Page 25 of Feral Touch
“You're good. You're really good.”
I looked up. Ren's eyes were shining with something almost like pride. “You think so?”
“Ivy, anyone who knows anything about music can tell how good you are.”
I’d always had confidence in my abilities. I’d heard it from my professors and fellow students that I was good, but it felt different coming from Ren. It felt more real, like I had the opinion of somebody who really mattered.
“So I guess I can give you a little slack for looking down on lowly rock bands.”
I groaned. “I'm never going to hear the end of it, am I?”
“Nope.” Ren grinned.
I heard a loud gasp and a high-pitched squeal from a few yards away.
“Oh my god, it’s Ren Sada! That’s Ren, isn’t it?”
“What? No way! Wait, holy shit, you’re right.”
“Ren!”
A group of girls rushed our table, stars in their eyes.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’ve loved Feral Silence forever and I’ve been to all your concerts and I bought your CDs even though I also bought the MP3s and would you mind if I took a picture with you?” A cute young girl with a short blond bob spoke the words in one breath, holding out her phone. The girls pushed and shoved each other, fighting to get as close to him as possible. They ignored me, as if I was a piece of furniture.
Ren gave me an apologetic smile, mouthingsorry,and stood up to greet them. “Of course I’ll take pictures. Thank you so much for your support. It means a lot to us.”
That standard response the guys probably gave to all their fans.
“I love Feral Silence, too. You’re my favorite member!” another girl piped up.
“I’m learning how to play bass guitar just like you!”
“I saw your last concert, you were so awesome!”
I could practically hear the exclamation marks at the end of every sentence.
Ren chatted with the girls, taking pictures and signing autographs. I thought it would be over after a minute or two, but they kept on asking questions and he continued to speak with them. His coffee was probably getting cold.
I examined the girls. They were all very pretty. The girl with the bob had gorgeous blue eyes and full pouty lips. Another girl was tall and skinny with rich brown skin, smooth and flawless. Another had bright red hair clearly from a bottle, but it looked great with her green eyes and pale skin. Every one of them was dressed head to toe in color-coordinated outfits—skinny jeans, knee high boots and fashionable tops.
I thought about my own boring hair, dirty blond and straggly. My eyes were ostensibly blue, but they more often than not looked dingy grey. I’d worn a plain blue dress with tights. Nothing special.
I hated feeling this way. I was never the cool kid or the fashion-forward kid and I didn’t have boys banging on my door, but none of that had ever bothered me before. I knew what I was good at. I knew my place. I wouldn’t pretend I was someone I wasn’t. If my self-esteem wasn't the highest, at least I never felt bad for being who I was.
But seeing Ren surrounded by all those beautiful girls made me sick inside. I kept on forgetting whohewas.
Ren was a rock star, famous and talented and sexy with hordes of girls throwing themselves at him. He was amazing.
I was just some mousy little music geek struggling to pay her bills.
It might have been different if he’d never left. We could have gotten to know each other more, could have dated like normal teenagers. Maybe it would have turned into something serious. That was impossible now.
I stood up, waiting to see if Ren would notice. He didn’t. I grabbed my purse and my jacket and left the coffee shop. I wondered if the jingling noise of the door opening would get his attention, so I turned back one last time. He was still engrossed in his conversion, laughing and smiling and touching the girls' arms and clasping their hands.
I shouldn’t have forgotten what he was.
Ren was someone important.
