Concrete Castle

As soon we stepped into the club the The Maine was playing at, we were bombarded with the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume. The guys had gone around back to set up, leaving Baylee and I to navigate the crowd by ourselves. Not that we couldn't manage...

“So have you heard them play?” I asked Baylee loudly over the music already playing.

“Yeah, actually, I go to all their practices...well, mostly.” Baylee answered, ordering us a couple sodas at the counter. “I figure we'll start of slow, probably once the boys are done.”

“For sure.” I nodded, “Are they any good?”

“I like them a lot, I think you will, too.”

“John's the singer, right?” I at least knew that much. Baylee nodded quickly.

The hour dragged on until The Maine was due onstage, but Baylee and I kept ourselves entertained by dancing with random strangers. When the music stopped, Baylee pulled me up by the pseudo-stage area, excited to see her boyfriend play.

John stepped onstage with a new level of that self-assured presence that was as annoying as it was endearing. Then he started singing.

Almost instantly, I knew I liked it. Though, I wouldn't ever admit that to him. I danced with Baylee to the beat, letting it take my thoughts away.

By the time I worked up a fine sweat, they were already on their fourth song. A few other people in the small crowd were getting into it as well.

“So, did you like it?” John's voice cut through the club noise to my ear. “I saw you dancing.” I put down my soda, turning to him with a large smile on my face.

“I did actually, who knew you'd be such a good singer.”

“A lot of people, actually.” He replied cheekily. “Do you want to step outside with me? I'm so hot.” He fanned in front of his red face. I nodded, following close behind as he led the way out of the sweaty room. “Ahhhhh,” He sighed, “That's better.”

I leaned against the cool brick of the building. “So, do you play these shows often?” I asked.

“Almost every week. Sometimes twice a week.” He answered happily, as if excited that I was talking civilly with him. But, it was probably just adrenaline from the show.

“That's wonderful. So, are you guys going to like...get a label or something?”

John shrugged, and left it at that and we fell into a comfortable silence.

“I never thought I'd see the day when you two weren't fighting.” Pat's voice sounded from the doors.

“It's actually been happening a lot in the last couple days. I'm frightened, too.” I shot back.

“Really, it's nice. I won't get as many headaches.” Pat joked.

“How about we celebrate with a round of drinks, yeah?” John put in, “I'll buy.”

“Right on.” Pat punched his fist in the air and led the way back inside the club, and the way to the bar.

John motioned to the bartender and he handed him three beers, which he passed around to Pat and me. I don't actually want to drink too much tonight, since it would eventually lead to falling asleep, but I don't want to make it seem like I'm being rude by refusing his drink.

“Thanks.” I nodded shortly to him, tipping my bottle a few inches.

“I think that's the first time you've ever thanked me for anything.” John mentioned, smiling as he pressed the bottle to his lips.

“I wouldn't get used to it.” I lifted a shoulder before taking a long pull from the bottle.

…..

It wasn't long before I got a little tipsy, mostly because I hardly ever drank. Especially on a Monday night. Classes would probably suck tomorrow. “Okay, okay, no more.” I laughed, pushing the bottle away from me, shaking my head.

“No!” Baylee whined, “How about some shots?” She tried to bait. I shook my head some more, “You're a party pooper!”

“Just because I don't want to be dead for classes.” I laughed, standing up from the table and fixing my shirt. “I'm going to head out.” I waved.

“I'll walk go with you.” John piped up, about as tipsy as I was. “So you're safe.”

“I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself. We're in Phoenix, for Pete's sake. What could happen?” I threw my arms out side.

“A lot when you're pretty and tipsy.” Garrett put in, “You should let him go with you. I would, but I have to make sure these idiots get home safely.” He explained.

I was a little flattered at Garrett's comment, no matter if he meant it or not, and nodded. “Just don't try anything, scumbag.”

“I'll be an angel.” John put up his hands in surrender.

“I have a pretty good right hook, so be warned.”

“I know how well you hit, Daisy.”

“Daisy?” I asked him, eyebrows raised as we hit the midnight Arizona air.

John raised one shoulder, “I can't call you 'Dev' so I need some kind of nickname, right?”

“Yeah, but why Daisy?”

“Because...you always wear those same earrings. Not matter if they match or not.”

“They were a gift.” I defended, fingers finding the earrings in question.

“From who?”

“My mom.”

