Run & Hide by Beatrix Hollow

1

The venue was uncomfortable chaos. A thin layer of spilled drinks was half-dried into a tacky sheet on the floor, making my shoes stick with every step.

“Excuse me,” I shouted but the words were swallowed whole by louder sounds. I worked my way through the crowd, trying to politely push myself deeper into the sea of fans. I grimaced as glares continually shot my way. Finally, I made it to a couple of fans who wouldn't budge at all, stonewalling me from moving forward. Great.

The band Nix was too popular for this indoor venue. It felt claustrophobic under the strobing lights and the pulsing mix of wailing fans and screaming guitars. People pressed together tight enough to make breathing difficult. The mass of sweaty bodies was fueled by equal parts excitement and irritation.

I looked around, trying to find an opening. I couldn't stay back here. I'd promised Caspian I'd be here before the band went on but instead, I got waylaid by my mother and aunt trying to give me some kind of strange intervention about my upcoming trip. The idea of me not wanting to go into the family business and temporarily move out of the family house had them acting like I had developed an addiction to hard drugs.

The stage remained an invisible goal behind the swarming crowd. A groan rumbled from my mouth but, of course, couldn’t be heard. The music was so loud I felt the bass in my heart, giving me an arrhythmia. High octane rock that skirted between pop and something grungier. There was a dark heart to the band bleeding through—no catchy chorus could drown it out.

I went sideways, bypassing the people who refused to let me by. Then the singer suddenly stopped mid-chorus.

"Ava!"

My eyes rounded as I heard my name echoed up to the ceilings—a breathless voice coming clear through the speakers. The band kept playing but the singer didn't offer any more lyrics. He was too busy mortifying me.

"Ava, come on!" Caspian chuckled as he helpfully pointed me out for the searching spotlight. I turned towards the stage. The crowd parted like the Red Sea before Moses, as a hundred leering faces ogled my own.

A mangled smile cut into my face as I began to push through the parted sea. People lifted their cell phones to snap a picture in case I was someone important. I wasn't, but Caspian's band was one breath away from epic stardom. Anyone he called out to by name was going to have a camera flash following shortly after. Especially if he paused his entire concert to yell for me.

Or at least, I assumed. I hadn’t actually seen Caspian in years and despite talking with him every day, he gave very little intel about his fame. All I had to go on was what Google coughed up when I searched his band, Nix. There was a staggering amount more about Caspian himself than the band as a whole. Hundreds of fan pages and art dedicated solely to him, the overly charming front runner.

Caspian began singing again as I got closer, his voice rich and energetic. He was lively and his smile was bright, demanding everyone smile along with him. The crowd leaned in closer, their focus quickly diverting back to him. I relaxed as their interest veered off me.

My eyes lifted to Caspian as I pushed my hair behind my ears. He owned the stage, the crowd, the entire building. We were still teenagers the last I saw him but now he was most definitely a man. The youth had left his face, making him look dangerous to anyone prone to heartbreak. He was almost too attractive, too sexual, and now he had tattoos covering his arms that hadn't been there before.

His body was as fit as ever, an etched swimmer’s build with wide shoulders and lean muscles. Considering he only wore dark jeans and a collection of metal necklaces, everyone could look on in awe at a half-naked body fit for an Olympian. Including me. That body left no doubt that he still swam compulsively—he couldn't be comfortable unless he was in the water at least once a day.

He moved on stage like he was in water—fluid, sensual, and hypnotic. His hips rolled, his abs hardened, and his hair kept breaking loose from the bun, long dark waves plastering to his face as his rich voice filled our ears.

This wasn't the boy I'd known throughout high school. This was a rockstar. A man that strangers adored and obsessed over. Everyone wanted Caspian—men, women, the world. They didn't even need more than a snapshot photo to become enamored.

Hands reached out from the crowd, straining, fingers stretching just to feel as if they could touch him if they tried hard enough. The glossy eyes of the entire room were filled with desperation for more of Caspian as if under a spell weaved into his music.

It took till this moment, seeing him on stage with adoration in the eyes of an overwhelming crowd, for me to truly understand how much larger than life he had become.

My ex-stepbrother was a star. Yet, I could still easily remember him following me around at home, teasing me constantly. The dichotomy left me breathless, feeling both comfortable and uncomfortable with the man in front of me.

I stopped ten feet from the stage and Caspian smiled down at me as he sang. There was dark makeup smudged around his eyes. He curled a ringed finger in a come hither, insisting I get even closer. There was nothing to do but what he asked. I’d forgotten the bewitching quality Caspian had. He made everyone want to come in a little closer and soak him in. Made you want to do what he asked. Made you want to please him.

I forgot the crowd was even here screaming, singing, recording, and watching me, as I stepped forward with stunned awe at what he'd become.

