Mindgasm - A Bad Boy Romance With A Twist (Mind Games Book 3)

by Gabi Moore

  Nicky’s phone beeped.

  “Ah crap, I have to go,” she said quickly. “Nyx, will you be all right here? I have to run.”

  I smiled.

  “Sure.”

  Off she went and I returned my attention to a roll of plastic chicken wire. Somehow, by term end, I’d have to create the creepy castles and dreamscapes for Bluebeard. Out of chipboard and paint and gauze I’d have to construct a convincing new world, one that would transport the actors and audience alike.

  I could do it. Of course I could do it. I mean, it’s not like I had a choice in the matter, anyway. I had been given a million second chances in life. Now, it was about proving to aunt Lila that I was worth it.

  “Ah, the enchanted forest!”

  I gasped and turned around to see a figure standing in the doorway.

  It was him. Adam.

  My mouth hung open.

  He waltzed over and took one of the boards from my hands.

  “Oh, lookie here,” he said, “I remember when we did this show. It’s hard to imagine it now, but this was once our enchanted forest, the background for when we did Pocahontas.”

  He turned it over in his large hands, looking at the faded leaf shapes painted on in greens and blacks. I desperately wished I could think of something, anything to say.

  “I’m …I’m trying to see if any of it can be reused. For our play,” I said, and put my fingers again on the rough surface of the boards. No sooner had I said this though, had he turned away and started looking around the room with interest. He took a heavy military jacket off a rack and held it out against his body, put it carelessly back on the rail and then flipped through the other outfits hanging there.

  “You’re the set designer, right?” he said.

  I straightened and watched him opening bags and looking around disinterestedly.

  “Yup. Today I’m starting with the main bed chamber, since that’s where a lot of the play takes place.”

  I suddenly felt stupid. Of course he knew that already. He was the main actor, Bluebeard himself for heaven’s sake.

  I was beginning to get that feeling again. That feeling that in his presence, I could do nothing but watch him, nothing but wait to see what he would say next. Do next.

  “Cool,” he said. “Any ideas so far?”

  I smiled. “Well, yes, actually. I sketched out some ideas yesterday, wanna see?”

  He put on a pork pie hat and adjusted it a little on his head. It was a ridiculous thing, truly, but it looked made for him. It was just a prop, but on his head, it somehow seemed the most real and natural thing in the world.

  “Yeah, let’s have a look,” he said.

  I reached for my satchel and pulled out my notebook. I had spent a good hour last night carefully outlining some stage layouts, even going so far as to put a little watercolor here and there to make it look more professional.

  “So, this is the set from center front. This is Bluebeard’s bed – I wanted to make it a four-poster, but with a difference, you know? And here’s a space where that beginning of the third act will happen. I wanted it to all be primary colors. Since Nicky’s making everything Bluebeard wears a dark, inky blue, that leaves me with yellows – the fire – and lots of red all over the room. Mostly in this carpet, which functions a little like a stage within the stage, see?”

  I pointed out different parts of the drawing as I spoke.

  He looked on in silence and then said, “that’s it?”

  I was crushed.

  I quietly closed the notebook and stashed it back into my satchel. That’s it? That had taken me hours to brainstorm yesterday. Was it really that bad?

  “What’s …don’t you like it?”

  “No, that’s the problem, I like it,” he said and wandered over to the other corner of the room.

  “It’s a likeable room. It looks …too warm. I mean, this is a terrifying story, Nyx. Bluebeard’s going to try and kill her, and it’s slowly dawning on her. Don’t you think the room should be, I don’t know, a little darker. A little more evil?”

  My ears started to burn.

  “Well, what do you mean? It’s not a pantomime; do you want me to paint skulls on the wall or something? It is supposed to be an actual room still,” I said, surprised at how defensive I sounded.

  He was trying on more hats now.

  “Sure, that’s not what I meant though. It’s just…” He had found a mirror and was examining his reflection in the glass, tilting his head side to side to admire a glossy purple turban with a stone in the center.

