Page 24 of Ravaged For You

Sweat pours off my brow as the song comes to an end. The last drum beat from Caspian echoes behind me, and I close my eyes as the crowd applauds ecstatically in approval. I soak in the sound. The applause is as sweet as it was the first time I heard it, at Ravaged’s first ever gig all those years ago back in Crystal River.

God, this is always my favorite moment.

We all salute the audience before we head off the stage. I raise my fingers to my lips and blow a kiss into the crowd. I think I see a few girls in the front row visibly swoon. That makes my dick hard.

I follow the rest of the band as we jump backstage. Immediately, Drake turns around and his eyes scan up and down my topless torso.

“Lost another shirt, have we?” he asks me sarcastically. I grin in response. Some crewmember for the arena guides us down some hallway back to our dressing room.

“I can’t help it if I throw them in the crowd, can I? The girls love it.”

“It’s the only way Axel can get laid,” Bishop juts in as we enter the dressing room. I give him a dirty look.

“You should’ve seen the girl who caught it,” I say. “A real emo girl. Black hair. Black eyeliner. Full of sass.”

“Your type, then?” Bishop asks as he slings his guitar off from around his shoulder. With a relaxed grunt, Caspian collapses onto the sofa. He’s exhausted.

We all look a sight. Sweat pours off us, but we still smell amazing. My hands are tired from playing my bass all night, but in that good, worked-hard kind of way. I grab a hanging sweat towel and use it to dry my wet hair.

My body feels tight. I’ve worked hard tonight. My muscles ache and I relish the rush of accomplishment that surges through me. I made the crowd reach musical nirvana tonight with just the use of my talented fingers.

This is the greatest fucking job in the world.

“That girl licked her lips when she caught my shirt,” I exclaim. “I would love a piece of that ass.”

Caspian cracks open a cold bottle of beer.

“You are such a fantasist,” Bishop responds. I ignore his taunts and head for the bathroom. I wet my face with water and check myself out in the mirror.

Staring at the reflection of my chiseled jaw and piercing green eyes, I get that feeling again. That strange shudder through my body I sometimes get. The thought that, once upon a time, I was just an ordinary teenage boy living in small town America, and now I’m actually this. Internationally renowned rockstar. I’m an entirely different person from that boy practicing his guitar in his bedroom.

I fish for my phone in my pocket and bring up an old photo of me and my sister, taken years ago. Long before albums and records and girls dominated everything. Before Ravaged. She and I are standing in our family’s living room, our crappy little TV behind us. We’re both super young. I’m ten, and Chloe’s eight. We’re posing for the camera, pretending to be little Elton Johns with the flashy sunglasses and big microphones pressed against our faces. I gotta admit we look adorable. Back then, Chloe and I were inseparable. It’s my favorite photo of us; that’s why I keep it stored on my phone and why I check it at moments like these. The memories flood back, and I’m grounded again. I’m back to being that little boy with a dream.

I chuckle to myself. Who knew a few years later everything would change? Chloe and I grew up. Became teenagers. I devoted myself to music, and she developed a fling with one of my best friends. Bishop and I had a major falling out over the fact he and Chloe got together behind my back in high school. Bishop and Chloe then had some kind of major fight and still won’t even speak to each other. Even now.

But then Drake formed Ravaged, and the rest is history. People grow up. People change. Lovers come and go.

And now I’m not just Axel Stoll from Crystal River who does Elton John karaoke with my sister, I’m now Axel Stoll the rockstar.

I don’t know how long this rockstar life will last for, but I know we have to stay on top for as long as possible. I have to soak in every experience.

I lock my phone and dry my face before stepping back into the dressing room. The boys are seated around each other, beers in their hands. Laughing.

“What are you guys chatting about?” I ask, taking a bottle from Bishop and settling down.

Man, I’m spent after that show.

“What else do you think we’re talking about?” Drake asks. “Girls.”

“Ah.”

“Drake thinks we should pay more attention to our upcoming album and its release rather than on getting laid every night,” Bishop adds. “Caspian agrees.”

I laugh. “You think so?” I ask the mountain of a man.

Caspian just growls.

I raise my hands defensively. “Settle down, big guy. I’m not planning on a fight.”