Page 11 of Wrecked By a Devil

“That’s the spirit,” I laugh. “You can borrow my notes if you want.”

“That’d be great,” She grins, her eyes beaming. “Thank you so much, Riley!”

“Don’t mention it,” I smile back. “But let’s hope it doesn’t get to that and you pass on the first try.”

“Ugh, I hope so,” She sighs, clearly exhausted. “Would you like to grab a coffee later? I don’t have classes today, so I’m free.”

Before I get a chance to answer, we get interrupted by my loud ringtone. I look at the screen to see Mia’s name. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

“No worries, see you tomorrow!”

“See you!” After Sofia leaves, I answer Mia’s call. “Hey, what’s up.”

“Where are you?” Mia asks immediately, skipping the greeting. “Are you close by?”

“Oh, crap!” I pull my phone away and look at the time, realizing I’m already late for the rehearsal. “I completely lost track of time, I’ll be right there!”

“Hurry up, I’ll cover for you,” Mia says.

“Thank you, love you!”

“Love you, too!” She then laughs and adds. “You owe me one.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Just hurry, ‘kay?”

“I’m on my way.”

I end the call and immediately reach for my wallet. A cab would get me to Eden in half the time, but after counting the cash inside, I already know that’s not happening. My credit card is sitting on the kitchen counter back at the apartment.

“Crap!”

Looks like I’m taking the bus.

Luck seems to be on my side and I arrive at Eden not long after hanging up the call with Mia. The first thing I notice when I walk in, is how different the club looks in daylight. Last night, everything had been bathed in neon light, making it difficult to focus on anything besides the stage and the audition. And getting out after the encounter with my now boss.

My heart skips at the memory and I quickly push the thought away.

He’s not someone you should be thinking about.

Today the place looks almost ordinary.

Almost.

The expensive furniture, polished floors, and the elegant décor still make it clear that Eden isn’t just any club, but it still feels far less intimidating than it did the night before. For a moment, it’s easy to forget what happens behind closed doors in this place.

I try to find the dressing room from memory, but every turn only leaves me more lost than before.

“Excuse me, I’m late for rehearsals and I…”

“Say no more,” the bartender smiles. “You’re looking for the dressing rooms, right?”

“Yes,” I nod.

“Don’t worry, following that hallway,” he turns around and points in the direction he just arrived from. “You’ll see the changing room, and from there, you’ll be right on stage.”

“Thank you so much!”