Nikki Mortemore

  I left fast, my legs moving on autopilot. My chest felt like it was caving in, my breathing too shallow, too quick. I didn’t even notice the rain until it started soaking through my jacket, cold and sharp against my skin.

  "Fuck, rain, that’s what I needed," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. The icy drops helped cool the heat crawling under my skin, the tension in my chest easing just enough for me to think.

  My phone buzzed. I pulled it out with damp fingers, squinting at the screen.

  Mike:"yo, we goin out. u comin?"

  I stared at the message, debating. Should i go or not?

  Obviously not i didn't had mood for Mike and he's shit.

  Another buzz.

  Caytlin:" if i said smth dumb sry. if u want u can hang w/ us."

  Her message stopped me. I stood there in the rain, rereading it. There was something about the way she wrote it ,not pushy, not fake. She actually cared, and I hated how much that mattered.

  I shoved the phone back in my pocket and dug my hands into my jacket, searching for... something. My fingers brushed against the little white pill I’d been saving.

  I pulled it out, staring at it in the dim light of the street lamp. My last one. The hunger had been clawing at me all day, and I couldn’t risk letting it win. Not tonight.

  Without thinking twice, I popped the pill into my mouth, swallowing it dry. The bitter taste lingered on my tongue, but the tension in my chest started to fade.

  I exhaled slowly, the rain mixing with the sweat on my face. My hands were steadier now, though the dull ache inside me never really went away. It was just... quieter.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  My gaze drifted back to Caytlin’s message. Something about the way she reached out made me feel like maybe just maybe .I didn’t have to do this alone. I sighed, typing out a reply.

  "fine. c u."

  I hit send and started walking toward where Caytlin and her group might be. The rain kept falling, but for the first time all day, the chaos in my head felt bearable.

  The bar smelled of stale beer and damp wood, the kind of place that felt both lived in and forgotten. I stepped inside, brushing rain off my jacket and pulling my hood down.

  The first thing I saw was them. Caytlin, of course, standing out like she always did. Blonde hair streaked with pink and green, a My Chemical Romance tank top paired with a red tie, jean shorts over ripped tights and fishnets, her long black Converse propped on the footrest of her chair. She was loud even when she wasn’t saying anything.

  Mike was leaning back lazily, looking like he owned the place. The other girl from band had a pencil in hand, sketching something in a notebook, her focus unbroken even with the noise around her.

  As I walked over, I caught Mike nudge something under the table. A cat bolted out, hissing as it darted away. He hadn’t hurt it just enough to spook it.

  I frowned but kept moving, slipping behind Caytlin. Leaning close, I whispered, “Boo.”

  She jumped, her chair scraping against the floor. “FUCK, Nikki!” she exclaimed, spinning to face me.

  I smirked. “Too easy.”

  She glared for a second before shaking her head. “You’re such a jerk.”

  “And you’re too jumpy,” I shot back, folding my arms.

  Before I could say more, she stepped forward and threw her arms around me, pulling me into a hug.

  The scent of vanilla and cinnamon hit me instantly. Warm, sweet, and completely unexpected.

  I tensed, caught off guard, but quickly relaxed. “What’s this for?”

  “For scaring me, obviously,” she said, pulling back but not far. Her cheeks were faintly pink, though she acted like they weren’t. “And because I felt like it.”

  I laughed softly, shaking my head as I moved to sit beside her. “Fair enough.”

  Mike gave me a lazy salute with his drink. “Finally decided to show up, huh?”

  “Had to think about it,” I replied coolly.

  Caytlin grinned. “Well, you know Mike,” she started, motioning to him.

  “Unfortunately,” I muttered, earning a chuckle from her.

  “This is Skye, our drummer,” she continued, pointing to the girl still sketching.

  Skye looked up briefly, offering me a nod before going back to her drawing. “Hey,” she said, her tone distant but not unfriendly.

  “And Lloyd,” Caytlin added, motioning to the guy beside Skye. “He’s our guitarist and knows sign language.”

  Lloyd gave me a small wave, signing something quickly.

  Caytlin laughed. “He says you’re probably cooler than Mike.”

  I smirked. “I don’t even have to try.”

  “And over there,” Caytlin said, nodding toward the bar, “is my brother, Tyler. But you already know that, right?”

  I glanced toward the bar. Tyler was drying a glass, his expression the same sarcastic smirk I’d seen earlier that day.

  “Yeah,” I said, leaning back. “We’ve met.”

  “Still not scared off?” Tyler called over, raising a brow.

  “Not even close,” I replied, smirking back.

  He chuckled, shaking his head as Caytlin pulled me back into the conversation.

  For a moment, our hands brushed as she reached for her drink. She didn’t move away, but I felt the faintest tension in the air. A quiet chemistry neither of us acknowledged but couldn’t ignore.

  The hunger inside me stirred briefly, but I swallowed it down. Tonight, I could manage.