  “It’s just so …Disney, you know? Kind of sanitized. Kind of boring.”

  I stared at him, a little shocked. Did he just call my set design “Disney?”

  “I’m sorry, what does that mean, Disney?” I said coldly. I couldn’t believe I had stayed up all night thinking embarrassing things about this guy. He was a total arse, clearly.

  “Oh God, I don’t know,” he said. “The kind of thing where everyone’s good, even the bad guys. It’s just predictable. Bluebeard’s loaded. He’s an aristocrat. And he’s evil. Do you really think he’d have a natty looking carpet like that in his master bedroom, in his sinister chambers?”

  I didn’t know what to say. In a way, I think he was right. Had I made something boring and predictable? I felt a little sick.

  “I guess …I guess maybe it’s not terribly original,” I said, but I felt hurt. Where was the desperately flirty guy from before? Why wasn’t he telling me awesome things about my cheekbones today? I felt a flicker of irritation with him. What was he doing in here anyway?

  He took off the turban and sauntered over to me, tall and ultra-confident, dressed from head to toe in black. He stood in front of me and looked like he was thinking.

  “Maybe you need an animal’s head on the wall,” he said at last.

  “A mounted head?”

  He considered it.

  “I think I’d like something that looks like a hunting lodge, although when you walk inside, you’re not entirely sure which animals are the prey…”

  I laughed. “You’d like that?”

  “Well yes, me. Bluebeard.”

  “I see. And what else would you like?” I said a little sarcastically.

  “The bed must resemble something like an altar. It must have the feel of the ritualistic about it.”

  He was an idiot, but what he was saying sounded interesting.

  “Bluebeard is a failed magician figure,” he continued, “so the bedroom needs to have that in it. Old candles. And I want a light shade that looks a bit like a wheel of torture. All made of metal. Know what I’m talking about?”

  “I think I know what I’m doing,” I heard myself saying.

  Instantly, those eyes were on me again. I felt it in the pit of my stomach. I felt it in the back of my throat. I couldn’t help but stare straight back at him. Look at any other person in this world and your eyes will bounce easily off theirs; it will be more comfortable to look away, to glance off and away from their gaze after a few seconds. With Adam, this seemed to be reversed. Once I caught his eye, it seemed impossible to look at anything else.

  He smiled. A naughty, mischievous smile that came on slowly. I thought he was about to say something. About to reply with something witty. But to my amazement, he leaned in close. So close I could make out the dark grainlines in the brown of his iris, so close he could …oh God, is he about to kiss me?

  My heart thumped wildly and something came over me. I leaned forward a little myself, parted my lips and tilted my head to kiss him. He cleared his throat, reached behind me for a hat and took a step back.

  “I was, uh, getting this hat,” he said awkwardly, and held up a sailor hat in his hands.

  Oh fuck. Kill me now.

  Flustered, I quickly grabbed my bag and started fussing with the straps.

  “I guess I better get going, it was nice bumping into you…” I said.

  I wanted to smack that stupid smile off his face. Had he
done that on purpose? And what the hell was I thinking? He was an arrogant prick who had nothing constructive to say about my set design and I was going to kiss him?

  “Did you …did you think…?” he asked.

  “Think what? No, of course not” I said angrily.

  He laughed. “You weren’t thinking about…?”

  “No. I mean…”

  He laughed again.

  “What are you even doing here then?” I asked. “Don’t you have some acting or something to do?” Despite myself, I felt my mouth twitching uncontrollably into a smile.

  “Baby, there’s always acting to do,” he said, and placed the sailor hat on his head, then winked at me.

  I was mortified.

  “Joke’s aside, I actually came here to see Nicky and ask her some things, you haven’t seen her around have you?”

  “No, sorry,” I said quickly.

  “I need an outfit, you see. Big party I’m going to.”

