Volume X: The Industry of Chemical Artistry - or - The Age of Rockism

9. Broken Ego

Night.

Show time. The boys are front-center setting up. I’m off to the side, scanning the crowd warily. I had camera in hand, I’d have to work carefully to make it work out. Jekt kept shooting me sideways glances. I tried to hide my face from the group. I don’t know, but there was a silly expression planted on there, a very young, innocent, lost kind of face.

After the initial uncertain silence, we both had gotten up and just sat close. There was nothing more than that involved. Don’t let your imagination run away with you. It was just that. I don’t know why, but he was scared for me. I was scared for me too. I knew the truth. Riley wasn’t the one at fault, she wasn’t the one that was fucking everything up. It was me. I was the mistake. And the boys would cure me of this or throw me to the dogs. Either which way, that’s just how it was. We’d sat awhile in silence and I thought about this. I think I’ll stay with Jekt. Things were the most stable there.

Back to now, the bar, they’re counting down to the start. They’re sound checking. Brie is hanging out on the other side of the room. I can see Riley over there with her. I give up. What do I care what happens? I look around, spotting my brother sneak through the door. Fuck. I blink a few times to be sure, to try and shake it. No. It’s him.

Everywhere I look, I see Dacien’s haunting stare following me. Every time I blink or stare or move, it’s there, following me. I can’t get a steady sight on her, not good enough to go searching for her physical self. But I can feel her searching me out, feeling my boundaries. She’s not here for me. That would defeat the purpose. I looked at the guys setting up on stage. I looked across the room at my baby sister. At Brie. Fuck. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

When asked to choose which one of your loved ones dies what do you do? I’d think - ignore them. Don’t appear too attached. But I’m sure she’d think that way too. How do you outsmart someone like Dacien Ransom? You can’t. All that you can do is hope and pray that she’s in a good mood. Because if she is…let’s just say that you won’t be seeing a bullet to the head anytime soon. And Dacien’s seldom in a good mood.

I make my way through the crowd, cutting here and there. There’s a circle of street demons, kids from the street gangs. There are always demons here, but they aren’t mingling. They’re waiting for something.

I grab Roger from where he’s standing in the doorway. He’s not in uniform, though most of them know he’s a cop. Most of us know each other. That’s just how it goes. I pull him off into the most remote corner I can find, but the place is filling up fast.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“Dacien Ransom...I’ve pissed her off.”

“And what the hell would you like me to do about it?”

“Get Riley out of her, Brie too if you can. I’ll talk to the boys.”

Roger shook his head. “She’s not here for any of them.”

“How do you know?”

And she crept out of the shadows behind him. As if she’d been there the whole time. My eyes were wide.

“Because I told him,” she replied. She was standing, one hand on my brother’s shoulder, leaning on him almost. She narrowed her eyes. “I told you that we’d be speaking sometime soon. This is soon.”

“What do you want?”

She looked at the ceiling, the gears in her head working. “Honestly? To watch you die. But I can’t do that. I did make promises, and my word is gold.”