Page 18 of Malice in e minor

The rules for that varied by orchestra. Some didn’t care, some did. It was why all my tattoos could be covered with orchestra blacks. He could be an art student, but why was he in the practice rooms instead of the art studios?

“Relax, Harlowe. It’s not that deep and I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not a student here. I’m a scout, of sorts. Sometimes, you’ll see me and sometimes, you won’t. It’s my job to figure out who to put you in front of as you graduate. And I’m very good at my job.”

“I thought Dr Faustus was the one with the connections?”

“He’s not the only one. And have you met him? I’m much more likeable than that malcontent tosser. I’m also loads better looking.”

I mean, he wasn’t lying. Topher was beautiful. He was built like he could be in the dance program, even if he was much taller than the average dancer. Topher was all hard lines and sharp cheekbones except for that full, soft mouth. I put away any thoughts about that mouth because my dating history was full of mistakes and bad decisions. Even a one night stand with this guy was a bad idea. Down girl. There were probably plenty of people here if I got tired of my vibrator.

“I saw you thinking about it for a minute,” he smirked. “You shut that down pretty quick. A weaker person would have asked me for a shag in exchange for a good audience. Several of them have.”

“If I ever fucked you, it would be because you look like that. If I end up graduating from this place with a contract, it’s going to be because I earned it, not because I fucked the pretty goth boy who knows people.”

“Students are off limits, but you just made me hate my job,” Topher moaned.

Looking at him, I hated his job too. Pity he wasn’t just an art student. Still, Topher looked like he was my age. How did he get so many connections in the art world and if he had them, what was he doing here at his age instead of out in the world being an average twenty-six-year-old?

This was a strange place.

“Tell me again,” I demanded, playing the video of Harlowe in the subway for the twentieth time.

Orion rolled his eyes and flipped me off as Misha stretched his leg over his head. We were getting ready to leave for Nutcracker rehearsals.

There wasn’t much for art students to do for this performance. The sets had been designed ages ago since this was an annual performance. The theatre students had to spend so many hours backstage putting sets together a semester. They wouldn’t let me help out, even though I was rather famous for that. Wankers. I managed to get myself on stage with my lovers, anyway.

“Play it again,” Misha said, doing that sexy thing with his leg that always got me going.

“Not you too,” Orion groaned.

I walked over and flicked his nose. Orion growled at me and kicked me in the shin. Fucker. He’d never punch me just like I’d never punch him. Our hands were our money makers. Kicking each other was totally fine though. Our feet weren’t insured like our hands. Misha’s legs were another story.

“She’s good. This girl’s music makes Misha want to dance, I got an idea for a painting, and we saw you drumming your fingers every time I played the video. She makes you want to play. What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m not a musician, but I can hear the two of you playing something you wrote together with me dancing and Azriel painting.”

Exactly. I didn’t know a damned thing about making music or dancing, but I had some understanding of both because I’d known Orion and Misha for so long. We didn’t care about all this bullshit. We just wanted to make art and perform. Caring about it ages ago was what got us into this mess.

Orion kicked me again because he’d never kick Misha, even when Misha was in a mood. Arsehole.

“Did you complete muppets miss who found her in the subway and brought her here? Or that fucking Gadreel was there too? Yeah, I’ve heard her music, and I’d like to make it with her. She’s off limits because he’s claimed her. Have you forgotten what would happen if we really misbehaved?”

Oh, yeah. Just another reason to hate him. He gave, sure, but he took a lot more than that. He preyed on insecurities and a lot of artists had those in spades. We didn’t speak for a minute because we were thinking about the past.

“I wish we could warn her,” Misha said. “She spilled her drink on herself on purpose.”

She did. Misha had been about two seconds away from having a panic attack in front of everyone. She distracted him and everyone else by dumping her coffee down her shirt. If it had been anyone else on their first day who didn’t know Orion and me would bring the fires of Hell down on anyone who made Misha feel bad and he’d just knocked their friend over, they would have made a different kind of scene.

It endeared me to her, even if we’d never spoken. This was a cutthroat world. We were all in competition with each other and everything was an audition. Even random interactions in the dining hall.

I wanted to warn her too, but it would seal our fate.

“I had her pegged for being totally down with all of this, but she’s not,” Topher said, appearing in our room. “She demanded Johann get in touch with her patron to get a wellness check on his brother. It was sexy, really.”

That creepy fucker was everywhere and Topher wasn’t even his real name. He was constantly lurking, and I was betting Harlowe thought she was alone when she had that conversation with Johann. I used to like that about him. We all did at one point. It was sexy in a dangerous way.

But then he betrayed us and now we had to see him here every day. We made it clear we blamed him for everything and didn’t want him around. He still popped up every now and then like herpes.

He seemed to want to commiserate about the new girl. Yes, it was hilarious she demanded Johann call Lucifer and get a wellness check on Gadreel. It was also a good sign she wouldn’t go down the same road so many people had. Not because she was worried about the consequences, but because she didn’t believe in any of this.