Page 47 of Fractured Heart

Like the bottom of the sea

You touch my soul

Each time you run to me

I’ll be your king

You’ll be my slave

I’ll be your death

You’ll be my grave

The breathtaking intensity of his song leaves me rooted in place. Unlike Prince Charming, who sings with sweet perfection, the Dark Prince’s heartfelt vocals bring tears to my eyes. His voice is filled with painful emotions that hurt like a physical wound. My heart constricts as I wait for something, some relief, though it never comes.

He stops mid-verse, leaving me gutted. My heart pounds loudly in my chest and I part my lips in search of the right words. It’s not enough to tell him his song is beautiful, or breathtaking or gut-wrenching. It’s all those things, but it’s so much more.

He starts to sing again, and I’m right back there with him, listening to that same song, note after painful note. My eyes glisten with unshed tears as his longing speaks to something deep inside of me. I need him to finish the verse, to end the sweet torture.

Then, he stops. In the exact same spot. And the song and I are left incomplete.

With an anguished cry, he slams his hands on the piano. The sound rings out through the rehearsal space as he spins around to face me. “What the hell are you still doing here?” He screams, his voice cracking. “I thought I told you to leave.”

My eyes widen. I feel his words like a punch and quickly back out of the room. Stupidly, I crash into the doorframe. I hit it at an angle that makes my bruised back light up with agony. It twists through me, coiling around the hurt I still feel from listening to the Dark Prince’s song.

I barely hold back a pained cry. His words and his voice made me feel like he understood me in a way that no one else does. Like I understood him. But he doesn’t feel the same way. He wants me gone.

My back throbs and tears spring up to my eyes. The Dark Prince shows no sympathy; no evidence of the connection I was so sure we’d shared.

“What’s wrong with you? Do you understand how hard it is to write a song?”

I nod. I understand.

His eyes flash. “Do you know how long I worked on this song? All semester. Every. Single. Day. Playing this song. Over, and over, and over again. I’ve been going insane! I can’t get it out of my head.”

He threads his fingers through his hair and tries to catch his breath. A single tear runs down my cheek as I watch him. I’ve never met anyone who felt as passionate about songwriting as I do. Not until today. Not until this Dark Prince, who I connected with after one glance.

“I finally had it,” he cries. “I could feel it. I was close, and you…” His eyes burn into me with barely contained rage. “You ruined it.”

I’m sorry. I open my mouth to say the words, but I can’t speak. I try to, several times. I open my mouth and close it, like a fish out of water. No, not quite. I’ve been rendered mute, like the little mermaid. This campus really is my fairy tale dream come to life.

I already found Prince Charming and the Beast. I’ve stayed in their castle of a dorm. They’ve even treated me like a princess, dressing me in fancy clothes and giving me even fancier food. Even JJ fit into that fairy tale, waking me from my sleep. Does that make him the prince to my sleeping beauty?

“You don’t get it, do you?” the Dark Prince spits. He folds his lean, strong arms over his chest, obscuring the band logo. His eyes roam over my body, taking in my fancy, designer clothes and ballet flats before landing on the phone in my hand. “You don’t belong here. So do me a favor and get out.”

Chapter 24

My hand instinctively flies up to my necklace. My fingers graze bare skin. How long before I get used to the fact that my heart pendant isn't there? That it’s broken, like the rest of me?

How did the Dark Prince figure it out? How did he see past the fancy clothes and even fancier phone? How did he know that I’m not good enough? That I don’t belong?

At least now that I’ve heard him sing, I know why I didn’t get accepted at LUV Academy. My songs are child’s play compared to his. They’re just silly little tunes about fairy tales that no one cares about. Well, no one but me.

I’ve never written anything gut-wrenchingly beautiful the way the Dark Prince has. And he can sing, too, hitting each note with piercing perfection. If I was even half as good a singer as him, I might have stood a chance. Instead, I’ve got a whiney voice that makes Father cringe.

I have to get out of here!

I spin around and crash into a hard, male chest. Pain reverberates through my ribs, and it’s the last straw. I start to sob.