by K. A. Linde
She could hear music through the door and was surprised there hadn’t already been a noise complaint. She tentatively knocked, unsure of what she would find inside.
Neal had always hated the fact that she loved to party. He had his tight-knit group of friends that he liked to go out with, but he’d claimed it was nothing like her hanging out with Bryna and Stacia. She had believed him until the moment a chick opened the door in a skimpy skirt and bralette top. She had electric-blue hair shaved on one side and thick dark eyeliner.
The girl gave Trihn a once-over and then laughed. “Wrong house,” she said before starting to slam the door in Trihn’s face.
Trihn’s hand shot out. “I’m here to see Neal.”
“Really?” she asked. She seemed a little drunk or high or something. Her eyes were glazed, and she looked out of it.
“Yeah. So, if you’ll just excuse me.” Trihn walked past the girl without another word.
The house was a wreck. Everywhere, people were holding red Solo cups brimming with beer, and the smell of pot clogged her lungs the instant she stepped inside. She coughed twice and pressed through the throng of people.
“How do you know Neal? You’re a little out of place,” the girl said, still behind Trihn.
“It really doesn’t matter. I just need to see Neal, and then I have somewhere else to be.”
“He’s probably in the kitchen with the keg.”
Trihn startled. “Keg?”
Maybe she was at the wrong house. Neal had never been to a kegger in his life that she hadn’t forced him to attend. There was no way that he had a keg in his house.
Trihn pushed her way into the kitchen, and there he was, exactly as she remembered him…except not.
There was definitely a keg in his kitchen. He had a red Solo cup in his hand, and beer pong was set up on a table. She blinked to try to clear the image, but it didn’t go away.
Neal finally noticed her standing there, and a slow smile spread on his face. He held his arms wide and laughed. “Well, look who we have here.”
“I just came for my sketchbook. Didn’t realize this would be a bad time,” she said softly. She was having a hard time mixing the Neal she had known with this reality before her.
“It’s not a bad time. This is a perfect time. Come have a drink, Trihn. This is right up your alley,” Neal teased, gesturing to the keg.
“You’re Trihn?” the girl with blue hair asked from behind her.
Oh, great. My reputation preceded me. “Neal, the sketchbook?”
“Too good for our party?” Neal asked.
He strolled over to her, and she knew that walk. He was wasted. And when Neal got drunk, he either got arrogant or mean. It was worse when he was both. Tonight was not her lucky night.
“You broke up with me. I just want to get my stuff and get out of your life. So, can we hurry this up?” she asked.
She tried to keep her voice even and level, but by the way he was looking at her, she knew that she had failed.
“Is that what you really want?”
Neal ran his knuckles down her cheek, and she flinched away from him.
“Stop. Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
He had ended things. He had stomped on her heart. He was the one who was supposed to be cold and distant. She didn’t want him to touch her…yet her heart betrayed her. His touch was comforting and easy. She had stayed with him all that time because everything about him was familiar. But she couldn’t do this tug-of-war.
“What do you think? That I want you back?” he asked, taking a hit to his ego with her rejection.
She knew it tipped him over the edge from arrogant into mean.
“Kicking you to the curb was the best day of my life.”
“Fine,” she said. She would not cry. Her heart was pitter-pattering around in her chest, and she had to breathe in and out through her mouth to control it. But she would not leak one tear. “Can I have my fucking sketchbook now?”
“Yeah, let’s get it.”
The girl grabbed his arm as he passed and said something into his ear.
“Just stay here, Blu,” Neal said, brushing her off.
Blu’s eyes found Trihn, and she knew somehow that they were together. It pinched her insides that he had moved on this quickly. And it piqued the deep, dark curiosity within her that wanted to know if Blu had been at his house the day of their breakup, if she was the reason this had all come crashing down.
Trihn passed Blu and couldn’t help looking her over, wondering what Blu had that she didn’t. When their eyes locked, it was like looking into a mirror, and Trihn realized that this girl was probably wondering the same thing. It made Trihn even sadder about the situation.
She hurried back through the house and to Neal’s bedroom. He opened the door, and a couple was making out on his bed.
“Get the fuck out,” he said.
The two looked at them in a haze of lust before realizing who it was, and then they disappeared. Neal let her enter first. He closed the door behind her, drowning out some of the music. Trihn tried not to look around. There were too many memories here, and she didn’t want to spiral out of control.
Neal entered his closet and came back out a second later with the sketchbook in his hand. He extended it to her, but when she reached for it, he yanked it back really quick.
“Real funny,” she said, holding her hand out.
“What are you going to give me for it?”
“What do you mean?” she asked warily. “It’s my notebook. I just want it back.”
“Come on, Trihn. You and I both know that you’re just using this as an excuse to get back with me.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Um…no. It’s really not. As far as I’m concerned, you cheated on me and then kicked me to the curb. I thought you made your point pretty clear.” When he didn’t deny it, she rolled her eyes and felt her heart harden. “So, that’s how it was then? Blu, I’m assuming?”