  “I can give you her number if you want--”

  “Nah, I’ll just take this,” he said, removing the sailor hat and examining it closely.

  “You really shouldn’t. Nicky and I have authorization to use what’s in this storeroom, but I don’t think you can just waltz in here and take stuff…”

  I couldn’t believe he had called my work ‘Disney’. What the hell does that even mean?

  “Oh, I can’t just waltz in here you say? Can I tango then? Maybe salsa?” he said, and started dancing around like an idiot, grinning at me and twirling his sailor hat in his hands.

  I tried to suppress a giggle.

  “I’m serious Adam, you shouldn’t just take it.”

  He winked at me again and my legs turned to jelly.

  “OK, miss prim,” he said. “Tell you what, if you don’t tell on me, I’ll let you come with me to the party tonight,” he said, and did a little twirl.

  “But I--”

  “And I think you should wear that,” he said and gestured behind me.

  I turned to look and saw a pair of jet black bird wings on a hanger.

  Chapter 5

  My flat was small and cramped, but it was mine. Sure, aunt Lila was paying for it, and in a roundabout way, her deceased husband was paying for that, and so on, but when I sat on the beanbag and peered out the window, it was easy to think for a moment that this was my own private nest.

  “And are you eating well, sweetheart?” came aunt Lila’s voice through the phone. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

  This was the schedule she had set up for us. The direct debit arrived in my account on Saturday, and on Sunday mornings she’d call and see how I was doing. ‘Taking care of yourself’ was code, you see. It meant, are you doing drugs, Nyx? Are you staying up late into the night and being irresponsible? Are you whoring around and making a nuisance of yourself? As best as I could, I answered in code as well.

  “I’m very well. Just had a nice relaxed day today. Just chilling. I might watch a movie later.”

  ‘Relaxed’ was code for I’m being obedient and proper and well-behaved and I haven’t used any of your money to party or mess around, promise. In truth I had no intention of watching a movie. I never even watched movies. But I didn’t think aunt Lila cared, really. I knew what was expected of me, she knew I knew, and she didn’t have to say much to get the message across.

  “You all right for money, sweetheart?” she asked.

  I sunk deeper into the beanbag and gazed outside, watching the tops of people’s heads bob outside as they walked past.

  “Yes, auntie, no problems with money.”

  “I hear there’s a good crop of students this year and that they’re going to go all out with this new production of yours.”

  I stood up and paced the room. A pair of black feathered wings hung menacingly off the bathroom door, waiting to fly me off somewhere I wasn’t quite sure I should go yet. It was still early in the day, but I hadn’t been able to think of anything else for hours. Adam’s party.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been to more outrageous parties in my time than even I can remember. I had lined my eyes black, untied my long brown hair and headed out into the night so often it had felt like a job to me. I had done it all. I could drink a rowdy stag night under the table, I could bet the shoes on my feet in a pool game and win, and I’d done more in the back alleys of London’s exclusive and outlandish clubs than most people could imagine.

  And yet …something about Adam’s halfhearted invitation intrigued me. He had an irritating cool-kid vibe that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Everyone else seemed to pussy foot around him, and here I was, a belly full of butterflies all today at just the thought of what I’d wear, what I’d say, whether he’d approve of me or not…

  “It’s been tricky, actually,” I said. “It’s such a strange story, and everyone seems to have really strong opinions about even the smallest details.”

  “If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a million times before: theatre people are all a little narcissist, it’s just a fact of life. But nevermind about that kind of thing. You just keep your head down. You’re talented, Nyx. If you could just apply yourself…”

  “I know, I know,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.”

  I did not need to hear another lecture about how it was time for me to man up and make something of my life already. I heard her sigh loudly on the other end of the line.

  “You should be glad you have someone to get on your case like this, sweetheart.”

  “I know. Thank you, aunt Lila. Thanks for checking in on me.” I wondered darkly whether this was code for you can hang up now, you nosy bitch.

