Page 3 of Hidden Truths

“Like the hottest singer there is right now,” Blonde Two says to my left.

I’m smiling like a fool at all the compliments, waiting for the other two girls to sing my praises.

“You were kind of pitchy, and your cover of Fortunate Son was subpar at best,” the girl across from me says. My jaw drops. I hear the others gasp and Blonde Three elbows her. “What?” she mutters. “It’s the truth.”

I take her in for the first time. She’s not wearing a dress like the rest of them. She’s smartly dressed in jeans, black boots, and a tight pink sweater. Her red hair is a mess of curls, and hergreen eyes slice right through me. She’d be breathtaking if she hadn’t just insulted me.

“Is that so, sweetheart?” I ask in what I meant to be more of a sarcastic tone, but it comes out gravelly.

“Why did you pick Fortunate Son? It doesn’t have the same sound as everything else you sang,” she asks, seeming genuinely curious.

“It was my grandfather’s favorite song. He died the year before we started the band. My sister, she’s the one on the keyboard —”

She scoffs. “I’m aware of who Bellamy is.”

“Right. Well, to answer your question,” I say, frustration bleeding into my tone, “my sister and I chose that song to honor him.”

Firecracker, because that’s what she is, tilts her head, seeming to look for the truth in my words. She must find them because the side of her lips twitch up in a small smile. Then she turns on her heel and leaves me with Blondes One, Two, and Three.

I barely hear what they’re saying to me. My mind is scrambled by that entire conversation. I mean, I know she was right about my pitch. Even I heard it, but I didn’t think anyone in the crowd of teenagers was going to notice that. I start to growl when I think about her critique of Fortunate Son. That one is too personal —

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Blonde Two interrupts my thoughts. She’s rubbing my chest in a way that she apparently thinks I like. Is that a turn on for guys? I kind of like my nipples played with, but she isn’t doing that. It’s like she’s trying to clean a spot from my shirt.

“Let’s go find somewhere more private, babes,” I say, leading them into some dense trees.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I hear from somewhere to my left. The tree coverage is too thick, and night has fallen, making it hard to see anything other than what’s right in front of your face. “I can’t!”

I know that voice. It’s either Kai or Ezra. Judging from the anger, I’m guessing it’s Kai. The guy has been in a mood since sound check.

“You can’t be fucking serious!” I hear Kai yell. Deciding this is a private chat between him and not me, I lead The Blondes far enough away to give him his privacy.

A rough hand jerks me away from sucking on Blonde Three’s neck.

“What the fuck?” I grumble, coming face to face with Kai.

“Have you seen Ezra? I can’t find him.” The concern in his voice has the anger quickly leaving my system.

“Not since we loaded your car.” I think back for a moment, trying to get the blood from my dick back to my brain. “Actually, he wasn’t there for that. So I guess I haven’t seen him since we played.”

“Fuck,” Kai says, running a hand through his messy curls. “Willa said the same thing.”

“I couldn’t find him in the parking lot or near the picnic tables,” Willa says, as if she was summoned by speaking her name. I jump a little at her appearance out of nowhere and she just laughs at me.

“I’m going to go ask Belle if she knows where he is. Can you guys start looking near the river?” Kai asks, and I grimace. I hate the river. The water is too fast, and it smells kind of gross. Kai doesn’t wait for a response before he goes to find my sister.

“We can go get a group of people to start searching the woods. I have a flashlight in my car,” Blonde Two offers. I forgot they were there and now I kind of feel bad for not learning their names. They seem nice.

“That would be great,” I tell them. They straighten their dresses and head off as a group.

Willa snorts and shakes her head.

“Shut up,” I grumble. “Let’s go look in the river.”

“He better not be in the river. We won’t be able to see him,” Willa says, eyes wide from the implication of my words.

“Shit. I didn’t mean it like that. I just hate the damn thing, but I’ll search near it for Ez.”

I grab my phone from my pocket and turn the flashlight on. The area around us is covered in leaves and red plastic cups. As we make our way toward the sound of the rushing river, the crowd and the scattered cups thin. There’s no sign of Ezra.

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