Beyond the Prophecy

My entire hand throbbed in pain when Chris finally released it. The spot on my forehead between my eyebrows was beginning to hurt because of how intensely I stared at him. I can’t believe the deal he wants me to make with him. I can’t stand being anywhere near him, let alone living under the same roof. Wait, what if he makes me share a room with him? Or worse, share a bed?

But… if moving in with him spares my friends, then I can bear it. I’ve seen and felt what he can do. Even though we outnumber him, he still has all those powers. I don’t want my friends knowing anything outside of the norm. I want them to continue being oblivious, as I was just twenty-four hours ago. Knowing about it gets them involved and puts them in danger. But, they can’t know a thing and I’m going to make sure it stays that way. This is my burden to bear; I will protect them, no matter the cost.

“Fine,” I told him. “I’ll move in. But my friends are not to be harmed in any way. It’s me you want, so leave them out of this.” His smirk made me scoff before I turned and walked back to the stage.

“What took you so long?” Ava asked as soon as I got there.

“I went to talk to an old friend,” I lied, sort of.

“Yeah, I saw your ‘friend’ from here,” she said with a smile. “You leave one night to walk to your place, and the next night you come back with Sexy McHottie over there. You’ve got to tell me where you shop.”

I smiled on the outside, but cringed in disgust on the inside. I’ll admit this only to myself: If I knew absolutely nothing about him and glanced at him for the first time, then I would’ve said the same thing Ava did to me about Chris. But even the most beautiful person in the world would be repulsive if they carry nothing but ugliness inside them.

“He’s just a friend.”

“Mm-hmm, a friend who must have a thing for you.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked while adjusting the mic stand.

“You don’t recognize him? He’s the one that’s been following you. The one you said you got a weird vibe from.”

I stopped moving to think. Oh my gosh, she’s right. He did seemed familiar when I met him in the alley, but I couldn’t remember why. Now I know, and now I know how he found out so much information about me.

“I know,” I said. “We hadn’t seen each other since I left Ireland years ago. He came to the States looking for me, but he wasn’t sure if I was the right person. That’s why he hesitated to approach me. We didn’t recognize each other, not until I saw him last night. After that we decided to get reacquainted.”

Ava gasped with exaggeration. “You slept with him?”

“No!” I said with laughter. “We just went to a diner and talked, that’s all. I may be a flirt but I’m not promiscuous, you know that. And I told you before, he’s just a friend.”

“Why didn’t you recognize each other?”

I sighed. “Because, the last time I saw him, his hair was much lighter and a little longer, plus he wasn’t so toned. And the last time he saw me, my hair was still naturally red and up to my waist. Don’t forget, I cut my hair and dyed it black only two months ago.”

“Guys, the judges said to be ready,” said Evan as he picked up his electric guitar.

As the DJ’s music began to fade, my anticipation grew. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this since I was a kid, and it’s just seconds away from happening.

I walked offstage, where my guitar and guitar case was, but when I opened the case I came across a major problem; my hand was still in pain. I thought that it would go away before I had to perform, but the pain hadn’t faded in the slightest. I was just so worried about my friends that the thought of playing my guitar didn’t occur to me.

With my left hand I lifted the guitar out and close the case but stayed offstage. I need to test it before I get in front of my friends. After taking a deep breath, I held down the C, A and G chords and tapped my foot four times. On the fourth time, I strummed the three strings and bit my lower lip. Just that one strum was painful. If I can’t even strum once without wincing, how am I supposed to play an entire song? I’m the one that starts the song too. No, no, no, this can’t be happening. Why here, why now?

“Tasha,” Ava whispered when she reached me and tapped my shoulder. “What’s taking so long? We’re about to go on.”

I shook my hand. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“What? What’s the matter?”

“My hand…I hurt it somehow.”

“Oh man.” Ava lifted my hand carefully and glanced at it. “There’s a little discoloring around your knuckles. What did you do to it?”

“I don’t know.” My hand trembled as my eyes started to water.

Her eyes opened more. “You’re panicking? I’ve never seen you panic before a show. This isn’t like you.” She let go of my hand and placed her hands on my shoulders. “Just relax and take deep breaths. It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that. What if I freeze up the moment it’s time to play or I mess up when I play the first set of chords? Or what if my hand gets worse and I never get to play again? I’d lose out on my dream, embarrass all of us in front of an audience and label representatives and ruin our reputation.”

“It’s not going to happen. I went through this last month when I hurt my arm remember? I panicked too. So I’m going to tell you the same thing you told me: Forget about the pain, and forget about messing up. Once the adrenaline hits you won’t feel it. Just concentrate on playing. There’s nobody here but us.”

I nodded slowly and took another deep breath. She was right; it’s not like me to panic. Ava gave me a reassuring nod as I walked to the front of the mic and she walked back to her stool behind the drum set. It’s too late to back out now, and if I did I’d regret it for the rest of my life.

