Page 97 of Sin

Even the other band members' eyes glazed over for a second as my command also hit them, and the singer instantly handed me her guitar, no longer hesitating.

“Thanks,” I said with a grin, slipping the strap over my shoulder and making sure it was tuned how I needed it.

And that was how I ended up front and center on the stage with the microphone stand clasped in my hands. London and the others had left the table to see me perform my dare, and they watched me with amusement from the patio doorway.

I swallowed, but I couldn’t deny the excitement that came with this game. Was I really going to do this?

Hell, yes, I was.

Because I was Sinclair Gonzalez, and if there was one thing I excelled at, it was charming the hell out of people.

Usually. My depression had really done a number on me.

I winked at the team before giving the room full of diners my attention. “Good evening, everyone! How’s everyone doing tonight?”

There were a few, polite mumbled responses, but for the most part, everyone remained quiet, choosing to ignore me in favor of eating.

No matter though.

Smiling, I said, “Escape the Faith has kindly allowed me a chance to steal the stage for a little bit. I have a little song I wrote for a special man here tonight, so without further ado, I present to you all, “These Memories of You.”

Grabbing the cordless microphone and stand, I hopped off the small stage and sauntered toward the group of guys Mare had pointed out earlier. I singled out a random one, a guy with blond hair and kind, brown eyes, smirking as his eyes widened at my attention. I dragged an empty chair from a nearby table over and sat facing the blond, placing the microphone right by my side and adjusted its height.

I ran my fingers over the strings of the guitar, going over the melody I had memorized in my head. I smiled at the blond. “Fair warning, I haven’t played the guitar in years. So sorry in advance if I mess up.” Then I started to play, and like I’d guessed, it took me a hot second to get the feel of the guitar on my lap, the strings beneath the pads of my fingers. I wasn’t as bad as I thought I’d be though, and I started to relax as I strummed the intro of my song. But even as I started to sing, my gaze drifted over the blond guy’s head, locking on the man the lyrics were written for. “I wake up each night to the memory of you,” I sang, voice slow and soft. “Your head on my pillow… Your bare skin on view…”

The blond guy turned scarlet, and his buddies elbowed and heckled him good naturedly as I continued, “And just when I think I can fall back asleep… I can't help remembering… Us tangled in sheets…”

I winked at the blond, even as I kept stealing glances over his booth as London stared, his expression a mishmash of emotions I didn’t have enough time to decipher.

“Oh, I don’t want,” I crooned into the microphone, letting my words fill with longing. “I don't want to wake up… Oh, let me…Please let me sleep…” I closed my eyes as I started the chorus and letting my fingers pick up the pace as I strummed. “At least with my eyes closed… I can pretend… ’Cause at least in my dreams… You’re more than a friend…”

As the last notes of the chorus melted, I opened my eyes and smiled. The blond watched me in awe as I continued the song. “I’ve stopped setting alarms so I can sleep in… ’Cause when my eyes open… The nightmare begins… I keep being told things get better someday… So until then… I’ll dream of yesterday…” My fingers moved faster over the guitar strings, stinging slightly from the lack of practice and calluses. But I pushed on, my voice coming out stronger as I sang the chorus, letting all the sounds of the restaurant fade away.

Even without checking, I felt London’s stare like a brand on my skin, and my breaths came out a little harsher as I plucked away at the guitar. I let all the heartache I’d felt over the past couple of years build and build in each note I struck. Then the heartache crescendoed, and I let it bleed into the lyrics as I belted out the next words.

“Breathing gets harder… The days, they get longer… I try to move on… But the pain grows stronger… I gave you my heart… I wanted forever… I guess even always can crack under pressure…”

I lifted my head, not even bothering to pay attention to the blond guy at the booth anymore, my focus entirely on London. My eyes met London’s over the sea of people and held. His chest was rising with rapid breaths, his mouth slightly parted. I let the melody slow, and softened my voice as I sang, “Oh, I don’t want… I don't want to wake up… Oh, let me… Please let me sleep… At least with my eyes closed… I can pretend… ’Cause at least in my dreams… Forever won’t end…”

London’s Adam’s apple jerked as he swallowed hard, staring at me with so much understanding and love that I struggled to hold his gaze. But as I let the last part of the song slip from my lips, I didn’t look away.

“No, I don’t want… I don't want to wake up… Oh, let me… Please let me sleep… At least with my eyes closed… I can pretend…” My fingers slowed to a crawl, and I took a slow, shaky breath. “’Cause waking again means me facing the truth… That all I have now are these memories of you…”

As the final notes came to a conclusion, I dropped my gaze from London and plastered a smile on my face. I shot that smile at the blond who was still gaping at me with a ruddy face. “Thanks for letting me sing for you. I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much.” I stood, grabbing the microphone and stand. “You boys have a good night.”

Tossing him a wink, I left him and his buddies as they burst into laughter. I scurried over to hand the guitar and microphone back to Escape the Faith, and to my relief, they didn’t look like they understood I’d used my persuasion on them. It was good to see that my powers at least worked on some people. Just not very well on Supers with crazy strong mental powers.

As I left them to start up their own songs, I pulled the dare paper out of my pocket, waving it in victory as I rejoined the team. Lewis was jumping up and down, probably messing up the video it seemed he was trying to take, and Mare’s eyebrows escaped into her hairline.

But while I loved their enthusiasm, my attention was drawn to London. He was biting his bottom lip, looking like he was picturing doing the same thing to my own lip. He studied me with barely controlled longing, and I wondered if I needed to write him more songs in the future.

Jinx slapped me on the shoulder, stealing my attention. He laughed loudly as he urged us back to our table. “Man, that was epic!”

Blade rolled her eyes but even she was grinning as we took our seats.

“Did you really write that?” Mare asked, leaning back again in her chair. Her eyebrows were still comically high on her forehead.

I shrugged. “Yeah.”

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