Kingdom of the Nine: The Bridge (IV)

Chapter 4

———Dylan———
I've been laying in my bed for hours, unable to convince myself to get up. The idea of moving, even an inch, feels like hell. My body's sore, my mind exhausted, but my thoughts are on a constant loop. I wouldn't even be considering getting up if it weren't for Keegan. I could still feel his disappointment hanging in the air after I bailed on him about going to see Rust Bucket tonight.

He was counting on me. And I let him down.

The show starts in about thirty minutes. If I get up now, maybe I can still make it before they get too far in? He's been talking about this band for weeks, hyping it up like they're some kind of secret treasure. I can't help but feel like a jerk for ditching him, especially now with the weird vibe between us lately. We used to be able to do anything together, no questions asked. But recently... it feels like we're drifting.

I take a deep breath and finally swing my legs over the side of the bed, the cold air from the window sending a chill through me.

I stand and shuffle my way into the bathroom. The mirror's fogged up from the shower I never took earlier, and as I wipe it clear, I barely recognize the guy staring back at me. Dark bags under my eyes. My hair's messier than usual, sticking up in all the wrong places. But I hardly care. I've been avoiding myself, maybe even running from it all.

I grab the brush and start combing through the knots in my hair, trying to focus on anything other than the headache that's starting to creep back in. The pain comes suddenly, sharper than before. My vision flickers, and I freeze as a strange image flashes in my mind: I'm standing in a warehouse, staring down at a black mask. It's dark, and I feel this rush of anger and confusion—but it's not mine. The feeling isn't mine.

The vision disappears as quickly as it came, leaving me gripping my temples in agony. Blood drips from my nose into the sink, and I stumble back, barely catching myself on the counter.

"Fuck!" I mutter under my breath, watching as the blood trickles down. It's the third time this week, and I still don't know what's happening.

I wipe my nose and stand there for a moment, catching my breath, trying to clear the dizziness in my head. I know I should probably stay home, try to rest, but I can't shake the feeling that I need to get out. For Keegan.

I throw on a hoodie, not bothering with anything else. I don't want to waste more time, not now. I step out of the bathroom, past the quiet house, and head straight for the door. The cool, rainy air hits me as soon as I step outside, a welcome relief from the heat that's been building in my head.

I breathe in deeply, letting the rain droplets hit my face, cooling me down. The headache still pulses in the back of my skull, but it's bearable for now. As I walk down the street, my shoes slapping against the wet pavement, I wonder if I'm really doing the right thing.

I'm not sure why I'm heading to the concert anymore. Part of me just wants to get away from the pressure, from the stuff I keep feeling in my head. But another part of me knows I can't keep pushing Keegan away. Not like this.

The night air feels heavier the further I walk, like it's holding something back, like there's something about to happen that I'm supposed to be ready for. The sensation is gnawing at me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. But I push it aside. I need to stop second-guessing myself.

I get to the corner of the street, the concert venue just ahead, and take a moment to pull out my phone. The thought of sending Keegan a quick text but as I press the on button, nothing happens.

"Dead, great." I mutter to myself.

Well Keegan shouldn't be hard to find, how many all black goth boys are going to... right.