Through the small crack between the curtains I saw the house lights go off, and the lights on the stage dimmed with it. The DJ’s voice came on a mic, introducing my band. Some people in the audience applauded but most of them went crazy with cheers, making my band mates and I laugh. Oh yeah, lots of regulars here tonight.

The curtains opened and the stage lights came on before Ava counted off with her drumsticks. The adrenaline rush numbed the pain from my hand when I started playing a few notes on my acoustic guitar. Both Evan and Jason began to play at the same time. Ava followed soon after, just before I started to sing. Even though we’ve only played this song during previous performances here once or twice (since the song is still new), some of the regulars recognized it and were fanatical for it. It made me smile even more than I already was.

The good thing about this song is that my emotions could be intense, whether they’re the positive or negative kind, and still sing with enthusiasm. Guess which emotion I channeled when I saw Chris at the back of the club? I’d use my hatred and maintain eye contact just to spite him, but tonight’s not about him; it’s about Siren. So I took my eyes off him and back to the rest of the audience.

During the a capella part of the song, I took the mic off the stand and walked to the edge of the stage. There I bent down and shook the hands of some of the audience members, their animation making me laugh. I turned back to the mic stand and saw my friends laughing too. Then all four of us picked up the beat again.

Before we knew it, the song was over. The performance felt like much more of a rush than usual. Maybe it’s because, for the first time, there were judges in the club too. Whatever the reason, it felt great. The audience cheered long after the song finished, and the four of us expressed our gratitude towards them. Our smiles grew when they chanted ‘Encore!’ even as the curtains closed. As happy as it made me, the person I saw walking onto the stage and toward me made me frown. Hard.

Her red hair was styled into a bob and even in heels she was shorter than me. Huge round framed glasses made her head look even smaller than it already was. She had on a peach colored tweed blazer and matching pencil skirt with a white button down shirt under it. Her smug grin annoyed me the most.

“That was quite a performance,” she said.

“What do you want, Marizza?” I made sure my aggravation was carried in my voice.

“That’s Mrs. De Luca to you. And is that any way to greet me? We used to be so close.”

“You were only close to me so you could get your son to break up with me.”

“I didn’t need to influence him. When he finally realized what a whore you are, he broke up with you.”

I took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten. As much as I wanted to hurt her, I was afraid that doing so would jeopardize any chance Siren has to get a record deal. I’ve waited so long for an opportunity like this, too long to let anyone stand in my way. It’s so close now that I can practically feel the contract on the palm of my hands. Marizza knows how much this means to me too, so of course she’d deliberately push my buttons. But I can’t let her get to me; I won’t let that happen. Her husband is a Pandemonium agent and contest judge after all.

“Just tell me what you want.”

“Well, since your band seems so popular with the crowd, I think you should get what they want after all.”

I smirked. “Nice try, but we only rehearsed one song because it’s against the rules to perform twice.”

“The judges are willing to make an exception, after I made the suggestion of course.”

“Sorry, but we’re not breaking the rules.”

“That’s quite a shock coming from the likes of you.”

“Natasha McFadden,” said Vittore, Marizza’s husband, when he walked onto the stage.

He looked as clean-cut as usual, down to his neatly combed, dark brown and gray hair and mustache. His slate gray suit was pressed to perfection along with his light blue button down shirt. The matching striped tie was probably pressed or ironed too. My reflection was practically visible in his loafers. And no matter what he wore, his tummy bulge was always obvious. Even though, from a distance, he looked like a man that thought himself to be superior, he was always a good man. The sincerity in his brown eyes proved it.

“Mr. De Luca, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Siren did well tonight; better than I expected.”

“Really? That means a lot coming from you.”

Jason came over and took Marizza aside to talk to her. He hated her as much as I did, but I think he sensed that she was going to say something bitchy enough for me to want to shove her off the stage. I’m glad he did that because to this day, Mr. De Luca remains oblivious of the spiteful relationship between his wife and me.

“Why do we have to perform again?”

“Marizza made a convincing argument when she suggested it, but the truth is that the judges, including myself, wanted to see more.”

“I’m flattered, really I am, but we only rehearsed one song.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage. You were always great at thinking on your feet. That’s one of the things Alessandro liked about you.”

Alessandro. I haven’t heard his name in almost two months. I haven’t even spoken to him since we broke up.

“How is he?”

Mr. De Luca sighed. “He’s doing a little better, but is still dejected. Can you find it in your heart to ever forgive him? He misses you.”

I looked away and sighed. “No matter the reason, I just can’t forgive him. And even if I could, I could never forget it. I’d always wonder if there’s someone else he’d have his eye on while dating me. I can’t trust him to be faithful anymore.”

