Page 77 of Pretty Black

Ilearned to accept my fate in little increments of good. Take all I could from him, even if I’d never get any more. What else did I have?

I’d always measured not only time but our career in birthdays. I turned seventeen, and we left for our first tour. Now twenty-two had come and gone, and we were two records deep with a lot of awards to show for it. We’d toured all over the world. We’d had a dream career, and now we were in limbo.

Days came and went, and nothing happened.

Alexander was silent.

And since the legal case dragged, we were left waiting.

Our record company moved forward with the release, but even that was posturing. As long as Alexander tied up the marketing and promotion, they couldn’t do much of anything either. We had to wait for the case to move.

Time stood still.

The days grow cooler and I grow further from myself.

The city changed colors while I retreated

Musing about the morality of man.

A study in the depths of our darkest desires.

What were we if not our worst moments distilled down to pieces put on public display for consumption?

I wrote but with no direction. No cohesion. Drifting through life like the leaves falling from trees.

Caspian walked in with a conspiratorial smile on his face.“Come on, we have plans today. Don’t you remember?”

I glanced up from my notebook, putting my pencil between my teeth. “What?” I searched my memory, trying to remember planning anything. “I don’t remember…”

“Did you forget it’s my birthday?”

“In two days! I’m not falling for that one again.” I smiled, pushing to my feet. “Are you acting like it’s our anniversary?”

“Isn’t it?” He grabbed my shirt, dragging my body to his. “And we have plans.”

“What did you do?” I didn’t want to go out, but it was like nine in the morning. I couldn’t imagine that’s what he had planned.

“I’m not telling you.” He drew me by the shirt to his room, not stopping until we got to the closet where a suit bag hung.

My face hurt from the smile he’d given me.

Like he was giving us a new beginning, recreating all my favorite moments of us.

Caspian became romantic so effortlessly. Like it was his natural inclination.

“I don’t think I could love you more than I do in this moment.”

“Just wait until you see where we’re going.” He slowly unzipped the suit bag. “And you can’t tell me no. It’s going to be my birthday.”

He pulled out black skinny jeans. A new pair. I needed them; I think my others were beyond saving. “Can’t stray too far from the comfort jeans.” Next, he picked up a box with the familiar Con label on the side. He opened it to reveal the most exquisitely hand painted high tops I’d ever seen. But they weren’t just any new designs—they were our tattoos. All the ones we had that went together, made into a work of art. The symbols of us.

“I can’t wear those! I’ll ruin them.” I took them out of his hands, turning them around to see the full view. “These are…spectacular. Thank you.” They weren’t just our coordinating tattoos either. The tattoos we had that went together were next to each other. The second I wore them in public, they’d confirm so many fan theories. “These are pointed.”

“No, not pointed but also not hiding.”

We hadn’t put out a statement since the forehead kiss photo. We’d decided we’d done enough to provoke Alexander for the time being and wanted it to die down.

“What if I ruin them?!” I glanced between him and the shoes again.

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