Their Secrets

Seven | His interests

Song: Rendezvous - Kronic (Tom Budin Remix) [Deep House] 


"HEY THERE, BEAUTIFUL," he said. I froze my hand in the air while getting a book from my locker.

That voice will forever be engraved in my head. 

I sighed. "What do you want, Jorel?"

"I wanna know something about you."

I squinted my eyes and glanced at him. "What?"

"Do you know a lot about Dax3O1?" he asked me. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"Why the hell do you want to know that?" I say.

"Every fan girl must know her idol pretty well," he stated.

Turning to him completely, I crossed my arms over my chest, then cocked my head sideways. I had to close my eyes at moments because I felt his stare starting to melt my insides.

"What are you implying?" I ask.

"What I'm implying is that Dax is throwing a contested party this Sat., I figured you'd want-"

"Where!?" I cut him off.

His smile grew wider into a smirk.

"I'll give you a flyer if you'd like," he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rolled-up page, handing it in my direction. I was about to take it when he made a quick move at his wrist. "For a price..."

Crap.

I pouted at this. The fact that he could blackmail me with something had me desperate for whatever he asked. I was up to that point, yes. Anything to keep my secret hidden. With my left hand under my elbow, I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration with my right. "What is it?"

He raised an eyebrow when I saw Courtney and her crew behind, looking at me dead in the eye. If looks could kill, my dad would be looking down at my gravestone right now. But I didn't care. It wasn't me who asked to speak with this child.

"Take me to your house," he said blandly.

I halted on the spot, fixing my glasses. "What? N-Now?"

"I mean, I know you're not going to meet with Whitney at the library because you turned in your assignment last week, and he will never turn in homework late. I saw that Ty left early for her band practice too, so you ain't got swat, woman. Take me," he ordered.

Courtney walked off with a grunt as her crew left disgusted glares. When she was out of hearing range, Jorel leaned over close to my ear and added with a whisper, "Plus, I'd like to see how my favorite DJ lives."

His soft voice immediately made my cheeks burn, especially the way he looked at me after. I hid a gulp, then looked away from him with an eye roll.

"Fine," I said.

He smiled. "You're into me."

"No, I'm not!" I whisper-snapped.

He laid his head back as he still kept eye contact with me. "Right. Let's go, Songbird."

'Songbird?' Very creative, Mr. King.

~~~

"Well. This is it," I said.

Jorel walked in and looked at the place, taking in the house's details with nodding now and then.

"It's pretty nice. Did your dad at least help unpack?"

"No. He's... too far at the moment," I said dryly. Walking to the kitchen, I pulled out the jug of fruit juice from the fridge. "Want some?" I offered.

He turned, and his green eyes landed on me. "Sure."

"Ice? No ice?"

"Yes, please," he replied.

We stayed in silence for a couple of minutes before his phone rang. He took a deep breath, then hesitantly answered the call, looking like he was about to jump off a cliff. He held the phone to his ear but did not say anything. The air then felt tight, filled with tension that was suddenly formed.

"Do you have it?" I heard the voice say from his phone. It sounded somewhat hoarse and muffled rather than clear and mellow.

Jorel answered about three seconds later. "Almost. Why do you want it?"

"You know why. I gave you a limit. Tik-tok..." And the call ended.

"Who was that?" I asked.

He didn't look at me, but he took another sip of his punch. Finally, he looked at me and smiled. "No one important. So, where does the famous FalloutCylene make her music?"

I chuckled. "You want to see the studio?"

His face sparkled. "You have a studio? Then what the hell are we doing here? Let's go! Move it!"

~~~

We let the music replace conversation as I played my latest song. Jorel calmly listened and moved to the beat of every bass kick. When he leaned in closer, his scent was dragged along him. The smell was nice. I wished I could make this scent into a perfume for me to spray whenever-

WHAT AM I THINKING?

"What did you name it?" Jorel dragged me out of my wildest thoughts.

"Uh, I was thinking of naming it 'Glass Tears.' I have part of the lyrics down already," I said.

"Can I see them?" he asks.

"They're not finished yet."

"I don't care."

He looked at what I had written – or better yet, what Ty had made – and focused deeply on what he could improve on it, but he sat back and gave me a sheepish smile.

"It's awesome. The beginning's deep. I like it," he mused.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, thinking about whether I should tell him. I gave up my fight. "Would you believe me if I told you who wrote the beginning?"

He looked up at me with eyebrows furrowed, awaiting my response.

"Mercedes Trinity Yorkeshire," I said finally.

I wanted to bark out laughing when I saw his jaw drop for one second, then close back and look down at the lyrics.

"That's a lie," he said.

"Nope. Ty made it two weeks ago. I know because I was surprised at how she made it on the spot."

His eyes flew wide. "On the sp-!" He put his hands in the air, got up, and headed for the door, saying, "Bye. I'll have enough of your lies for one night. Good-bye. Sleep tight."

I followed him, laughing. "Wait, where are you going? Come back!"