“Even under such an unusual circumstance?”

“Yeah. If he knew me as well as I thought, he wouldn’t have been fooled.”

He nodded. “I understand. I might even feel the same if I was in your shoes, even if he is my son.”

I smiled. At least there’s one person in his family that I can reason with.

“I must head back to the judges’ table. Good luck with your next performance.”

“Thank you.”

Mr. De Luca walked off the stage and Marizza followed, but not before looking my way with an arrogant smirk on her face. I took a step towards her and stopped myself from taking another. None of the judges would’ve thought of having us perform twice if it wasn’t for her suggestion. That bitch; she’s just setting us up to fail.

“What are we going to do now?” Ava asked.

“What else can we do?” said Jason. “We have to perform.”

“But we didn’t rehearse anything else.”

“No, we haven’t,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean that we don’t know any other song.” I turned to face them with determination in my eyes. “We’ve put on a show here enough to have other songs memorized so much that we can play it in our sleep. The regulars may have heard them, but the rest of the audience and the judges haven’t. We have options even without practice.”

The four of us thought about what song to play before Evan made a suggestion. “Maybe we could try the untitled song. We haven’t played it much either, but it’s full of energy. It gets the audience singing along every time. That would make a great impression with the judges.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Jason. “You guys got the music and lyrics memorized? ‘Cause I’m not carrying any of them with me.”

“I have them,” I said with a smile. “I have the lyrics memorized, but if you guys don’t then I can give you a copy of it. It’s in my guitar case.”

“I might need one,” said Ava.

“Okay. Get to your posts while I grab the sheets.”

Ava stopped me after I walked a few steps stage right. “How’s your hand?” she asked.

“Feels absolutely wonderful,” I said with a grin.

She chuckled. “That bad, huh.”

“I think it got worse once I stopped playing.” I tried to straighten out my fingers but it hurt too much. “Honestly, I thought that playing my guitar this way would be murder, but I didn’t feel it. The rush numbed it.”

“See? I told you it’d be fine. At least you don’t need to play for this song. Just use the mic with your left hand.”

“I definitely will. This claw isn’t going to be able to grab a damn thing.”

My guitar case was left offstage where I can see it. When I took out the music sheets I placed my guitar in the case and closed it. One of the backstage crew members told me she’d watch it while we played so I thanked her. There were enough copies for each of us, but I didn’t need it. I quickly read over the lyrics before handing the others the copies though, just in case.

The host of the contest peeked through the curtains and asked if we were ready. We gave him a nod and he smiled. He reintroduced us, just before the lights dimmed completely and the curtains reopened. The crowd cheered more than the first time, making us smile.

Ava counted off with her drumsticks once more and then Evan played his guitar. I started singing about a second after Jason and Ava started playing. When I jumped up and down in place, the audience did too. Every time a specific line in the chorus was sung, I pointed the mic towards the audience and they shouted it out. I glanced towards the back of the club and tried not to laugh when I saw Calista and Kyle singing along. I’m surprised Chris didn’t have them chained to each other.

When the song was over, I was breathing faster than usual, but the adrenaline rush still coursed through me and kept my excitement high. Demands for an additional performance came from the audience as the four of us. Once the curtains closed we rushed off the stage before Marizza could try to approach us again. We cheered enthusiastically offstage and congratulated each other on how well we did. The backstage crew pulled the trolley that Ava’s drums sat on, and as they packed the drums back in their cases, I made my way towards the front of the club. On my way there, I saw Marizza push her glasses closer to her face and cross her arms below her bust. I gave her a smirk.

“The audience gets what they want, right?” I said while walking passed her.

I glanced at Chris just after I said it, and I swear I saw him smile. I didn’t know that he even knew how. But I know that if I point it out, he’ll give me some kind of comment that would kill my good mood. Kyle and Calista held out their hands and the three of us laughed when I high-fived them. They congratulated me with their thrill still strong, which made my smile grow even more.

“I was afraid we’d mess up,” I told them. “We were only supposed to play one song. The judges wanted us to play another, so we improvised on the spot.”

“That wasn’t rehearsed?” Kyle asked.

“Not recently, no.”

“Man, you guys are good.”

“Good enough to win I hope.”

“Too bad you won’t be around to find out. We’ve been here long enough,” said Chris. He grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the exit.

“Let go! My guitar’s backstage and I need to see who won!”

“Calista.”

“I’m on it,” she said before she rushed towards backstage.

“Can’t I at least say bye to my friends?”

“No. Call them if you want to know who the winners are if you want, but we’re leaving now.”

“Then let me go. I can walk out the club myself.”

He ignored me and just kept pulling me out. It was painful to struggle, so I tried to keep up with him. Calista came back and handed me my guitar. Then she pulled out car keys and walked away. Chris and I stopped at the edge of the sidewalk.

