Taylor Swift & Travis Kelce inspired romance. Can you find all the Easter eggs? |
Trace Kelton, a charismatic NFL star, is on the brink of losing it all after attempting to save an intoxicated woman that ended with him hospitalizing three men. To p...
As the show went on, Trace could see the cracks in Syler's performance. She wasn't holding her notes as long, she was letting the crowd sing more than she normally did, and she was forgetting choreography. To someone who hadn't watched the show more than once, Trace would have put money on it that no one noticed. But Trace did.
He caught himself holding his breath, waiting for her to come back to the changing room to check on her. And when that moment finally came, it was worse than he had expected.
She ran off stage, shoved the mic into the chest of a random crew member and raced past the team who was supposed to help change her outfit. For a moment, Trace thought she was headed to him until she made a harsh right turn, knelt, and let her head plunge into a stray bucket she found. He raced to her, falling to his knees at her side. Just as he held up her hair, out came a stream of vomit.
"Oh, Syler," he hummed to himself.
Every heave broke a little more of Trace's heart. And it lasted longer than her outfit change would have been.
She finally finished, gasping for air.
"Syler, stop the show. You can't go on."
She peered up at him out of the corner of her eye and said slowly, "I'm almost done."
Trace sighed, looked at one of the many onlookers and yelled, "Get her a napkin and some mouthwash! Hurry!" Turning his attention back to Syler, he wiped away some of the black eye makeup that fell over her cheeks and whispered, "You got this. You're almost done." There was nothing he could have said to get her to stop performing, so he thought it'd be better to be her support.
"Thanks, Trace."
She got up, washed out her mouth, and ran to the costume-changing crew. Before he knew it, she was back on stage, completing the last leg of the show. And as his eyes scanned the crowd, deciding if they were having a good time, his eyes fell on someone all too familiar. His greasy hair that kinked in inky, soft waves. And his dark gaze that latched onto Syler with a knowing mystery. Out of his thin lips came the words to the song Syler was singing in a raspy voice he could perfectly imagine in his mind. Because he was the lead singer of his favorite band. The man who blackmailed Syler and wounded her.
Trace's body flared with anger as hot as the sun. This was a feeling he knew all too well. One that was untamable. Unstoppable. And down-right aggressive when it came to wanting justice.
He grabbed the nearest person by the arm and said through gritted teeth. "Bring me Madds Hule. Now."
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Did you find any Easter eggs?
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While you wait for the next chapter, please check out my Rapunzel-inspired dark fantasy romance, "Body of Chaos"!
