What should have been 8

Chapter Fourteen

A knock at the door brought me out of my thoughts and I slipped my phone into my pocket, running to the door. I swung it open with a huge smile, looking at Isidor who had changed clothes. He wore a lip piercing with a chain that went to his ear, a vest that framed his thin body and small waist, a long black coat that hung on his shoulders. He had shoes that gave him a couple extra inches in height. I was still taller than him but it made me smile to see that he was trying.

"Ready to go?" He asked, his eyes looking me up and down, "You look good."

"Thanks," I said looking into his eyes, captivated by their beauty. "You don't look too bad yourself."

He smirked, "It's all for you."

I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. "There's a special band I want to see with you tonight that's playing in a bar near us." I smiled at him.

"Oh really? What bar?"

"It's a surprise~" I winked, grabbing his hand and my keys. I ran out to my motorcycle and looked at his very concerned expression.

"I don't know, I've never ridden on one before."

"Its fine, just hold on~"

Isidors expression was a mix of excitement and fear as he climbed on the back of the motorcycle. I got on and straddled the bike, revving the engine before pulling out of the driveway. His hands were wrapped tightly around my waist and he hugged my body tightly. "Scared?" I teased.

"W-what!? N-no!" He unwrapped his arms in embarrassment. As soon as he did I sped up, making him jump and grab me again, his face barely into my back and the motorcycle. I looked back at him with a teasing smile. A blush covered his face, "Ass whole."

I pulled up to a small alley in the middle of downtown chicago. "Were here~"

He looked up, finally letting go of my waist. "Where is it?"

"Come on, love." I half bowed, lending my hand to him. Shocked and happily he took it as I led him down the alleyway. At the very end of the alley there was a wood door. I knocked three times and whispered something in the door. "Soak the heat in brine, shoot it with salt and lime." The door opened revealing a large man dressed in a suit with a gun. "Good afternoon." I smiled.

He nodded and shut the door behind us, locking it. Inside the club the sound of music drinking and people laughing and talking rang all around. The smell of smoke and drugs was strong in the air. I knew this place, I knew the owner, and he knew me.

"What kind of place is this?" Isidors voice was a mix of excitement and fear.

"It's a club were a lot of my favorite bands play, tonight one called Church of Misery is playing~"

"Are they that one band who makes all their songs after serial killers?"

"The very one," I smirked, leading him through the crowded dance floor. The strobe lights painted the room in a chaotic symphony of colors, and the sound of leather boots stomping to the beat was a comforting rhythm.

We found a spot near the stage, the vibrations of the bass resonating in my chest. I turned to Isidors, his eyes wide as he took in the scene around us. The air was electric with energy, and the anticipation of the band's performance was thick. "You're going to love it," I assured him, leaning in to be heard over the crowd.

The lights dimmed, and the opening chords of Church of Misery's latest song filled the air. The crowd roared, and I felt Isidors grip tighten on my hand. "You've never been to a place like this, have you?" I shouted with a grin.

He shook his head, his eyes scanning the room nervously. "No, but I'm with you," he said, his voice barely audible over the music.

I leaned in closer, whispering in his ear, "You're safe with me."

Isidor modded, his eyes locking with mine. The intensity of the music matched the racing of our hearts. The band took the stage, their heavy riffs and dark lyrics setting the mood for the night. The crowd surged forward, a sea of bodies moving as one to the music.

I pulled Isidors closer, our bodies pressed together in the crush of people. His eyes searched mine, looking for reassurance. I kissed him hard, the taste of fear and excitement mingling on his lips. The crowd swallowed us up, our movements lost in the chaos.

As the night went on, the alcohol flowed freely, and the pills I had taken earlier were starting to wear off. The pain in my head was returning, but the adrenaline from the music and the crowd kept it at bay. Isidors and I danced together, our bodies moving in sync with the heavy beats. I popped three drugs into my mouth, washing them down with a shot of whiskey. I got a disapproving look from Isidor, but he didn't say anything.

The lead singer of Church of Misery announced their last song, and the crowd went wild. The lights flashed erratically, painting Isidors in a frenetic pattern of light and shadow. His eyes were wide, but he was smiling, truly enjoying himself. The bassist's notes vibrated through the floorboards, resonating up my legs and into my core. I felt alive, more alive than I had in years.

As the song ended, the crowd dispersed, leaving us in a sticky, sweaty mess. Isidors leaned into me, his breath hot against my neck. "Let's get out of here," he said, his voice strained from the noise.

I nodded, taking his hand and leading him through the now dispersing crowd. The cool air outside hit us like a slap in the face, a stark contrast to the heat and energy of the club. We stumbled down the alley, our laughter echoing off the wet brick walls.

"That was... intense," Isidors said, his voice still shaking from the bass.

"You liked it," I said, smiling down at him.

He smiled back, rolling his eyes, "It was... something."

I chuckled, "I've missed this side of you."

"Missed what?"

"You enjoying something."

Isidors smirked, "I enjoy a lot of things, Gerald."

"Oh really? Name one."

"You." He leaned in and kissed me again, his hand cupping my cheek. The simplicity of his words hit me like a ton of bricks, breaking through the armor I had built around my heart. I knew he meant it, and for a moment, the pain in my head subsided.