Page 9 of Vengeful Melodies

I turn to Wren. “Can we go home now?”

He nods, still red in the face, and bolts back to the driver’s seat. The truck door slams shut.

As we pull away from Bradley’s house, I glance back one last time.

Grey rounds his car. Alix stands beside him, watching us drive away. There’s something in his eyes—a softness, a sadness.

He looks like he wants to say something… but doesn’t.

So I say something for him.

“My name’s Dreya. Dreya Lorena,” I call out softly. “Maybe next time we’ll meet under better circumstances, Alix.”

I offer a faint smile.

Then we’re gone.

Chapter Four

Takoa "Koa" Dravensin

The metal railings send a chill through my hand as I ascend the stage. The mic stands front and center like a beacon—guiding me home.

Music is the only thing that sets my soul free. It gives the world a glimpse of what I usually keep buried: the pain, the heartbreak, the weight I carry. Every lyric is a map—one that leads back to where everything went to shit. Even when I’m not the one who wrote the words, I find myself in them by the end.

This band… it's all I’ve ever known. My entire life orbits around moments like this—right before we play. Every show, every rehearsal, this is where I exist.

They look to me like a savior, counting on me to lead them to their salvation.

But when the hell did I sign up to save anyone?

When did the spotlight turn into a trap? The music a cry for help I can't take back?

I’m the lead singer. The one who carries the songs we all write. Night after night, tour after tour. But I’m not allowed to enjoy the fame—the fleeting, glittering high that comes with being wanted. I’m chained to the image. The serious one. The stoic leader. No room for cracks. No room to breathe.

My bandmates get to live. Make mistakes. Be forgiven.

Not me.

I’m held to a different standard. Always the one expected to keep it together. I’m not even sure the person they think I am still exists.

I never imagined chasing my dream would lock me into a cage I can’t escape from. Not without disappointing hundreds of thousands of fans—and the brothers I built this band with.

The resentment? I don’t want to feel it toward them. They’re my family.

But I’d be lying if I said I don’t.

Every time I see themliving, and I’m justsurviving…

I’m pouring my soul into every lyric, praying someone hears me. Praying someone sets me free.

A loud crash yanks me from my thoughts. I spin on the soles of my boots to see Alix stumbling onto the stage, trying to catch a cymbal before it rolls off the edge.

“Where the hell have you been? You’re an hour and a half late, dude,” I snap, stepping away from the mic and pointing at him.

“Back off. I don’t need this shit today, Koa,” Alix bites back, scowl carved deep into his jaw.

“You never take anything seriously anymore. It’s like you don’t even want to be here. Likewe’rea burden to you. Your fans? Just another weight on your back.”