Neal shrugged, nonchalant, and changed the subject. “What do you need another sketchbook for? You have a million at your house. You only need this to try to get with me. Well, I’m here. Have your way with me,” he said.
He laughed and cocked his head to the side, as if in invitation. But she saw through his bravado. He was drunk and rambling. Some thought you could hear the truth when people were intoxicated, but she sure hoped this wasn’t the truth out of his mouth.
“I need that notebook because it has a dress in it I’m designing for school. That’s it. No ulterior motive.”
“I know you must miss me.”
Trihn breathed out heavily. “You know, I really don’t.”
Neal’s nostrils flared at her dismissal. “You’re probably dying for sex.”
“Yeah, I am,” she admitted.
He smirked and leaned toward her.
She grabbed the notebook from him. “But just not from you.”
Trihn yanked open the door to his room and dashed down the hall. She didn’t care that Neal was drunk and high. The way he’d acted was completely uncalled for. Had he always been like this, and I’d just ignored it?
She pushed her way through the crowd in the living room and out the door. Once she was back out in the clean air, she took shuddering deep breaths.
Neal might have broken up with her, but he had just given her the keys to move on. She had thought that seeing him would cause all the old emotions to flood back in her. She’d worried that she really would miss him since he had been out of her life.
But she didn’t.
It had just reinforced the fact that she was better off without him. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
And she knew exactly what she needed to do.
“Hello?” Damon said uneasily into the phone.
“Hey. This is Trihn.”
“Yeah, I know. What’s up? Everything okay?”
“Are you working tonight?” she asked.
“Nah. Tonight is my day off. Why?”
“Can we meet up somewhere?” She took a deep breath and waited for his response. She knew that he had said he would change her mind, but she hoped she hadn’t ruined it by ignoring him the past couple of weeks.
“Uh, yeah.” She could hear him shuffling around in the background. “Did you want to meet at Posse?”
“Not really. Just somewhere we can talk.”
“The radio station on campus?” he suggested. “I still have a key, and no one should be there right now.”
She was glad he hadn’t suggested his place. She didn’t trust herself not to jump him if a bed were nearby, and she wanted to get everything out in the open before going down that route again. She owed him that much.
“Sure. Sounds good. Meet you there in twenty. Is that good with you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that works.”
“Cool.”
“And, Trihn?” he said before she could say anything else. “It’s really great to hear from you—unexpected but still really good.”
She smiled bright and nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m glad. See you in a few.”
Trihn hung up and started her drive back toward campus. Her sketchbook was sitting pretty in the passenger seat, reminding her that she was making the right decision. Her heart was torn—not on Damon. She liked Damon even though she had been ignoring that. It was just torn over whether getting into a relationship would be a good idea. Anything that had the potential to trample her heart made her wary.
As Trihn neared the campus radio station, a message came in from Bryna.
Where are you?
“Shit,” she murmured. She pulled into the radio station parking lot and replied.
Have to cancel. Got into it with Neal, and now, I’m meeting Damon. Sorry!
Yay! Go off and have a scandalously sexy Brit bang fest, and tell me all the juicy details later!
Trihn laughed and shook her head. Leave it to Bryna.
Only a minute after she’d arrived, his car parked next to hers. They both stepped out and he smiled when he saw her.
“Hey.” He walked around her car and pulled her into an embrace.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hey yourself.”
When he released her, he nodded his head toward the door, and they walked to the building together. He used his phone to illuminate the door and then produced a well-worn key from his pocket. The lock turned easily. Twisting the door handle, Damon let her enter the dark space first.
“Wow. It’s a little creepy in here,” she whispered.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said. “Give me a minute.” He fiddled with a box and then flipped on a series of switches. The hallway lit up before them. “Here we go. This way.”
Trihn followed him into the studio. It was a relatively small room, all things considered. A bunch of computer monitors sat before a keyboard and a pretty impressive-looking soundboard. A speaker hung suspended from the ceiling. A few seats for interviews with musicians were placed in front of the soundboard. Trihn had heard local artists come on campus radio to try to gain exposure with the college crowd.
Damon sank into the seat behind the soundboard and habitually fiddled with a few of the controls.
Trihn walked around to his side. She leaned against the desk. “I’m sorry,” she finally said.
His eyes shot to her. “For what?”
“I haven’t been myself the last couple of weeks, and that was the girl you got to know. My breakup really messed me up. Then, you had to see me when I found out about my sister’s wedding.” Trihn choked up when she mentioned the wedding. That part still burned with a fiery passion. “Her fiancé is an asshole, and I was shocked when I found out the other night. Basically, you and I have gotten off to the wrong start.”
“I kind of liked our start.”
She let loose a breath. “You liked the sex, but you wanted more.”
“Look, I’m sorry, too. I wanted more. I want more with you, but that doesn’t mean I have to force you into it.”
“I don’t feel forced. I just feel like I have major trust issues. And it’s hard, letting in someone new.”
He nodded in understanding, but she knew he could never really understand.
