Temptation and Attraction

1: Wyatt

"We're on in 5, man!" Jay yells from outside my dressing room.

I know I only have so long before l'm due on stage, but I can't peel myself away from my reflection. Something is missing. Something isn't right.

I hear Jay down the hall yelling at someone else, so with some sudden urgency, I manage to pull myself from my studio vanity and got up to put on my jacket. The leather feels cool against my bare skin as I slip it on. I have performed at least one hundred times, and I still get nervous sweats whenever we're about to get on stage. I find that it's not too big of a problem, though. The internet seems to love when I walk on stage sweaty, wearing no shirt and only my leather jacket.

I shake off the nerves, the sweat, and the worry, and I take a large gulp of cold whiskey before meeting up with my bandmates outside.

Jay and Alex are waiting for me in the wings, and by the time I reach them, the curtains are about to open.

Alex is our band's bassist, and he is really good, too. He has a fluffy blonde mullet and almost every inch of his skin is covered in either tattoos or piercings. Jay is our drummer, and he is probably the loudest out of the three of us. He isn't as tall as Alex or 1, but he isn't short either. He has curly black hair and tan skin, and he has a full tattoo sleeve but refuses to get ink anywhere else.

"Punctual as always, Brown," Alex teases, "At least you aren't wasted this time." Jay and Alex erupt into laughter as if it was somehow funny to remind me of the many times l've gotten on stage while shitfaced. I reply with a middle finger, ignoring their antics and knowing that the second we start playing all tension will be cut loose.

Our band isn't super popular, but it is still well-known enough for there to be a roaring crowd, welcoming us from the other side of the curtains. I am used to seeing chicks up front. Of course, there is the occasional dude, too, but he is usually just a jealous boyfriend.

However, tonight there is one girl in particular who catches my attention.

She is slim and tan, and her long brown hair is weaved into french braids on top of her head. Her pink, round lips are slightly parted and her eyes briefly trail down my exposed body as I play. I can only make out the top of her outfit because of the swarm of people around her, but I can tell she is wearing a small black dress that hugged her curvaceous body. Her clear icy blue eyes are piercing among the sea of drunk eyes around her.

She looks around with a bored complexion, trying to make eye contact with anyone but me. This ignites something inside of me.

Every girl in the crowd is fighting for my attention, and she can't even be bothered to look at me. What the fuck is she doing here if she is just going to be bored? Merely taking up space.

I suddenly catch her eyes, but only for a second before she rolls them back into her head and pulls out her phone. This pisses me off even more. I want to pause the entire show, jump off the stage, get right in her face, and teach her a fucking lesson.

But why do I care so much? I can have any girl I want, so why am I so upset over the one girl I can't?

For the rest of the show I feel like her presence is an annoying distraction, and yet every time I meet those obnoxious, stubborn eyes, I feel something pleasurable heat up in my lower abdomen. I need to talk to her, and I need to wipe that nasty fucking smirk off of her face. I need to know her name, and I need to hear her say mine.

Hello my loves!!

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I started off in Eli's POV, but the majority of this story will be in Jenna's POV. It will still go back and forth, though. :)

Let me know what you think so far! 💕