Page 76 of Never Say Die
“I know, I know.” She wrinkled her nose. “Let’s get this shit started, yeah?”
Aiden plucked at guitar strings. Their introduction played over the speakers. Shay sipped his beer and gripped the mic, and the band ran through Never Say Die, launched into Reign, Fallen Throne, Shelob, See Through Fire, Rise, an entire set linked with songs they'd loved and perfected. They paused halfway through rehearsal to playfully argue about encore options. After a brutal game of rock, paper, scissors, Shay insisted on an acoustic version of Glory.
"Should we give any of the new material a go? I know we're still working, but it might be a nice tease?" Georgia asked.
Shay tipped his head back and forth, considering. "I don't know. I think we should stick with what we've got for now. Wait until we're finished with the album before we debut anything else."
“I agree,” Dylan said. He finished his beer and poured another. “We’ll close out this tour with our current set-list and book another round once we drop the album, right? People know we have new shit in the works, we sold out tomorrow’s show in, like, a week, and Never Say Die is in the top ten on Rock Nation, Octane, and iTunes. Not to jinx us, but we’re killin’ it.”
“Yeah, I mean, I’mnota patient person, but I bet Jacob’ll say the same thing,” Georgia said. She mock-pouted. “Guess I’m jumping the gun, huh?”
“We need to give people enough time to hear about us, get to know us, and want more from us,” Shay said.
Aiden nodded. “I think we should switch the opener and closer for our next. . .” His voice faltered, snuffed out by woozy heat. He planted his feet. Inhaled through his nose.Don’t pass out. White spots clouded his vision. Then searing jabs erupted, landing on his stomach, hips, chest. Hot saliva filled his mouth. He stumbled, ripped his guitar away, and set it down before he lost his balance.
“Aiden?” Georgia dropped her drumsticks. They clattered, pinging and bouncing, and Aiden winced at the sound. Her hands landed on his face, startling him. “What the hell? You’re burning, honey. Like,burning.”
His mouth turned cottony and useless. He made pathetic attempts to grab onto her.Someone is stabbing me, he wanted to say.I’m hurt, I’m hurt, I’m hurt.No blood dampened his clothes, no wound opened on his torso, but he felt something hard and small digging into him. Fingernails deep in his skin. Flesh breaking under his molars. He squeezed his eyes shut and re-opened them. Gasped and fell, smacking his tailbone on the stage, tearing away from the gaping crimson wound where Georgia’s throat should’ve been.
Shay dropped to his knees beside him. “Aiden, hey. We’re right here. You’re safe, you’re fine. What’s happening?”
Dylan pressed a cool, empty glass to the back of his neck. “No judgement, man. But what’d you take?”
“He didn’t take anything,” Shay said. A moment passed, clipped in half by a snarl. “I’m serious. I was with him all day. He didn’t take anything, Dylan.”
Dylan sighed. “Not to be a dick about it, but. . .”
Speak, you idiot.Aiden sucked in air.Talk. “I didn’t take shit,” he said, and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his forehead in the groove where his kneecaps met. “I. . . I think it’s a cyst.”Say more.“I’ll be fine, just give me a sec.”
Georgia made a patient, unpleasant noise. “Oh, ouch. . .”
Aiden swallowed another mouthful of watery spit. Ovarian cysts had plagued him for years, but he hadn’t dealt with them in a long while. For once, he wished a cysthadknocked him on his ass. “Yeah,ouchis one way to put it.”
“Hey, can we get some water?” Dylan called, flagging a loitering light technician. He flicked through his phone. “So, Google says if you’ve got a fever it’s doctor time.”
“I’ll befine,” Aiden said. Pain rippled again, just beneath his solar plexus. “Let me just. . . Just cool down, okay? I’ll be right back. Shay, can you. . . ?”
Shay took his arm and hoisted him to his feet. “I’ve got him,” he said to Georgia, and curled his arm around Aiden’s waist, guiding him to the private bathroom next to the green room. Once the door was locked behind them, he took Aiden’s chin, steering his face. “Is it actually a cyst?”
“No,” he said, and lifted his shirt.
Reddened crescents littered his torso. Welts slashed his stomach, printed onto his brown skin by invisible hands. A curved mark bled into the fading bruise on his ribs and sliced through a spotted hickey on his hipbone. He glanced from his reflection to his belly, resting a shaky hand over four raised marks, pricked faintly with blood.
“Qué mierda,” Aiden whimpered. He met Shay’s eyes, turned back toward his scratched-to-hell body, whipped his face upward again. “I can taste…” He tongued at his teeth. “Blood—I tasteblood, Shay. And something else. Perfume? Like, l-lotion, maybe? Jesus Christ. What the fuck is going on?” He hated sounding scared. Hatedbeingscared. But his eyes watered, andhe breathed too fast, disheveled and unhinged. He smacked the handle on the sink.
“I don’t. . .” Shay shook his head. “I don’t know.”
He scooped water into his mouth, swished, spat, then splashed his face. “I’m losing my goddamn mind,” he whispered. He stared at his reflection and snatched his rosary, rolling the garnet beads in his closed fist. “I’m. . . We’re. . . We’re here, right? I’m awake? We’re awake?”
Shay took his wrist and gripped. “You’re awake, Aiden,” he said, like he would to a frightened cat. “I’m here, you’re here, we’re at rehearsal—we’re awake.”
Aiden nodded. Kept nodding. “Yeah, okay. Okay.”Am I really?He glanced at Shay, at his parted lips and sad, knitted brows, and swallowed thickly. “When you came back, did you feel me?”
“Aiden—”
“Did you?”
“No, I didn’tfeelanything. I wanted answers. I wanted to find you, okay? I needed to find you.”
