Page 50 of Erik

Believing in nothing except my next high

Until the moment I found mercy

A redheaded angel came to me

Her heart of gold offering the key

Her fingers strum the strings, she meets my eyes. I hold her stare and step to the mic to sing the verses I wrote a few weeks ago.

To redemption from my mortal sins

I blew my chances, clipped her wings

Threw salvation to the wind

I pushed her away, I crossed all lines

To learn that without her no stars shine

My ears ring with the adrenaline rush when I kneel in front of the stool, gazing into her wide-eyed expression. She presses the guitar against her chest. The crowd gasps and murmurs.

I pull a ring off my pinky, cradle her hand in mine, and take the plunge. All I stand to lose is my heart. “Christine, I don’t deserve you, but I love you. Will you be my wife?”

She slides the mask off my face, tossing it over her shoulder. “I love you, too.”

“I promise I’ll get you a proper engagement ring.”

“I don't want another. This is perfect like you.”

The hollers from the audience fade to nothing when she frames my face and kisses me. I lace my arms around her waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. I’ve missed her touch more than I’d imagined.

“Thought you liked flawed,” I whisper, hiding my face in her hair.

“I love your flawed exterior and your perfect soul.”

19

Christine

With an arm draped around my neck and a firm hold on my shoulder, Erik guides me out of the elevator onto the hall on the twentieth floor, with the other members of Muse of Darkness at our heels. Whistling, Nick calls, “Hey, you guys. Try not to be too loud, will you? My room is next door and I’m a very light sleeper.”

Erik cackles, and flips his friend the bird, without looking back. “Fuck you. Goodnight.” To me, he adds, “He could sleep under an airplane engine at full blast without stirring a muscle.”

After closing the door, he kisses me, walking us toward the bedroom, but he stalls when we reach the middle of the living room.

I step back, furrowing my brow. His haunted stare breaks my heart. It claws inside me wanting to fly to him.

“I owe you, my story.” He drops his perfect butt on the gray plush sofa that holds four people and smooths the cushion beside him. When I accept his invitation, he rubs his left arm over the tuxedo sleeve for a couple of beats. “We’ve got to have this conversation before we reach a point where there’s no return.”

I squeeze his arm. “I also need to tell you so much, but I’d hoped to do that later.”

His lopsided smile and the fire in his chocolate eyes take my breath away. “Don’t tempt me.” He chuckles, before sobering up. “You've decided to accept me now, but I need to be sure you won't have second thoughts.”

I shake my head, getting the heavy wig off-kilter. I remove it, assuring him, “No second thoughts, no glancing back for me.” I peer into his eyes, wearing my heart on my sleeve. “I knew all I needed before I made my decision. That your heart and soul are whole, perfect.”

He smooches my cheek. “Before you can freely promise me we’ll share one love until we die, I need to show you exactly what you’ll have before your eyes for the rest of your life.”

I knit my eyebrows as he discards the tuxedo jacket, the white bowtie, and matching dress shirt. I curl my fingers into fists not to splay them on the grooves his six-pack creates on his ample chest.

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