The Masquerade Read Online Free PDF Page B

was hard not to laugh. There wasn't much humor or relevance in the words, but we still managed to laugh.
    The door burst open when Jesse reached it. Our stage manager
    appeared with a headset hooked around his ears. "You're on in two minutes!" He shouted and moved to the side, holding the door open, so Jesse and I could move through. Under his breath, I heard him mumble curses
    about one of us always being late for a show. It wasn't just us. Rock stars were always late, whether it was hooking up with a fan or getting wasted at a bar. The suspicion died in the stereotype we fit into.
    The stage crew tried to keep up with us while we moved
    quickly through the dimly lit hallway. One of them grabbed my guitar from my hands and replaced it with a microphone, while another held up a mirror to my face for me to approve. A sly smile appeared in my expression as my reflection
    snarled back at me. I adjusted the silver ring pierced through my lip and nodded to whoever held the mirror.
    We rounded the corner when someone handed me a leather jacket. I slipped it on. I would eventually toss it into the crowd and watch,
    with pleasure, as star struck girls, and even some boys, fought over it. Black leather jackets had become my trademark. I only owned one that I'd kept with me since the beginning. One fan, every night, went home with a jacket, believing
    they were special, whether they thought it was my actual jacket or not. I would never give my actual jacket away knowing everything I had been through with it. It had become a part of me over the years.
    "Look who finally decided to show up." Cam said
    and shot me a coy smile.
    I nodded, met his dark eyes, and smirked in return without saying a word. Eye contact was a major source of communication between us. Our band held a dangerous secret, one that we kept loosely. We walked on a thin
    line, one wrong step, and we easily expose ourselves. The thrill of standing on the edge was what we enjoyed the most. There were others like us that waited for the perfect opportunity to destroy us. And we just liked to piss them off.
    Cam punched me in the arm before violently shaking his head a few times over the guitar he gripped in his hands. Head banging was a crucial move to pump us up for a show. PJ stood beside Cam with his arms crossed, two
    drums sticks in each hand. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He never wore a shirt. His wardrobe consisted of black leather pants and combat boots. The girls loved it. He had a mean body and abs that girls have asked to lick in the past, during meet and greets. Considered a mute in interviews, PJ never spoke. He
    didn't say much, but words do leave his mouth. Usually in a fashion of sarcastic remarks towards Cam whenever he did something stupid.
    Our guitarist, Max, nodded his head to me. He had a soft
    baby face that cradled his smile. He was known for his soft features, which never made him very happy, but his Mr. Hyde made up for it whenever he was hungry.
    Max, Cam, and Jesse stood, tuning their guitars. PJ and I
    were the only ones who just stood there waiting, tapping our shoes against the black linoleum back stage. The intro to our first song began to play, rocking the floorboards beneath our feet. The crowd began chanting, each word fit perfectly in tune and carried the beat. The girls were shouting our names.
    The five of us stood motionless with smiles that toyed with our faces as we listened to the girls beckoning us to the stage. They wanted us. They dreamed about us. If only they knew how dangerous that really was.
    Suddenly, the music twisted into a hard core beat that pounded in our ears. We moved to the stairs that led directly up to the stage. Max and Cam began to bounce, rolling off the heels of their feet lightly, to
    prep themselves. I adjusted my lip ring again out of habit. Jesse tightened his guitar strap.
    PJ threw his head back. His black hair fell into his eyes as he shook to ready himself. He flashed a white smile to us before he ran up