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The woman—Samantha Hartley—looks directly at the camera, and I put the volume up to hear over the heavy sobbing that Madds can’t seem to get under control. “Wait—” Samantha says, pressing her fingers to the small device in her ear as horror dances across her face. “Are . . . Are you sure?”
There’s a slight commotion off screen and her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” she says, doing what she can to try and regain her professionalism. “We have breaking news coming in—devastating news for fans of Demon’s Curse.”
The screen splits, showing both Samantha in the studio and a picture of Demon’s Curse, the four boys—Ezra, Axel, Rock, and Dylan—at the close of their Australian show.
“Details are only just coming in. However, it has been confirmed that one of the members of the rock sensation, Demon’s Curse, has died.”
My heart stops. Time stops.
My whole fucking world stops.
This can’t be right. This has to be some kind of sick joke.
“As of yet, we have no details to confirm which member has perished or the details surrounding the death. Reports state that during the night, the band arrived safely back in the States after the Australian leg of their world tour. As you can imagine, this is shocking news, and fans everywhere will feel this heavy loss,” Samantha continues, desperately trying to keep her composure. “We will keep you posted as news comes in.”
The video cuts to a montage of the band, and as my hands shake so violently, the phone falls from my fingers and crashes onto my bedsheet. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No. This isn’t happening. It’s a joke, some bullshit social media prank. I would know,” I tell Madds. “I would know if something happened to one of them.”
“Rae,” she whispers, reaching for my arm, but I spring away, grabbing my phone.
“I WOULD KNOW.”
The deepest pity flashes in her eyes as the overwhelming grief infects me like a deadly illness. Surely I would know. If something happened to Ezra or Axel, I would feel it right in the center of my chest. I wouldn’t be able to breathe. My soul would be shattered on the floor.
If something had happened to either of them, surely I would be dead too because I couldn’t possibly survive in a world where they’re not here.
No. This isn’t right.
If Axel was dead, my phone would be ringing non-stop. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the notifications. The police should be calling, fans flooding my social media accounts demanding to know what I know, my friends, the record label . . . Ezra. If this were true, he would have called, but there’s nothing but silence.
But what if it’s him? What if Ezra was the one who . . . fuck. I can’t even bring myself to think the words.
“Rae,” Madds tries again.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t lose them. Either of them.”
Tears stream down my face like waterfalls, and I unlock my phone, determined to prove them wrong. I know it’s the middle of the night, and Axel is probably tucked in bed, but all I need is to call him. He’ll set the record straight, but as my screen comes to life, I finally see it.
Over a hundred missed calls.
Thousands of Instagram DMs.
Threads. TikTok. Facebook. Whatsapp. Even my emails are flooded. My phone simply can’t keep up with the demand. While it’s shocking and heartbreaking, it’s also more than enough to prove that this is so much more than some bullshit social media story.
This is as real as it gets.
One of them is gone.
I instantly curse myself. I’d gotten home from my bullshit date and thrown myself into my studies. I’d put my phone on Do Not Disturb and thumbed through the endless pages of my textbooks until I couldn’t keep my eyes open a moment longer. If I’d just left my phone alone—
Oh God. My last conversation with Axel, I was so short with him. What if that was our very last conversation? What if I never get a chance to tell him how much I love him? How his happiness means the world to me. How I’m so damn proud of him?
Throwing myself from my bed, I pace my room as I madly start trying numbers.
Axel. Dylan. Rock. The label. The boys’ manager. Their fucking producer and sound technician. But nothing. Every one of their phones are off.
The panic and emptiness within me feel like nothing I’ve ever known, and as the hopelessness weighs down on me, I crumble to the ground. The pain is agonizing, like a vise closing around my chest and refusing me just a moment of peace, but what does it matter? If it’s Ezra or Axel, peace is something I’ll never find again.
My face falls into my hands as the gut-wrenching sobs tear from the back of my throat, and not a moment later, Madds is right there with me, her knees crashing against the cheap carpet as she pulls me into her arms. “It’s going to be okay,” she vows, struggling to get the words out. “I’m going to be right here every step of the way. We’ll get through this.”