  “I suppose I better get going then,” she said, “you’ve got a busy week ahead of you, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah.” The black wings stared at me, poised, like they were spring-loaded to take off at any moment.

  “What movie did you say you were going to watch?”

  “Uh …oh, I’m not really sure yet,” I said. “Just something nice and relaxed.”

  The line went quiet. It was probably a bad idea to head out for a big dress-up party on a weeknight. It was something the old Nyx would have done in a heartbeat, but truth be told, it didn’t sit well with the new leaf I had supposedly turned over.

  It was no big deal. A bunch of theatre nerds weren’t anything to be scared of. How could it be an irresponsible thing to do? If anyone were going to be a bad influence at such a party, it would likely be me in any case, right? I’d go, have a drink or two and be back before bedtime, no problem.

  “Ah, that’s good. A nice relaxed movie. I might have an early night myself.”

  “Lovely,” I said.

  “Yeah, all right then. Off you go. Let me know if you need a top up or anything.”

  “I will. Love you aunt Lila.”

  “Love you too, sweetheart.”

  The wings gleamed black. I checked my watch. It was still early but I could start getting ready. I peeled off my clothing, then walked over to the full-length mirror, examined my naked body for a few moments and then stepped into the shower.

  ***

  “Are you sure this is where you want to be, love? Doesn’t look like much, does it?”

  I had spent the last two hours doing my hair and makeup, and I was now in the back seat of a taxi ride I couldn’t in all honesty afford, and yes, I had to admit he had a point. I had given him the exact postcode and address as Adam had given it to me. But we had arrived and it was nothing but a sooty back alley without any street lights and a Turkish grocer on the far corner.

  I grabbed my phone and tried to call Adam.

  No answer.

  Damn.

  I paid the taxi driver and hobbled out of the back seat in my heels.

  “You gonna be all right, though?” he called out after me, rolling down his window to peer nervously at me walking into the dark alleyway.

  “If I have any trouble, I’ll just fly away!” I said and made wings
with my hands and flew them up into the night sky.

  He frowned, shook his head, then drove off.

  The night air was chill on my forearms, but I had chosen a fitted velvet dress that was surprisingly warm. For a moment, I fancied myself some villain in fantasy movie. A vampire. Or a dark witchy sort, walking down a creepy alleyway with plumes of smoke swirling at her feet.

  The truth was that I was more like Cinderella: I probably shouldn’t stay out late, since tomorrow was a super early morning meeting with Tamara, and turning into a pumpkin would make aunt Lila mad and threaten my only lifeline: the weekly direct debit.

  I’d just have a few drinks, introduce myself, twirl a little in my fancy wings and then go straight home. I’d return the wings before anyone noticed they had even been taken, and I’d still have time for a quick coffee to start my proper, well-behaved, new-leaf life in the morning. It would all be fine. Perfectly fine.

  I took a deep breath and tried to find an entrance or any sign of life.

  “Halt, who goes there?”

  I spun around to find the source of the voice. The alleyway was empty as ever.

  “Hello?”

  “Nice wings,” the unfamiliar voice said.

  I peered up and saw a shadowy figure sitting on some iron fire escape stairs. I could only make out the glowing tip of a cigarette and the puffs of thin white smoke rising up into the cold air.

  “I’m a friend of Adam’s,” I said, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

  “Oh you are? Poor girl,” he said and chuckled, then took a long drag on his cigarette, temporarily dimming the orange light in his fingers. “Just kidding, come inside then.”

  I spied a door to my left and tried to open it but couldn’t.

  “Nah, you’ll have to come up here,” he said.

  I made my way to the staircase and he watched with amusement as I tried to climb up without snapping my ankles in half. The stairwell was bigger than my wingspan.

  “Fuck me, you are right tarted up aren’t you?” he said and extended his hand to help me as I wobbled to the top platform. He snubbed out his cigarette on the brick wall and opened a narrow, glass paned door, and I turned my wings sideways and stepped inside.