Page 13 of Doesn't Count

No one answers. If this is some sort of messed up game they’re playing, I’m going to be pissed. I decide to check thestalls kicking in the doors one by one. By the third stall, I find a shirtless guy sitting in the hay, his back leaning against the wall farthest from the door. He startles, amber eyes finding mine as he rips his headphones off, resting them around his neck. Quickly, he shuts the notebook he was writing in and climbs to his feet, towering over me.

“Can I help you?” He snips from beneath a black bandana that covers the lower half of his face, similar to Kokytos.

I stammer, stunned, and paralyzed by his overbearing presence. The stall isn’t big, and his proximity is suffocating, trapping my words inside of me.

“I-I-”

“You what? Spit it out.” He growls, tossing the notebook at his feet before stepping forward.

“He told me to come in here, that I should speak to you.” I push past my lips.

My breath feels unsteady as my heart races, my thoughts all jumbling together, which hardly ever happens.

“What do you want?” Another step forward.

“I-I-” I swallow. “Ashton Crawford with Musical Genius.”

There’s a sudden shift in his posture, his once crowding body now straighter. It makes him feel even taller. He takes half a step back before squinting down at me. His thick eyebrows dipping in what looks like anger. He sweeps his dark brown hair out of his eyes to get a better look at me. I watch them trail over my features as if he’s inspecting me.

“Get out.” He growls.

My jaw drops, shocked by his abrasiveness. He steps into me, forcing me out of the stall and into the middle of the barn. I just stand there as he yanks a black T-shirt that was tucked into his back pocket and slips it over his head.

“Did I stutter?” He shouts, those glowing eyes piercing me.

“I’m not leaving.” I assert quietly.

“I don’t think you have a choice.” He snarls.

I watch him clench his muscles; anger evident in the way they twitch beneath his skin. I don’t know what I did to piss him off already, but this is uncalled for. I know celebrities can sometimes be dickish, especially if you interrupt their process, but he’s a nobody. He hasn’t earned that right yet.

“What’s your problem?” I snap, finally finding my voice.

Khaos has a dark presence that leaves you blind, but I see right through it. I’m hardly ever star struck and he’s no star. However, he is big, angry, and inching towards me like a predator hunting its prey.

“My problem is you.” He answers as his shadow envelops me, ready to devour my soul.

“You don’t even know me.” I point out the obvious.

He looks me over again, a glint of disgust reflecting in his eyes.

“I know a lot of things about you Ashton, but unfortunately for you, you know nothing about me.” His words slither out like a threat.

“Well, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” I laugh uncomfortably. “And what exactly do you know about me?”

“Enough to know you can’t handle us.”

“We’ll see about that.” I smirk.

His chest inflates as he huffs out a curt laugh, his abs brushing against my forearms that are tightly crossed and holding me together. He withdraws just enough for his eyes to find mine and when they do, they send icicles down my body despite this awful heat.

“I doubt that. I don’t want you here.” He mutters.

“You signed up for this! I flew out from Chicago to be here. To follow your band and get to know you guys. You haven’t even given me a full ten minutes!” I ignore his comment, my rage slowly bubbling to the surface.

This isn’t exactly the artist I wanted as an assignment, but I’m freaking here already! In the middle of nowhere Arkansas, in an abandoned barn, with a tool that’s unnecessarily broody.

I take a deep breath, trying not to lose it on this guy.

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