When I got to the edge of the stage, Caspian suddenly went to his hands and knees, crawling towards me like a lithe beast—all lean muscle and sensual grace, a wide smile on his face. The crowd screamed in mania. I was shocked. Then he was up on his knees, thighs spread wide right in front of me. Slickened abs and low-slung, tight pants filled my field of vision. He pulled the mic up to his mouth and in this over-packed venue he was suddenly singing only for me, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

That’s when I realized his lyrics were sexual, a plea for an unnamed woman to give him what he craved.

A ripple of shock rolled over me. Caspian and I weren't like that. Our previous semi-familial connection had made the possibility inappropriate. I looked around, saw people recording, and felt like I was being caught doing something wrong. As if our parents were still married, we were still in school, and someone had just caught us being a little too close.

I looked back at Caspian with a glare that made his mouth curl into a smirk of entertainment. Then he felt the need to take the teasing further. He leaned in close, his voice quieter, huskier, and his lips pressed into the mic as if it were a lover. His singing became a desperate plea for a woman to take everything he had—a thinly veiled innuendo that made the crowd roar in excitement.

His fingers came up, a leather cuff on his wrist, his brown eyes smoldering as he touched my lips. I felt my heart stutter in my chest.

Caspian was on his knees on stage, inching forward, leaning down. Everyone watched as he appeared to be begging me to lay myself bare and fuck him. I couldn't look away as his face grew closer. For a moment I became sure he was going to kiss me as he pulled the mic from his face—right in front of the entire packed venue.

My heart thumped so hard in my chest I thought people might see it through my rib cage. The entire room held its collective breath, watching his face inch towards mine.

"Caspian!" Someone yelled, their body brushing mine as they leaned on the stage, invading our space. Caspian was forced to lean back.

The woman tried to climb up but was too drunk or high. Her makeup was running down her face and her eyes couldn't focus. She finally gave up trying to get up. Caspian leaned back and began looking for the closest security.

"I love you," she gasped, her hand driving into her oversized hoodie sweater. A gun came into view, barely clutched in her hand. One gentle knock and she'd fumble it, I thought, but it all happened too fast to act.

She pulled the gun up and my heart lurched, a painful pinch in my chest. She made the barrel kiss her, shoving the tip past her teeth, her fingers shaking and eyes never leaving Caspian. No one seemed to notice yet but me. Even Caspian was looking away, motioning over security.

Someone bumped her, her body spun slightly in place.

A bang went off so loud it boomed above the quiet part of the song. My ears rang high-pitched, disorienting me.

Blood sprayed, sprinkling my face. It splashed over Caspian too, as if someone flicked a well-coated paintbrush over us both. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The body slapped the edge of the stage and flopped to the ground. An unmoving lump of clothes and limbs that I didn't dare to look at.

Everything halted.

There was a pregnant moment of processing before the screams started—a crescendo of fear grating my ears and nerves.

Caspian looked at the edge of the bloody stage in mild disconnect. The same look someone might have when seeing a long line at the coffee shop. It was the wrong expression with someone's blood and fluid coating his face.

His eyes slid to me and I jerked my gaze away, suddenly scared of what I might not see in his eyes. Normal things like alarm and distress. He hadn’t even jerked when the blood slapped his cheek. He hadn't even hesitated to look at whatever carnage the woman had just inflicted on herself.

The swarm of bodies pressed on me and began to drag me back. I reached out to the edge of the stage as a guy kept yelling near my ear, asking over and over what was going on in a panicked shout that put me on edge. Shrill cries and barked shouts were everywhere.

My attempt to grab the stage failed, my fingers slipping from the smooth, wet edge. Blood, I realized. I just swiped my hand through blood. Maybe more than blood.

Suddenly I was surrounded by panicked bodies who felt the need to flee at any cost. The tangy, fermented stench of sweat clogged my nose. Animalistic fear shone in wide, dilated eyes. My gaze darted around as I struggled against the pack and I felt someone's elbow push sharply into my ribs, making me jerk in pain.

This was bad. Panic started to develop under my skin.

A large hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged me back to the stage. I looked up as Caspian encouraged me to get on the stage with him. I crawled up and he quickly wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pressed my head down, into his chest. I clung to his warmth.

A moment later we pushed into a backstage hallway. The sounds were loud behind us, echoing around the walls on either side. Then the door snapped shut and the sounds were muffled. I tugged my head up as Caspian kept walking. He slid his hand down my head until his fingers curled gently around the back of my neck.

Anger made his features look sharp and menacing. He huffed out a frustrated sound and ran his fingers through long strands of his hair, pushing it out of his face. Then he looked down at me and smoothed out his face in an instant, replacing aggravation with concern.

“Are you okay?”

I didn't respond. Half of me still felt like I was in the sea of people, being pushed back and forth like an angry wave about to crash down. Caspian stopped immediately in the middle of the hall, turning towards me, eyes darting around my face and body.