“Why did we stop?” I asked.

“Waiting for the car.”

“What, no teleporting?”

“Who told you I can teleport?”

“I have my sources.”

A metallic gray car pulled up in front of us. I glanced at the back of the car to see what kind it was; a Porsche 911 GT3. It looked brand new, but when I climbed into the passenger seat, it didn’t have that new car smell. The light gray seats were made of leather and the car, inside and out, was spotless. I’ve never seen a car so clean. Then again, I’m used to being driven in the bulky Volkswagen van that smells like fast food my band mates and I use to go from show-to-show. Chris walked to the driver’s side just after Kyle stepped out of the car. Then Kyle handed Chris the keys and walked to the sidewalk. The BMW 7 Series that I came in pulled up to the curb and Kyle went inside. I guess we were traveling back in separate groups.

“That woman, Marizza, seems to really like you,” Chris said without looking at me.

“Of course. We get along as well as you and I do.” I creased my eyebrows before looking at him. “How do you know her?”

“I don’t. But the both of you have an interesting history together.”

“And how would you know about that?”

“Telepathy.”

I glared at him but he ignored it. Taking a deep breath, I looked out the window and crossed my arms. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped prying into my mind and my personal life. If there was something I wanted you to know, then I’d tell you myself.”

“I never said that I retrieved the information from your mind.” He looked at me then, and I did the same. “It was from hers. She had a lot of interesting comments about you, especially when I read about how she lied to her son about you cheating on him, and the fact that he believed her over you.”

I wanted to be angry at Chris, but my anger towards Marizza was greater. Hearing Chris retell about what happened during my last relationship brought back memories I fought to bury, memories I promised myself I wouldn’t unearth. That relationship wouldn’t have turned so sour if it wasn’t for that cute hoor’s meddling. That fecking mary hick never did like me much.

“For what it’s worth,” Chris started to say, “I don’t like her either. If it was possible to read her aura, it would have the words ‘evil bitch’ written all over it.”

I smiled a little, but since my face was turned towards the window, he might not have caught it. But then I had a thought that made my smile go away. I looked at Chris with my eyes open a little more than usual until he turned to face me.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You know Marizza’s a bitch, and so do I. That means that, we actually agree on something.” I brushed my hands up and down my arm. “Don’t you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“The chill. I think hell just froze over.”

When I glanced at Chris, I saw the ends of his lips curl up. My eyes widened and I gasped slowly. “You’re…smiling? I thought that the only time I’d see you smile was while you were torturing me.”

“It’s not too late.”

I stared at him. “Very funny.” I moved my right arm a little and winced in pain from my hand. The pain had gotten worse. “Turn on the light for a minute. I need to see something.”

To my surprise, he did it without a word. Looking at my hand made me angry again. It started to swell and change to a purple and blue color around my knuckles. I couldn’t move a single finger without wincing, even while using my left hand to aid it. My hand felt as if it was being roasted to a crisp. I can’t do anything else with it tonight.

“What happened to your hand?” he asked.

I glared at him. “My hand is like this because of you!” I spoke strongly. “You nearly crushed it when I tried to sock you, so I nearly lost my chance of playing successfully tonight. You sabotaged my performance. I don’t know when my strumming hand will work again.”

“Mortals are so much weaker than I thought,” he said lowly, but I heard it. “Maybe you’ll think twice before trying to strike me. I’m not a force to be reckoned with.”

We had one small conversation that makes me think we might be able to get along, but then that arrogant mouth ruined it.

“Can’t you heal it like you did with my other injuries?”

“My blood would have to travel through an open wound.” He pulled out his pocketknife and flicked the blade out of the handle. “Care to give it a try?” he said with a smirk.

I glared again. “No.” For all I know, he could end up cutting my hand off.

“Suit yourself.” He pushed the blade back into the handle and slipped the switchblade back into his pocket.

The car slowed down to a stop, but not in front of the mansion. I glanced out the window and at the six story brick apartment building with steps leading towards the entrance. “Why are we at my apartment?” I asked.

“A deal is a deal. Your performances were uninterrupted, and your friends remained unharmed. Now it’s time for you to uphold your end of the bargain. We’re here to acquire your belongings.”

That killed my mood. During the performance, I had pushed aside the thought of moving into the mansion. Now the memory of it came rushing back to me. I have to live with this gobshite; see him daily, remain confined in that one building, not seeing my friends…I don’t want to live in that hell hole. But for the sake of my friends and their safety, I’ll do what I have to do. So with a deep breath, I lifted the guitar off my laps and got out of the car.
________________________________________
Murder: very difficult
Cute hoor: Untrustworthy/sly person
Mary hick: old-fashioned female
Strumming hand: the hand a guitarist uses to strum the guitar. To strum is to brush the strings of the guitar with fingers or a pick.