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“Whatever you want, luv,” Jagger quietly says.
Asher stands up, grins at me, and silently goes back to the mixer, where I see hundreds of different vinyl records and assume they’re sampling for beats.
“Get comfortable then,” Haze says, and I lead Storm to the mini couch.
Fuck. I have crazy, illicitly hot memories with all five of them here. Not on this particular furniture, it looks new and if I remember correctly the old one was black leather, this one’s red.
“I’m surprised you kept the house,” I say, leaving my large slouchy hobo bag on the couch and grabbing a seat next to Ash. He hands me a set of headphones.
“Me too,” I hear Haze say before putting on the set to listen to what they’ve been working on.
It’s almost midnight, and I mentioned after dinner, I would have an early night because I was tired from the long drive.
It was half a lie.
In truth, I’m totally wired with all the feelings I’m experiencing.
Surreal doesn’t even cover my emotions. To be back in the house where it all started. The place where I gave myself to these boys and thus began a year of our whirlwind romance. And the whole evening with them, I had to keep reminding myself that this is purely business. But how does one separate oneself from the past and live in the present when the past feelings are still so raw?
I’m glad the guys kept their distance but in a friendly way. None of them talked about their personal lives. I have no idea whether they have girlfriends, wives, or children back in England.
My brain is a freaking mess.
And here I am, staring at the blackened ceiling in this dark room with the lights off, wondering whether I can do this and be in close proximity with them again.
They all smell so fucking good too—
My thoughts are interrupted as my phone buzzes a message notification.
Maybe it’s Brittney, and she wants to hear the lowdown from me. I turn to my side and unplug the phone from the charger.
Anon:Good to see you’re back.
Who is this?
An unsettling feeling casts a dark shadow over me.
A shiver runs down my spine as the phone vibrates in my hand.
Anon:Your biggest fan.
A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, a visceral reaction to the unwelcome intrusion into my personal space. A mixture of fear, anger, and a resurgence of memories I had sought to bury surge within me. The message is a jarring reminder of a past I had worked hard to distance myself from.
I switch my phone off and shove it into the bedside table drawer.
That once-forgotten fear resurfaces, and the simple act of receiving a text message becomes a stark reminder of the complex emotions tied to an unfortunate and unsettling chapter of my life.
Closing my eyes, I pray that tomorrow produces a better day.
I’m navigating a surreal realm where shadows seem to dance with an unsettling life of their own.
As I traverse an unfamiliar landscape, the surroundings twist and morph, revealing an ever-shifting reality. The colors are muted, and it feels like I’m in a distorted reflection of my subconscious fears. I continue moving with a sense of trepidation, an unspoken awareness that something malevolent lurks in the shadows, watching my every move.
In the distance, an ominous figure takes shape—an embodiment of darkness and malice. Its presence seems to warp the entire area, casting an unsettling pallor over the landscape. A chill runs down my spine as the figure approaches, its features obscured by a shroud of darkness.
“Eden.”
Everything is warped and contorted, and I’m struggling to escape the clutches of this dark force that seems to feed on my fears.
