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not paying attention to any of them.

In fact, all his attention is on his bottle.

The same one as yesterday. The liquor that looks like water, vodka.

Even though he’s focusing on the alcohol, I’m still jealous of all the girls around him. I’m still jealous that they’re trying to get his attention like they always do.

I want his attention.

I just don’t know how to get it.

I’m too afraid to walk up to him.

I’m too afraid to ask him.

I’m too afraid...

Come on, Callie. Do it.

That’s what you came here for, right?

Right.

That’s why I abandoned my show and came to this place.

This place outside of my town where this strange party is happening and Reed is in attendance.

After Con told me to go back to the show, Tempest found me again. She dragged me away from the crowd and took me to a quiet place, away from the stadium.

Away from all the people, from all the violence.

Even she knew I couldn’t dance like this.

She stayed with me as I cried and shook.

As my whole body was wracked with waves and waves of chills.

She stayed with me as I ran through a thousand different scenarios in my head. As I went over what I saw and what Con told me and what I know.

What I know in my heart about Reed.

About my Roman.

I’m not sure how long I stayed like that, huddled into myself with Tempest rubbing my back and my arms.

All I know is that when I could gather my strength, I asked her to find him.

I asked her to take me to him.

And despite vehemently disagreeing with it at first and saying that I needed to go home and take care of myself, she brought me here.

She said that she saw it on social media. Someone had tagged Reed on Instagram, saying that he was at a party outside of Bardstown.

So that’s where I am, at a party, watching the guy I’m in love with chugging down vodka, surrounded by a drunk crowd.

I try to make myself move.

I try to make myself call out his name, wave at him, do something to catch his attention. But I’m just frozen in my spot, too scared to move.

A second later though, I don’t have to.

Because as always, he senses me.

He looks up from the bottle and his eyes land on me instantly and they start to glow.

His wolf eyes.

They sparkle as he stands up from the couch and starts walking toward me, leaving everything behind.

The crowd parts for him as he approaches me, his gaze growing heavier and more intense with every step he takes.

The moment he reaches me and stops, I realize that he’s wearing all black.

I don’t know why that’s important.

I don’t know why I’m thinking about his black t-shirt paired with dark jeans. I don’t know why I find his black leather jacket intimidating and dangerous, but I do.

I’m thinking about how all this darkness makes his vampire skin come alive.

How his bruises, old and new, come alive as well.

How he’s too beautiful for words.

Too otherworldly. Too gorgeous.

He looks down at me with a strange kind of tenderness as he takes in my costume, my make-up that’s ruined now, and my blonde hair twisted into a bun, which again is ruined, strands hanging around my face in tatters.

But the way his eyes melt at the sight of me makes me think that I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

It makes me think that I’m too beautiful for words. Too otherworldly. Too gorgeous.

“Fae,” he whispers roughly, drunkenly. “You’re here.”

“Roman –”

“You look like a fairy,” he says over me, bringing his hand up and tracing a finger down my cheek.

My mouth parts at his touch and the world disappears.

And I think, you look like a villain.

That’s what he looks like, isn’t it?

Dressed in black and dark bruises, the guy I’m in love with looks like a villain.

“Are you drunk?” I ask instead.

He looks down at the bottle in his hand. “A little.”

I swallow painfully. Thickly.

Fearfully.

“I won,” he says then, his busted lips stretching up in a smile.

A smile that looks so misplaced, so boyish and adorable on his sharp, villainous face.

“You –”

“I fucking won the game, Fae. I won. I’m the goddamn champion. Did you see?”

My eyes sting as I nod.

“You did, huh? I was pretty badass out there.” Chuckling, he takes a sip of his vodka. “More than your fucking brother.”

“What –”

“Hey, what about your show?” he asks, speaking over me again. “Fuck, did I miss it?”

“I don’t care about the show. I –”

“If after all that practice, I missed your first-class, fantastic show, then I’m an asshole. I’m a motherfucking asshole. You should be mad at me. Here.” He waves his free hand. “Hit me. Slap me in the face, Fae. Slap me in the fucking face –”

“No, Roman, listen to me.” I speak over him, putting an end to his drunken rambling. “What happened?”

He appears perplexed. “When?”

I shake my head. “On the field. What happened?” I swallow again. “God, look at you. You’re all banged up. What happened, Roman?”

He chuckles. “You should see the other guy.”

“What did you say to him?”

“What did I say to whom?”

I fist my hands for a second, trying to keep my wits about me. Then, “Roman, please, okay? Can you focus for a second? Just… please. What did you say to my brother? What did you say to Ledger? Why did he… Why did he punch you? Why did you guys fight?”

I’m not sure if he’s getting the gravity of the situation because his reaction is pretty casual.

His reaction is to squint his eyes slightly and shrug. “Ah, that. The fight.”

“What happened, Roman?”

He takes a gulp of his vodka, swallowing loudly. “Yeah, I might have mentioned something.”

My heart thuds. “W-what?”

He shrugs again. “I might’ve said something about me giving you a ride in my Mustang. About you loving it and fogging up my windows.” A frown. “Not in those words though. I was dirtier than that but you know what I mean.”

“Y-you

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