Most bands aren't created at the hair salon, but we're not 'most bands', so I guess it makes sense.
They call me Harvard, for reasons I still don't completely understand. I guess I was somewhat damned to be a musician with a name like that; not that it bothers me, I'm actually quite good at my job.
I'll tell you, none of us expected to get to the top of the charts. In fact, our humility about our skills stretches so far that you could say we actually think ourselves to be quite bad, which, according to our many critics, is a huge white lie.
I guess I should tell you what this is. Hello, welcome to my story, where I tell you about how my band was born. This is my The Amazing Book is Not on Fire to Dan Howell and Phil Lester, my I Am Malala to Malala Yousafzai. This is the story of my life. (If you 1D fangirls tell me you didn't just hum Story of My Life then you sit on a throne of lies.)
Well, the story of Double Dare, I guess.
But before you turn the page, listen when I say this: you are about to enter the mind of an emo, a fangirl, a literature lover, and a music fanatic.
Don't say I didn't warn you...
****This is a work of fiction. The band Double Dare does not exist, and all characters are made-up. Just a heads up.
Book 1 of Ruthless Series
A Dark Mafia Romance...
Serena Alfero
In world of Mafia you don't live, You survive. I survived but I wish I didn't.
I knew it. The moment my eyes met his, I fucking knew he, The most
feared Mafia Boss, wasn't in our territory as ally. He was here for blood.
Blood of My Boss ,aka, My Uncle. The one family member I have. He is the
one who made me into the person I am now. I won't let him touch a
single hair of my family. The way his eyes bore into my soul makes me
think that he knows. He knows the things I buried deep down. My past. It
is blur which I am still trying to figure out. He is the definition of danger.
A type of danger you won't ever imagine. Like a beautiful flower which
has smell only to poison and kill people...
Nixon Casanova
Call me a monster for killing my dad and my brother. Call me a idiot for
never hiding like a coward which my dad was. Call me a pervert for not
being able to take my eyes off my enemy's niece. Call me devil for my
plan to paint the whole city with blood. She knew. She knew that I was
the Satan in disguise. Ready to skin people alive. Drink their blood and
throw their corpse to my dogs. The way her mind calculated behind that
pretty face had me thinking twice. Her silence and the soulless eyes
staring into mine. Her eyes stared at me as if I was a mathematical
problem while I stared her as she was a puzzle with a missing piece. The
game has just begun, Isn't it? Let's break the fucking hell...