Page 23 of Severance

As Mikah leaves, I sense a shift in the air between them. Awkward tension maybe or perhaps it’s something else?

“Don’t pay attention to him. He doesn’t like people much,” Dakota explains, laughing.

“Okay.” I shake off the unsettling feeling and try not to let the odd encounter with his brother get to me.

* * *

The lights dim and a wave of excited whispers rush through the club. Jess grabs my hand and pulls me toward the stage. Luke got us spots at the mixing board area, but Jess insists on getting the full rock’n’roll experience. According to her, watching a show from the sidelines is a waste of a good time. She gets high on being in the middle of the chaos. Sometimes I think that for her, rubbing against sweaty people is like crack is for junkies. I don’t try to stop her. We get as close to the front rows as the rabid fans let us. There are a lot of girls our age in the crowd, which, for some reason, ignites a tiny spark of jealousy in me.

Dakota’s band may be a bit more popular than I thought.

Jess finds us a spot that’s free of obstructions and we wait for the set to begin. Anticipation fills every part of me as I gaze up to the stage and drink in the shimmering dark. When Luke’s silhouette lingers beside the mountain of amplifiers, everyone cheers. He walks over to his drum kit and sends a few tipsy smiles to the girls propped against the edge of the stage. There’s no pit here tonight like during the Black Rose show. The setting’s more intimate. I suspect the lack of massive props is because Midnight Rust isn’t a headliner, but I can tell a lot of people came specifically to see Dakota, because half the audience is wearing his band’s merch and the other half is sporting Eclectic Blue t-shirts.

My heart gallops as people push from behind to get closer to the music the moment the rest of the band comes out on stage.

Dakota looks so collected, as if he were born for this. His hooded glance flutters over the crowd as he moves to the beat in front of the microphone. He doesn’t move a lot, just enough to get the audience going. Every word and every smile has a purpose. He strums the chords on his guitar slowly and gracefully, letting the haunting melody float through the club as the clouds of white fog that trickle across the stage grow thicker and begin to spill into the crowd.

I watch him with sick fascination as his words slowly ravage my walls. He’s exactly the kind of guy my father has always warned me about. Sinfully beautiful and addictive. His deep voice burns and tingles inside my chest like a fireball, and I find it hard to contain my emotions. I avoid looking at Mikah at all costs, but my eyes betray me during his guitar solo. He’s not one of those show-off players who likes to get creative or draw attention to his portion of the song. He’s modest in his presence. I can’t quite read his body language, but his face says it all. He runs through the riff effortlessly with his eyes closed and his head tossed back.

My chest expands from the onslaught of sounds, and I tear my gaze away from his hands to look at Dakota again.

Together, they’re psychedelic.

* * *

I’m standing in the middle of the alley, watching the guys load up the last of their gear and waiting for Jess to come out.

The tips of my nose and fingers are frozen solid, and the mist that’s falling over the city feels cold and miserable against my face.

Dakota rounds the van, says something to Luke, and heads over to me. His hair’s still damp and he blows hot air into his fist to get his hands warm. “Did you like the show?” His eyes search mine.

Likeis an understatement. I’ve never seen a band like Midnight Rust before. I’ve never thought songs about death could be this beautiful. I have questions. Tons of them. I want to know why Dakota’s so obsessed with such dark subject matter, and I want to know how he and Mikah write music together and what their process is like. But I realize asking about his brother might be a bit out of left field. That’s why I push those thoughts back.

“I loved it,” I say dreamily, rubbing my palms together. My inner fangirl is going crazy right now.

“Do you want to go see a movie sometime?”

His question makes everything inside me quake. Not counting the pre-show dressing room small talk and non-stop text messaging, we barely know each other. Without a doubt, my father’s going to say no to this, but that doesn’t make me want to tell Dakota yes any less.

I inhale sharply and the cold air stings my lungs as my mind goes through all one hundred and ten scenarios of how to avoid a lengthy conversation about boys and their intentions with my father.

“I’ll let you pick the movie?” Dakota tilts his head, his eyes pretty much pleading with me. They’re devastatingly beautiful and expressive and hard to resist. In the corner of his left one, there’s still a tiny black smudge of eyeliner that he was probably in too much of a hurry to remove, and I want to reach out and wipe it off.

“Sure.” I nod, my hands clutched into a ball in front of my chest. “I’ll go.”

“Awesome.” The grin that spreads across his lips gives me goose bumps. I just saw a whole lot of girls throwing themselves at him during the show and he chooses to askmeout.

“Hey, DK!” Mikah’s gravelly voice comes at us from the van. “Are you done?”

Whistles echo across the alley.

Dakota glances over his shoulder. “I have to go. I’ll text you later?”

“Okay.” My mind is reeling and my heart’s in total overdrive.What have you gotten yourself into, Alana?

I have to remind myself to breathe as I watch him rush back to the van. The sound of his boots thudding against the frozen pavement pounds in my ears until the roar of the engine cuts it off.

After Jess drops me off at home and I’ve taken a shower and added a few more photos of Christmas cupcakes to my Pinterest board, I find myself going to the Midnight Rust website again.

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