Toxic

Chapter Nine

Music is life — maybe that’s why I’d abandoned it for so long. I didn’t feel like I deserved life — not anymore. —Gabe H.

Gabe

I leaned against the wall as the music from the practice room filtered faintly into the hallway.

She was perfect.

Her timing.

The way the notes flowed together.

But I felt nothing.

The moment had finally come, the moment when music no longer made me feel. I wanted to hate her for barging in on me, for correcting me, for being so annoying and pretty at the same time.

For being one of those girls who actually fascinated me.

She’d tasted good. Kissing her had been a giant-assed mistake, because for some reason, I knew her lips were going to haunt me, the way her mouth felt against mine.

The last time I felt something while kissing someone was four years ago and that hadn’t ended well.

Her spunk reminded me of Kiersten.

Great, that’s just what I needed… to lust after my best friends fiancée.

I stayed in the hallway for an hour. I listened as she changed from piece to piece, each one of them perfectly flawless but void of emotion.

For some reason, it made me sad.

Music wasn’t really music unless your soul was exposed, unless your heart was either bursting or breaking.

And hers… was doing neither.

Then again, who was I to judge? I would have used the piano for kindling if she hadn’t barged in on me.

With a sigh, I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. What if. Damn, I hated those two words.

“Are you lost?” A female voice asked.

I opened my eyes, a girl the size of a middle schooler was looking at me like I was the ghost of Christmas past. Her eyes went wide as she looked at my neck and then lower. Yeah, I really didn’t fit the part of Musical Performance major.

“No,” I said curtly, closing my eyes again.

“You look familiar.”

My eyes opened, and then realization seemed to dawn in that smart little head of hers.

“Gotta run.” I pushed away from the wall.

“Wait, has anyone ever told you, that you look a lot like—”

“Adam Levine?” I interrupted. “All the freaking time. See ya.”

Close call, close call. I ran out of the building, pausing only to look at my reflection in the window.

Damn it.

My hair was beginning to lighten again. How had I not noticed that? I was starting to get careless — lazy.

And my entire existence depended on keeping my secret from the world.

I made a mental note to stop off at the drug store and grab some more hair dye.

The guy with the sandy brown hair and smiling eyes was gone — and I’d replaced him with an imposter — a picture of what I felt like on the inside.

Dark.

An empty void.