Page 241 of Haunt Me

The crowd goes completely silent. Watching. Waiting. For us to start.

…

I’m losing to my brother in front of seventy thousand people. I’m losing the duel.

I knew I would; that’s why I didn’t want to do it in the first place. But my brother is seriously giving it his all. I didn’t expect him to try half as much. He knows he has me. He knows all he hasto do is lift a single finger and touch that violin, and he will steal the soul of every single person in this stadium.

Yet here he is, sweating, concentrating, playing his ass off, while I struggle to keep up on my guitar. We are playing a rendition ofSaint Hope, but it’s not fair, because he keeps composing new melodies on the spot, and I am scrambling to follow his lead. He is literally running circles around me as we play, he and his violin, both of them on fire, high on music.

At one point, we stand back to back, each fighting for his life.At least, he can’t see me, I think.He can’t see that I’m drowning.

The concert has turned into an arena, people rooting for either my brother or me to win, roars of our names going up in waves as he hits the hardest notes, and boos when I hit the wrong ones.

I am going to be humiliated in front of literally all of my fans.There is no salvaging this. I never stood a chance; he has them eating out of the palm of his hand. He has me.

The Pan brothers making fools of themselves in front of a packed stadium. Mom will be ever so proud.

I stare blindly into the crowd, trying to concentrate, but I can’t magically make my brain match James’ genius. He, meanwhile, is having the time of his life. He weaves his violin’s demonic magic around my guitar’s melody as if he is inventing music in front of my eyes. I’m about to throw in the towel, and let him play his little heart out by himself—I doubt he’ll notice that he’s playing alone anyway.

And then, up in the VIP section, something catches my eye.

A flash of red curls in a stray ray of the travelling spotlight. No, it can’t be.

Eden.

She is sitting on the shoulders of a man—I think it’s Justin. Manuela is dancing next to them. Eden is absolutely still, but her eyes are on me. She is wearing my jacket, the one I left behind in my hurry to leave her dorm in February. It’s swallowing her whole.

I can’t be sure it’s her from this distance, especially since the light is beginning to shift away from them. But as long as it’s there, I stare at the three people in those high seats, and I imagine it’s them.

My family, I think before I can help myself.

It’s not my family, though, is it? Nor is this my girl.

It’s Eden andherfamily. But right now, I’m imagining it’s my family too. The music, the crowds, my stupid, brilliant brother, everything falls away as I close my eyes and imagine that somehow, magically, she is here for me. I imagine she has forgiven me for theinterview. I imagine she doesn’t care that people might see her—that she is standing tall and proud, perched on Justin’s shoulders just for me, and who cares about the consequences.

I imagine that she thinks I’m worth it all.

“Zay!” James is screaming into my ear.

I turn to him abruptly, yanked out of my daydream. He’s stopped playing. I have too.

“What?” I murmur, blinking, suddenly blinded by the lights.

“You won,” James says, sounding extremely shocked. “You won the duel.”

The crowds are standing up, chanting my name. James executes a perfect bow, and claps for me. Then he steps towards me and lowers his head to my ear.

“Listen to me,” he says through fake smiling teeth. “I need you to tell me what you’re on.”

“What am I on?” I ask, still stupefied.

Wait, I won the duel? What the hell did I play? My mind—and my eyes—were on Eden the whole time. I was barely aware of what I was doing. Well, not real Eden, of course. Imaginary Eden.

“Are you on some kind of substance?” James asks me, worry etched on his face. He’s ignoring the crowds completely. “Pills?”

“They will be reading your lips all over the Internet by tonight,” I murmur to him with my mouth closed. “Shut. Up.”

He’s grabbed a fistful of my shirt, and is leaning down until our faces are inches apart. The crowd roars; they probably think we’re doing a bit.

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