Chapter 33
I decided to go to the New Year’s Eve show. By myself. I didn’t want anyone to know, but I wanted to see Luminescent Juliet, and of course Romeo. The show already started by the time I enter the club. The walk in was freezing since I’m dressed in one of my band outfits. Shorts, a tank top, combat boots, and a velvet hoodie. I lied to the bouncer at the door and told him I was playing a set tonight with the band. Luckily, he remembered me from the last time we played and didn’t even bat an eye.
Keeping my emotions in a tightly packed coil, I pull my hoodie up over my ponytail and move to the far corner of the club while Justin sings, “This is the dawning of the rest of our lives…” People jumping to the beat of Green Day’s Holiday pack the dance floor wall to wall. The tables near the floor are packed too. Near the back, tables are sporadically filled because most people push toward the stage. I pull a chair away from a table, lean it against the wall, and sit on the back with my feet on the seat.
Shrouded in the shadows, I take in the entire scene. The lights. The stage. The crowd. The pulsing music. Then I zone in on the drummer. He’s good. Not as good as me, but I can admit he’s talented. Justin belts out lyrics. I wouldn’t have thought it, but he does justice to Green Day. Wish I had a chance to play this band. Their music has a certain energy I admire as a drummer. Sam plays his bass, bounces to the beat, and yells out the heys exuberantly into the microphone.
Finally, unable to stop myself any longer, I look at Romeo. He steps toward the edge of the stage and starts the guitar solo. His back bows. The muscles of his arms clench when he lifts the guitar. His fingers fly over the stem. Dressed in designer shredded black jeans, a chrome belt, black boots, and a black collared shirt, he looks like a rock god. And sitting out here on the other side, I can see why girls fall for him. Not that I didn’t fall for him on the inside.
Want rolls through me. I’m enamored with him all over again. But now I’m just one of the unknown faces in the endless sea of the crowd.
The song ends and Justin starts spouting his blah, blah, blah. Here’s one thing I don’t miss. Romeo goes to the back of the stage and chugs down water. Justin continues his lame rhetoric while some guy I’ve never seen before comes out with a keyboard.
I sit up straighter, wondering what’s going on. Romeo comes back to his microphone. He gives Justin a look and the ass finally quits talking. The lights dim. I’m on the edge of my seat. Romeo breaks into a loud, powerful riff. Lights flash.
The crowd goes wild and I stand on the chair.
Oh hell no. This was my idea. I wanted to do this damn song. Really, really bad.
Sam steps up to the center microphone and lets out a scream that morphs into, “I can’t stand it. I know you planned it.”
The Beastie Boys’ Sabotage sounds as energetic as I knew it would. Sam belts it out in a perfect nasal twang like the original. I’m pissed it sounds so awesome. I’m also ecstatic.
But even with my love of the song, I’m soon watching Romeo playing instead of concentrating on the music. I drink in the sight of his carved profile. The harsh line of his jaw. The flop of his hair. From this distance, I imagine the flash of his dark eyes. Then I remember the low, deep rumble of his voice near my ear paired with his fingers making patterns on my skin.
I fall against the wall.
More songs come but I pay little attention. I’m lost watching the one thing I want most in this world but cannot have. My stupid, stupid heart is twisting and fracturing, but I can’t look away. I’m wilting, morphing into a wallflower with torn petals and a broken stem. I’m suffocating yet alive. Finally, they take a break and I can breathe fully without Romeo in my vision.
I slide down onto the chair.
A buzz of conversation breaks out that’s louder than the music coming from the speakers overhead. The people wandering around me don’t seem to notice the girl sitting with her heart bleeding in her hands. Bright and bubbly in their fancy party clothes, they laugh and cheer and drink. They wait for the New Year.
I wait for nothing.
They’re excited.
I’m empty.
A low light flicks over the stage with two vacant stools in the middle. A hush goes through the crowd and they press forward again.
Great. Acoustic music with Romeo singing. Just what I need to hear and see. I’m guessing the new drummer hasn’t had enough time—though I learned enough in a month and a half—to learn enough for three sets. So why not crush me some more?
Sam and Romeo come out carrying acoustic guitars. Of course, Romeo doesn’t say anything. They just sit, he taps a foot, and they break into music. I don’t pay attention to the particular song. Feeling miserable, I just stare at Romeo again. Though he glances at Sam and the audience every now and then, his gaze is mostly downward. His expression is a shield. After several songs—I can’t say how many—someone hands Romeo a banjo and takes his guitar.