We waited in silence for the cab I called a few minutes ago, when it finally arrived and we got it, my eyelids started to feel heavy. I don't know if it was an effect of the alcohol or what, but as I leaned against him for support, my mouth slipped, “You know what, John?” I paused for a yawn, “You're not such a bad guy after all.”

“...No, I'm not.” I could detect a bit of hesitance and a note of unsureness on his part, but I was falling asleep before I could mention it.

…

“Devon!” I voice cut through the loud sobbing and echoing screams of my nightmare, shaking me awake. “Devon! Wake up!”

My eyes flew open as I bolted upright. I fell asleep. I was drenched in sweat and panting.

“Are you okay?” John asked.

I nodded, running a hand over my forehead, “I'm fine.”

“You were screaming.” Halvo pipes up and I finally realize where I am.

“Why am I here?” I looked at John, who is standing beside the bed, only in boxers. I lick my dry lips, trying to concentrate.

“You must have left your keys with Baylee or someone because you didn't have them. So I just brought you back here.” John explained.

“Am I in your bed?”

“Yeah, but I was sleeping on the couch thing.” John motioned to the other side of the room, “Are you sure you're okay?” I got out of his warm bed and searched for my shoes. “Where are you going?”

“To my own apartment.” I answered, feeling my head throb.

“Just sleep here. I don't mind. Halvo doesn't either. Right, Halvo?” John directed his attention to the other bed, where Eric was already curled up once again.

“I don't mind.” He replied sleepily, “Dev's cool.”

“No! I can't sleep!” I burst unexpectedly. “I can't.”

“Why?” John asked, blocking my way to the door.

“Be--” I knock at the door cut me off.

“Is everything alright in there?” A male voice boomed.

“Uh, yeah, just a little nightmare, Chris. All is well.” John answered.

“No more noise, alright, John?” The man, Chris, laughed.

“You got it.” He chuckled, then looked back at me.” Why can't you sleep?” He asked again.

I was hoping he'd forget. “I just can't, okay?”

“Stay, please. It's almost two in the morning and I doubt Baylee is even home to get you inside.”

He had a point, whether I liked it or not.

I sighed, dropping my shoes, “You can have your bed back.”

“How about...I stay up with you? To give you some company...”

“Go to sleep, John.” I sat on the couch cross-legged, picking up one of the many books piled on the ground.

“That's a good on.” John mentioned, sitting down next to me.

“You read?”

“Don't sound so surprised, Daisy, of course I read.”

“Fooled me.” I shot back, wanting to forget the graphic pictures and horrible memories still fresh in my mind.

It was quiet once again while I read by the dim light of the lamp on the stand a couple feet away.

“What was it about, your nightmare?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to.

I gulped, “Not being about to help someone.” I answered vaguely, closing the book.

“Was it your mom?” He asked.

I looked up at him from my examination of the cover, “Ho-how did you know?”

“You kept calling for her in your sleep. What happened?”

“I don't--” I swallowed once again, feeling the tears burn at the back of my eyes, “I don't want to talk about it.”

John slung and arm around my shoulder, “Okay.” He pulled my to him in a sideways hug. “We won't talk about it.”

If even for a moment, I let his arms comfort me.

-John-

She was still shaking as I held her, it must have been some dream. But, it got me thinking...

One, she hardly ever talks about her parents. Like, at all. Though, she did seem more apt to talk about her mom, and not her dad. I at least knew her mom's name, Mary. I also knew that she had died. But, I didn't get that information from Devon, Baylee mentioned it once.

Two, I've never seen her parents. Ever. I did see a picture of her mother once, it fell out of her bag once in one of our classes a few years ago. Devon looked just like her. And again, her father, I had no idea.

And three, she's been living Baylee for as long as I've known her. Baylee mentioned that it had been that way since they were eleven. Which means she had to have had a family before then, right?

She pushed away from my gently and sniffled before opening the book back up. Even though her nose had started to run, it didn't look like she was crying. She was holding back.

Which further proves my theory that she never cries. At least, not in front of people.

To be honest, I was still kind of freaked out by her screaming. I have never heard someone sound so terrified and...hurt. It even still showed in her eyes.

I watched as she stared at the book. She was only pretending to read, her eyes weren't moving. I wanted to know what that whole episode was all about. But, unlike the book sitting in her lap, she was closed off.

Not only to me, but to everyone. Not even Baylee knew what was going through Devon's mind, I suspect. This girl is a mystery to me.

A mystery that I wanted to solve.