"Are you okay?" He asked again, dark brown eyes dragging me in as he bent closer to my height. I let myself ignore the blood on our faces. I nodded and he nodded back before sighing. His hands rubbed up and down my arms, then he tugged me into him, encasing me in a hug.

My fingers slid over the rippled texture of his abs before my arms wrapped around his naked torso, hugging him back. Finally, I shook off the chaos of the crowd as I soaked in the feeling of him. It had been too long since we were like this--maybe five years now and I’d missed it so much.

An hourand a half later we were finally done with security, cops, and workers. Now the scene almost felt like a dream—a crowd thumping in chaotic energy, a girl shoving a gun in her mouth.

Caspian had made me play Candy Crush on my phone the whole time we dealt with questions and waiting around. Apparently, games helped disrupt potential trauma from being hard-wired in your brain.

“Aren’t you going to play too then?” I had asked, looking up at his long body draped on the chair next to me. He’d slid his arm over my shoulders and smiled, small flecks of blood were still on his jaw that he had missed.

“I’ll be okay,” he’d said.

Now we were in front of a door labeled “band”, where a building worker had left us. Instead of going inside the room, Caspian stood facing me, his thumbs rubbing in circles over my wrists.

"I'm sorry it all went to shit," Caspian said in disappointment. Our height difference was dramatic—six foot five to five foot two.

"It's not your fault."

"I wanted the show to be perfect for you." A frown tugged one side of his mouth. God, he was handsome. That had always been undeniable but now with the air of a grown man, it felt overwhelming. I felt stifled by it, my mind struggling to let me move on.

"You still managed to impress me in the time you had. I’m sorry I was late,” I sighed. “My mom and aunt were trying to talk me out of my trip. They think the travel photography job is suspicious." His eyes slid to mine, a nervous look coming over him. Just then the door beside us opened and the drummer stood there eyeing us through his crumpled neon green mohawk. He raised a pierced eyebrow then looked at me specifically.

"This fucker tell you this was his last show? Bastard is quitting so he can—"

"Enough," Caspian snapped in a rare display of anger that left me with raised eyebrows. It seemed to shock the drummer too, who stood there dumbfounded for a moment before he gave Caspian a slap on the back and a nervous chuckle.

"I don't understand. You're quitting?" I asked, feeling personally offended by the idea. I’d only just seen him on stage but I knew it would be a huge loss.

"It's just a sabbatical," Caspian mumbled. The drummer laughed.

“Sabbatical?” I asked in confusion.

"Ava, right? See, I think what this guy really wants is to get in nature for a while. Maybe go on a nationwide camping trip," the drummer said suggestively. My eyes slid to Caspian. It felt odd his drummer knew not only who I was, but what I was doing for the next year.

"Cas?" My voice held an edge of discontent. His warm eyes went to mine and he smiled.

"I was going to ask you tonight."

"Ask me what?" I countered. The drummer tugged Caspian into the room suddenly. I stepped in after them to see his other bandmates posted around on sofas, nursing drinks. A guitarist, bassist, and keyboardist--all with smeared black eyeliner, tight pants, and purposely shredded shirts. They eyed me closely with a sharp look of curiosity. I got the feeling they all knew who I was, like the drummer had, and felt suddenly uncomfortable.

"Go ahead then. Let's see what she says," the drummer said. He backed away with a smile, leaving Caspian and me in the center of the room. My eyes moved over the other band members. They didn't look entertained or friendly. It made me realize the drummer's smiles and friendliness were likely sarcasm. That he wasn't happy at all.

"I want to go with you this year," Caspian said and my attention jerked back to him.

"What?" I asked in utter confusion. He looked at me with eyes brimming with excitement. He stepped up into my space and I felt uncomfortable because his charm was making my head swim. Plus, the bodily reaction I was having to him made me feel self-conscious. He grabbed my hands, bringing them up between us.

"Ava,” he started, looking like a hopeful puppy. "I'd really love to go with you this year on your trip." I looked around at his bandmates but no one acted like this was a joke. They looked disgruntled and pissed off.

"Aren't you on tour?" I asked.

"Not anymore," Caspian responded. His bandmates visibly stiffened. The drummer barked out a laugh but said nothing. Caspian distracted me from their reaction by tracing his calloused fingers down the side of my face.

When Caspian looked at me, sometimes it felt like I was the only thing he saw. He was so intense sometimes.

"Please, Ava," his voice sounded vaguely similar to when he had been singing, when he was begging some woman to give in—to fuck him—pleading, near desperation. His eyes held mine and I responded the only way I could to Caspian. He was one of the most important people in my life and if he wanted to come with me then it was an easy answer.

"Of course."

He wrapped me in his arms, his entire body surrounding mine, slick, warm skin clinging to me. I slid my arms up his back.

My eyes moved around the room. His bandmates glared—their hatred was a palatable thing that pressed on the base of my spine.

“We'll never be apart again. I promise, ” Caspian murmured but I was too distracted to comment. Death glares were burning into my face.