She moved forward and sat down in his lap. Her hands snaked up around his neck. “But I’ll try for you.”
His arms circled her waist, and he smiled the most brilliant smile. “I like the sound of that,” he said before kissing her.
Wear white. Something you don’t mind getting ruined.
TRIHN RAISED HER EYEBROWS at the text she had just received from Damon.
All white and something I could get ruined. Is he planning to tear it off of me? Now, that would be fun.
They’d spent a couple of hours in the radio station, talking. Damon had picked up a few instruments around the location and played for her. It had been a nice, chill evening, something she hadn’t realized that she needed.
Now, they were going to go on their first official date, and after that bizarre request, she really had no clue what to expect.
An hour later, Damon knocked on the door, dressed in jeans and a plain white T-shirt. He had a bouquet of tulips in his hand. “For you.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking them from him. She found the vase she had put the last bouquet in and placed the flowers inside.
He came up behind her and kissed her shoulder. Then, he slipped something in her hand.
“What’s this?” she asked. She turned to face him and opened her palm to reveal a Hershey’s Kiss. She laughed. She could get used to this.
She opened the wrapper and popped the chocolate into her mouth. It melted almost instantly, and Damon leaned forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. The taste of the chocolate lingered between them.
“Oh, I like the kiss,” he said.
“Which one?”
“Both.”
He kissed her again and then had to drag himself back. “Come on. This isn’t an event you’ll want to be late to.”
“Where are we going?” Trihn asked, following him out of her apartment.
They hurried out of the building and into Damon’s car before he answered, “So, we’re going to see this DJ.”
“Cool. Like you?”
“Sort of.” He revved the engine and started to drive them out of the city. “We started doing shows around the same time, but now, he’s kind of a big deal. He got a record deal, and his shows are pretty packed.”
“All for a DJ?” she asked curiously.
“Well, yeah. I mean, Calvin Harris is recording with huge celebrities, and Skrillex has his own gig. They’re huge in the music industry. If you make it, you make it. And Poet is on his way.”
“Poet?” Trihn asked. She tried to hold back her laugh. “He just goes by Poet?”
“Yeah. His last name is Poe, and the label thought he’d be more recognizable with a stage name.” Damon shrugged. “Poet was his nickname in high school because he was always scribbling lyrics into his notebook.”
“Did you go to school with this Poe…Poet guy?”
“No, but I have a friend who did.”
“You seem to know a lot of people.”
“That’s the industry,” he said with a smile.
“What’s his real name?”
Damon glanced at her. “James Poe. Not exactly the sexy stage name they were looking for.”
“And what about Damon Stone? Would they make you change that?” she asked curiously.
“I wouldn’t let bigwig asshole music producers who were paying me thousands of dollars to do what I loved change anything.” He looked over at her with a smirk on his face.
“Well, for the record, I think Damon Stone stays. You don’t want them to call you something like Stoned or Stoner.”
“I heard that enough in high school,” he said. He brushed a hand back through his unruly dark hair, and the strands fell back into place almost instantly. “And what about you?”
“Me?”
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“You’re going to be in that fashion show. What’s your line going to be called?”
Trihn chewed on her bottom lip. “You know…I never thought about that. Maybe just Trihnity.”
“That’s not you. Go with just Trihn.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. Then, when I’m on the red carpet, people can ask me who I’m wearing, and I can say Trihn.”
She burst out laughing. “You are insanely way ahead of yourself…but I like it.”
His eyes lit up at her enthusiasm. “Good. I like it, too.”
A few minutes later, Damon pulled into a parking lot. He had a tag that let them pass the crazy line of cars waiting to get into a general admission section. But even their passes kept them pretty far from the venue. She was glad that she had chosen to wear boots tonight with her white jeans and shirt. The jeans weren’t exactly something she wanted to ruin, but he’d said white, and she couldn’t help herself when it came to dressing fashionable for an event, especially a first date.
Damon handed over two passes to a guy, and he nodded his head for them to take the line to the right. Someone checked her small purse and gave them each a handful of glow sticks, and then they were through.
They entered what more or less looked like a closed-in mosh pit. There was a stage at the far end of the football field–sized area. Damon took her hand and seamlessly threaded his way through the crowd, getting as close to the stage as they could get.
In confusion, Trihn held out her glow sticks to Damon.
“You’re going to need those,” he said.
After breaking them in half, she pushed the ends together and created a necklace as well as a few bracelets. Damon had a long chain up his arm. The sky darkened, and soon, the entire audience was glowing. Black lights flickered to life around them, illuminating their white clothing, and then the music started.
“Welcome to Poet’s Paint War. Rock on.”
The music grew with intensity as DJ Poet got into the groove. The crowd immediately started dancing all around Trihn, but she was focused on one word that had come out of Poet’s mouth.
“Paint?” Trihn asked.
Then, she felt it. A giant glob of neon green paint landed in the middle of her white T-shirt. Damon laughed at her reaction just as more paint rained down on them.