Page 6 of Bewitched By the Phantom
For the first round, we’re playing our song that had gone a little viral. I’m pretty sure this is the song that got us invited to the competition in the first place. Lace and Lightning is all pure gothic rock anthem, the feeling of being defiant and alive. HellHath Honey has a classic vibe that meshes with our darkwave sound. There’s no mistaking we’re a rock band inspired by the greats, but the four of us have developed a sound we hope starts a trend.
I step onto stage and grab the mic, setting the stand off to the side. I don’t play guitar for this song, so it’s all me singing. As some of the other bands take up seats to watch, I suddenly realize I probably should have worn something different than my sweatpants and a tank top. I didn’t realize so many people would be watching.
“It’s because we were the last-minute addition,” Claudia whispers to me as she shoulders her bass.
It never even dawned on me that we’d be the enigma here because we filled in for the band that dropped out. Shit.
“We’re Hell Hath Honey,” I say into the mic when the girls give me their nods that they’re ready. “And this is ‘Lace and Lightning.’”
We launch into the song we’ve practiced a million times both in borrowed garages and in parking lots when all we had was the van. We did what we had to in order to survive and keep our sound, and I let all of that fuel the song as I start to sing.
I belt out the lyrics, dancing around the stage when I can’t stop myself from feeling the music. That’s what I love about metal. You can’t help but feel it as you sing, as you scream the pain and the defiance. It’s a big middle finger to the world, figuratively.
And sometimes, it’s literal. Like now, when I flick off the crowd. Unlike with the other bands, those watching get out of their seats and start dancing. They don’t freeze like stone. They rock out like they should, and it only hypes me up more until I’m belting full stop.
“It’s lace and lightning!” I scream. “A kiss like a knife. You call it a warning!” I tip down my chin and my eyes catch on themasked man standing off to the side. I hadn’t seen him come in, but he certainly stands there now, watching me, his lips tipped up in a smirk. “I call it life,” I finish the chorus and narrow my eyes, but tip my head back as I scream the last line.
The final notes of Claudia’s bass fade away, leaving me to pant on stage as I tip my head back down, only to find the Cadaver Cantata singer gone. Good. That’s enough of that guy.
“You need another set?” Ted asks and I shake my head. No other band is taking the second set so it would look strange for us to do it. Besides, we can always practice in our room if we need more.
“That was fuckin’ wicked!” Lidia gushes as we step off the stage. “You never sounded so feral, Chris.”
I grin. “Me? What about you on the guitar? Girl, you sounded fucking savage.”
“Fuck yeah, I did,” she beams, fist bumping me.
Laughing, we trickle off the stage, giving room to the next band. The girls go ahead of me, hyped up after that performance, and I glance back at the band going on stage. That’s where I go wrong, because within two beats, I slam face first into something hard.
Oh my god. I’ve just walked into a wall in front of everyone.
“You okay there, angel?” A deep voice asks as hands come up to steady me.
Not a wall. Nope. Not a wall at all.
I look up at the golden-faced mask towering over me with wide eyes, and then immediately shove away from him.
“I’m fine,” I grunt. “Maybe don’t walk in front of people.”
The corner of his lips tick up. “You walked into me, angel.”
I scowl. “Stop calling me ‘angel.’”
His warm chuckle washes over me, and I shouldn’t like it. This is our rival. Probably our stiffest competition. I shouldn’t beenjoying the way his voice sounds or the way his eyes trace my lips.
“Your lyrics were riveting,” he muses, changing the subject. “Very well written.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you being facetious?”
“On the contrary, I’m being honest.” He steps closer and I tense. “I’m also being honest when I tell you that your beauty rivals the graveyard beneath a full moon at the stroke of midnight.”
My lips part in surprise. “Umm . . .” I stupidly say, lost for words.
“I look forward to our rivalry, Christine,” he purrs. He never touches me after the initial steady after our run in, but somehow, his words feel as if they caress my cheek. My lips part and I’m suddenly worried I’m soaking through my panties. How very not hardcore of me.
“Who the fuck are you?” I growl, trying to force down the shiver working its way up my spine.
He chuckles, and that fucking mask only makes it sexier as he looks down into my eyes. He doesn’t answer my question. Instead, he smiles at me, and it’s wholesome and bright despite the very intense vibe his appearance gives.
