”

Ivory leans in closer to me and cocks her head, “Yeah, are you gonna snitch, B?”

I lean in, not backing down. “When have I ever snitched on you?”

“At the studio,” Aria replies. I know exactly what she’s talking about. The one time I ever ratted on them. It was at the studio, weeks ago, right before the tour started and I had my outburst about being the only sober one on the tour.

Ivory shrugs, “Who knows, you might snitch again. Hard to tell with you now that you’re sober and fucking boring.”

There it is. The thing I was scared of the most. I feel my heart sink into the pit of my stomach as my face falls.

“Seriously, Brody, what happened to you? You used to be fun and then Selene tells you you’re getting sober and gives you this babysitter, but you don’t even try to have fun.

The Sticks that we know would stop at nothing to have a good time,” Aria adds, sinking the knife in deeper.

The waitress returns with their drinks, and I struggle to find words.

Instead, I push out of my chair and start walking away from them and to the elevators.

Harvey follows behind me, close at my back and I just wish for once, I could be entirely and completely alone.

I push the button for the elevator, and it pings, signaling the elevator is on its way down.

I cross my arms over my chest and try to keep the tears at bay just a little longer.

I feel that familiar feeling I get when I know Harvey is watching me, but when I turn and find the set of eyes on me, it isn’t Harvey because Harvey is at my back.

It’s a man with an oily smile on his face and a dangerous gleam in his eyes, seated at the bar.

I quickly look away, ignoring him, as the elevator doors open and I hurry inside.

Harvey enters behind me and I make sure to stay as far from him as possible.

He doesn’t say anything to me, still hellbent on ignoring me I assume.

When the doors open to our floor, I hurry out of the elevator and down the hall to where our rooms are.

I rustle in my pocket for the key as my chest starts to shake and the dam holding my tears back starts to break down.

Warm, salty tears roll down my cheeks and I keep my head down as I scan the key over the reader.

Just when I open my door and step inside, a hand lands on the doorknob to stop me from entering.

I know it’s Harvey’s, but I don’t turn to face him.

He’s seen me cry once and I won’t let it happen again.

“Brody,” his voice is low, calm. I can’t help but hear the pity in his tone.

“Don’t,” my voice cracks as I try to push the door open, avoiding his hand.

He exhales, “I know you aren’t okay,” his breath feels closer to my ear and I shake him off.

I shoulder the door and push it hard enough that his hand falls and he steps back, avoiding brushing my shoulder with his arm.

The lengths he’d go to to avoid touching me is the final nail in my coffin.

“I’m fine,” I lie as I slam my door shut in his face.

He doesn’t say anything from the other side, nor does he try to come in.

I watch through the peephole in the door as he just walks away as he always does.

You’d think by now I’d get used to him walking away from me but for some reason it hurts more every time, especially now.

Maybe it’s because when I was having those issues with the girls before the tour, he was there.

Now that I’m having issues again, he isn’t there. He’s here but he isn’t here .

I sink to the floor as sobs wrack through my chest. They tear free from my throat and I cry out.

You’re sober and fucking boring . Ivory’s words cut through the walls of my heart and drive home.

Might as well call it the “No Fucking Fun” tour.

Aria’s bitter words leave me broken. These are my best friends and everything I was afraid of happening, is happening.

They’re done with me and soon enough they’ll replace me entirely and Brody Drake will exist to nobody.

I’ll be irrelevant again and all I’ll have is my brother and my parents who can’t stand to look at me, too disgusted with my choice in lifestyle.

I’ll have Selene but even she won’t want to be bothered with me.

She’ll be too busy managing Satan’s Angels, Ivory and Aria, and whatever fucking drummer they replace me with.

I bring my knees up to my chest and hug them as I cry into the denim of my jeans.

I’ve worn a mask for so long, pretending to be someone I’m not so that people will worship and like me.

I’ve tried so hard to be relevant and to stay at the top that I lost sight of who I was completely, and I accepted that fate.

I thought it was a small price to pay to keep my fame and my friends but now?

Now I’m losing it all and I won’t even have Brody Drake when it’s over.

I don’t know who I am if I’m not Sticks.

I have an unfamiliar feeling in my gut like I just met a stranger but the stranger in question is myself.

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THE TEARS STOPPED SOME time ago and the headache settled in.

I tried to sleep somewhere around midnight, but it just wouldn’t come.

My eyes burn from crying and they’re puffy and bloodshot.

My lips are also puffed up and the frown on my face feels almost permanent, like it will never go away.

I decided to take a steaming hot bath, hoping it would at least cure the headache.

I love a hot bath but I’m no fool, I know it isn’t fixing the broken pieces of my heart.

It may however just settle the pounding in my head and lull me to sleep.

It’s after one in the morning now, and I close my eyes. The silence in the room pains me and I’m surprised to find that even in my pain, song still finds me. My song lyrics I came up with before the tour started, come back and play in my head.

The red and blue lights shine right in my eyes

She stops and demands I say my goodbyes

Anger arises as I learn I’ll never be coming back

The Devil sends temptation as a form of attack

They told you I’m the serpent in disguise

But you know you’re not in danger when you look in my eyes

The beat I created on the drums for this song plays with it and I know it’s still missing something, that something being the sounds of Aria’s guitar and Ivory’s bass, but I accept that the song will never hear their melodies or chords.

Not after this tour and not after our contract is up.

I’m sure when it ends, they’ll be finished with me too.

I feel a twinge of pain in my chest for the song that will never be finished. It would’ve been my first song I’ve ever written completely in both lyrics and melodies. I let the first verse play on a loop in my head and then suddenly, more words start coming to me.

Another curtain closes and the drugs funnel in

The darkness is our only sign it’s time to begin

I see him, temptation of his own watching me, is he real?

Just one look from him and I know I’ve lost

The words just come to me and I play them together in my head, verse one and verse two.

It still needs a chorus between them, but what’s important and impressive to me, is that I was able to create these on my own.

That I, Brody Drake, horrible user of words, was able to come up with lyrics and the world will never hear them.

My headache eases only slightly but the exhaustion creeps in.

I push the drain in the bathtub with my foot and it makes a loud popping sound as water begins to disappear down the drain.

I rise and grab a towel from the side of the tub, wrapping the fluffy fabric around myself.

I step out of the tub, wiping the flyaway hairs from my face and pushing them up towards the messy bun of black and blond hair on my head.

The exhaustion weighs so heavy, I’m almost confident I can finally sleep.

I traipse out of the bathroom and into the bedroom in search of my suitcase.

I stop when I find that it’s open. It was closed when I left, I was almost certain.

I never leave my suitcase open because I have a lot of expensive things in it, mostly jewelry.

I drop to my knees and rustle through it, in search of pajamas.

I probably left it open by mistake. My mind has been scrambled all day and I wasn’t paying close attention to anything else.

I find a pair of black sweat shorts and a matching crewneck and toss it to the bed.

I rustle around, in search of a pair of underwear but frown when I don’t find any in my suitcase.

My assistant packs my suitcases for me and she has never once forgotten to send me on a trip with underwear.

Maybe I put my underwear in a drawer without noticing?

I open the drawers and search for my belongings, but I find them all empty.

Something doesn’t feel right. An eerie feeling washes over me and I hug my shoulders, unsure what to do.

Maybe I can call Selene. I know it’s late but she’s usually up at this time.

The woman runs on no sleep and is fully functional at all hours of the day. I’m sure she’ll be able to help me.