Sam taps his foot on the floor and they break into a fast, folksy rhythm. The song sounds familiar, but this folk stuff is more Romeo’s thing than anyone else. Suddenly the music slows, Romeo’s face tightens, and he sings, “Well I came home like a stone.”
The words jog a musical memory—Romeo talking Mumford and Sons I think—but I’m too entrapped in the vision of him looking grieved and broken as he sings and plays. His eyes close as he sings the refrain with Sam, “I will wait. I will wait for you.”
My hands clench in my lap. Frozen, I’m back on that bench in the skate park with him kneeling in front of me telling me he will wait for me. But the world keeps moving while the sad rawness of his voice wraps around me and sinks into my chest. The audience sways to the music but I’m falling a million miles away with each passing note. Romeo’s forlorn expression etches itself into my memory as I fall farther. And yet he sings, “I will wait for you.”
The song ends and I finally land.
Sara’s words from Christmas Eve rush into me. The falling can be an emotional, chaotic whirlwind. The landing jarring and eye opening. But if two people are really in love, there’s nothing in this world that can overcome it. Even if they can’t be together, love doesn’t cease.And suddenly her words become clear because I am in love with Romeo.
The stage is dark and empty. My mind shocked glass.
Justin comes out. The crowd goes wild. They’re in front of me but they are far from me. The room is a blur. Justin’s words incomprehensible. I’m drunk on self-awareness. I teeter on the edge of the chair from the clarity of my feelings. Justin and the crowd screaming a countdown to midnight cracks into my consciousness, but I bring my knees up and curl into a ball.
The truth has been with me for a long time. In my misery, I refused to acknowledge it. Now the feeling roars through me and I can’t pretend anymore.
I’m in love with Romeo.
“Three! Two! One!” the crowd and Justin roar. The stage lights up. The crowd turns wild. A guitar wails. Drums pound. The boom of a bass joins in. High energy music. My favorite kind. But the music doesn’t marry into a song for my ears. All I can hear is…
I will wait for you.
The last twelve months of giving and giving roll through my mind. I’ve given up almost everything. A scholarship. Time. Playing the drums. And mostly Romeo.
I’ll keep giving and giving. My mother and sister are worth the giving.
But he’s waiting.
For me.
My eyes lift to him in all his rock glory while the rest of the room is a blur. There’s so much more behind the fa?ade he creates on stage. So much more than his masculine beauty. Peeling back the raw sexiness of him exposes an astounding determination, a deep honesty, boundless compassion, and a startling intellect. Between his past and the man he has become, he’s perfection.
How can I just give him up?
The song ends. The stage empties. People mingle and drink around me. The scene before me continues to be a blur. My arms tighten around my knees as I question my resolution. Question how much I can give up until I lose myself. I feel like I’m back in time watching that first performance of Luminescent Juliet and staring at the card Romeo gave me while wondering if my life needed a change.
Until love brings clarity.
My mother and sister are worth sacrifices, but so is Romeo.
And so am I.
Over the heartache of the past year, I lost sight that my life is mine, is for me too. Taking care of my family shouldn’t eradicate my chance at happiness. I can’t be there for my family if I lose myself and melt away. Six months ago, even a week ago, I wouldn’t have agreed with the perception, would have thought it selfish. But with each passing day without Romeo, I’m becoming a drained shell while my heart breaks. I’m losing myself from the misery of losing us.
Yanking my hood off, I stand and look around the huge room. Though I planned on slipping out quietly after the performance, I rush and shove through the crowd toward the empty stage. I spot Justin and Sam surrounded by girls at a table off to the right. I can’t see Romeo. Enclosed between a rail and a wall, a bouncer guards their section of tables. They raise shots and cheer inside their secluded area.
The different bouncer doesn’t recognize me and refuses to let me through.
“Justin,” I yell but the music above is loud.
Yet someone notices me. Chloe, looking sexy in that black dress, comes over to the rail. “Riley! What are you doing here?”
My hands grip the metal between us. “Where’s Romeo?”
Her expression brightens but before she can answer, Marcus is behind her. “Out back. He’s packing up then leaving.”
