Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Their conversation pulls me out of my head, and I snap into action. “Ummm, Maxton Huxley at school has an older brother who plays the drums. I think his name is Rock, but he goes to the private school just outside of town.”
“Yeah, alright,” Axel says. “Have you got Maxton’s number?”
I shrug my shoulders. “No, but I can get it.”
“Okay, do that. As for a bass guy, I think I know someone. Dylan Pope. He’s the grade under us, a bit quiet, but I think he’s good.”
“So, it’s settled?” Ezra questions. “We’re doing this?”
A wide grin stretches across Axel’s face. “We’re fucking doing this.”
6
Raleigh
The door flies open and Madds barges into my bedroom with tears streaking down her face. “Rae,” she cries, flipping on the light and blinding me before racing to my bedside.
“Mmmmm. What the hell, Madds?” I groan, positive that it’s got to be at least two or three in the morning. I rub my hand over my eyes and peer up at her to find tears streaming down her face, her phone clutched in her hand as her whole body shakes.
“I . . . I . . . I—”
“Madds,” I rush out, sitting up with her as a strange unease fills my veins. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
She visibly swallows, but the longer she looks at me, the harder her tears flow, and within seconds, she’s uncontrollably sobbing.
“Madds, I swear—”
She holds her phone out to me, and the pity and sadness in her eyes destroy me. “I’m . . . I’m so sorry,” she’s finally able to croak out.
Sorry? What the hell? Why’s she sorry?
My brows furrow, and I avert my gaze to her outstretched hand where her phone lingers between us, and as I take it from her, the unease morphs into dread. It’s the boys. It has to be. Why else would she be handing me her phone?
Dropping my gaze to the phone, I swipe my thumb across the screen, unlocking it to find it already open to a video of a news anchor. I immediately recognize her face. She’s one of the main anchors on the biggest news outlet across the country—the one everyone watches to confirm if the bullshit story they’ve just heard on social media is actually true.
The words BREAKING NEWS are across the bottom, and as I play the video, my hands begin to shake.
The woman—Samantha Hartley—looks directly at the camera, and I put the volume up to hear over the heavy sobbing that Madds can’t seem to get under control. “Wait—” Samantha says, pressing her fingers to the small device in her ear as horror dances across her face. “Are . . . Are you sure?”
There’s a slight commotion off screen and her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” she says, doing what she can to try and regain her professionalism. “We have breaking news coming in—devastating news for fans of Demon’s Curse.”
The screen splits, showing both Samantha in the studio and a picture of Demon’s Curse, the four boys—Ezra, Axel, Rock, and Dylan—at the close of their Australian show.
“Details are only just coming in. However, it has been confirmed that one of the members of the rock sensation, Demon’s Curse, has died.”
My heart stops. Time stops.
My whole fucking world stops.
This can’t be right. This has to be some kind of sick joke.
“As of yet, we have no details to confirm which member has perished or the details surrounding the death. Reports state that during the night, the band arrived safely back in the States after the Australian leg of their world tour. As you can imagine, this is shocking news, and fans everywhere will feel this heavy loss,” Samantha continues, desperately trying to keep her composure. “We will keep you posted as news comes in.”
The video cuts to a montage of the band, and as my hands shake so violently, the phone falls from my fingers and crashes onto my bedsheet. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No. This isn’t happening. It’s a joke, some bullshit social media prank. I would know,” I tell Madds. “I would know if something happened to one of them.”
“Rae,” she whispers, reaching for my arm, but I spring away, grabbing my phone.
“I WOULD KNOW.”
The deepest pity flashes in her eyes as the overwhelming grief infects me like a deadly illness. Surely I would know. If something happened to Ezra or Axel, I would feel it right in the center of my chest. I wouldn’t be able to breathe. My soul would be shattered on the floor.
If something had happened to either of them, surely I would be dead too because I couldn’t possibly survive in a world where they’re not here.
No. This isn’t right.
If Axel was dead, my phone would be ringing non-stop. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the notifications. The police should be calling, fans flooding my social media accounts demanding to know what I know, my friends, the record label . . . Ezra. If this were true, he would have called, but there’s nothing but silence.