Without another word, I whirl toward the back door. A bartender yells but I ignore him and dash through the rooms filled with jars of olives, napkins, and maraschino cherries. Practically in a full run, I push the door open and fly outside, but the sight in the alley has me halting. Or at least trying to. Unfortunately, it’s snowing and the ground is slick. I don’t stop rather slide into the side of Romeo’s van. My head and body hit the metal with a thud before I hit the ground with a second thud.
Romeo and April’s blurry faces appear above me. My vision of the world is spinning. Not just my mind.
“Damn Riley, are you okay?” Romeo asks, reaching for my hand.
No, I’m not okay. I just saw him and April in a tight embrace. Never mind the double collision or the fact I’m lying in several inches of snow or that my head is whirling. “I think so,” I say, becoming embarrassed at bursting in on their private moment and hurt because they had a private moment.
April grabs my other hand and they pull me up. April lets go of my hand. Romeo doesn’t. He bends and slaps snow from my legs and backside with the hand not enclosing mine. “What are you doing here?”
“I…” My head is pounding for several reasons.
“I should go,” April says, stepping toward the door. Her long hair spins with the movement and catches falling flakes. “Have a safe trip, Romeo.”
My eyes search his while the sound of the door shutting echoes in the alley. The falling snow muffles the sounds of the city, and leaves me feeling like I’m encased in a snow globe that could be shaken or shattered at any moment because I can’t read anything in the dark depths of his eyes.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
He breaks our gazes, bends, and finishes brushing snow from me. “Home for a few days.”
“Oh.” My head actually, really freaking hurts but his hand wrapped around mine helps.
“Why are you here?” he asks again.
“I came to watch the band.”
“I mean out here.”
“Oh. Yeah. Um…” Shit, I sound like a goose-headed idiot. I reach up and touch my forehead. I am a goose-headed idiot.
Romeo gently pushes my hand away and brushes his fingers across my skin. “You’re not okay.”
“Are you with April now?” I blurt.
His eyes narrow as one hand lets go of mine and the other drops from my head. “You think I’d use her that way?”
“No,” I say slowly. “Of course, you wouldn’t.” Snowflakes fall between us. “I didn’t think. It was just an emotional response.”
“Emotional response?” He crosses his arms over the wool of his coat. “What’s going on, Riley?”
I concentrate on the falling snow in the spray of light above the door before my gaze meets his. “I missed the band. I came to watch. Alone. And then…and then I watched you. You sang that song about waiting. It seemed like to me.” I press my hand against my chest. His eyes watch the movement. “And—and my perception of everything started to shift. By the time you finished the song I realized something.”
“What?” he says while his eyes remain emotionless.
“That I’m in love with you.”
He continues to stare at me without even blinking. I’m not sure what I was expecting from my admission—perhaps a little excitement and a definitely a reciprocation—but he’s as cold as the snow-filled air.
“Okay, um, I should go.” Tears sting my eyes. They’re not there from the pain in my head rather my heart. I’ve been breaking, but in seconds, I’m going to shatter into a million broken pieces of despair.
His hand clamps down on my arm. “Will the profession of your love change anything?”
My gaze whips to his. “I want to be with you.”
“What about your family?”
My head pounds in confusion. Why is he being difficult? Everything seems perfectly clear to me, even with a goose egg on my forehead. “I want to be there for them and with you.”
“Can you do that?” he asks while his dark eyes drill into mine.
Slowly beyond the pound rattling in my head, I realize he’s scared I’m going to leave him again. “Yes, I can,” I say in a tone laced with conviction. Because I will. Because I want to. Because I need to. “It isn’t always going to be easy, but I want this misery we’ve been in to end. I want to be with you.”
Relief flashes in his dark eyes and his posture changes from stiff to fluid as he steps forward and cups my jaw tenderly. “Though only months, it feels like I’ve been in love with you forever.” His thumbs stroke my skin while snowflakes fall on my upturned face. His eyes burn into mine with the intensity that is Romeo. “I want to be with you forever,” he says in a broken whisper before his lips brush against mine. I sway from the power of his words and the feel of his lips. He pulls back. “I don’t think you’re okay.”
“Oh, I’m good.” I lean closer until I’m only centimeters from his lips. “Actually, other than my head, I’ve never felt better.” My lips cover his and the pounding in my head dissipates from the heat of our kiss.
***