Stars and Scars

During the silence before Ariel’s arrival, Skye and I embraced, whispering affirmations to each other to pass the time. The security team on the floor was embarrassed and avoided eye contact with us.

Finally, Ariel and her manager emerged from the elevator. Her presence was as commanding as ever. It was obvious she was trying to make a lasting impression on Skye.

She gestured for us to follow to her room, electing not to speak, probably trying to send a message, but after over a month on tour, it didn’t have the expected impact.

Her manager closed the door behind us as we entered the room, vanishing before we could say a word.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Skye,” Ariel’s voice was sharp. She was facing the window, rather than her guests.

The sweat and glitter in her hair from the show were glimmering in the hotel lights.

“Thank you,” Skye said quietly, with a tinge of irritation. “The pleasure is all mine.”

She was shaking, more from annoyance than anything else.

I grabbed her hand tighter than usual as a reassurance. Ariel might be a diva, but Skye couldn’t let the antics get to her.

“Wes and so many of my peers have had so much to say about you,” she turned, finally acknowledging us properly. “I’ve been looking forward to this for months, and so far, you haven’t disappointed me…”

Her voice trailed off as her gaze wandered down to Skye’s waist, fixating on her newest cut.

“That’s an interesting mark. Most girls don’t let their…scars,” a brief pause as she debated if that was the right word. “Show.”

Skye’s smile was daunting. I couldn’t read her, but it was obvious that this was what she was hoping for.

She unbuttoned her jeans without hesitation, baring the fresh cut along with the lattice of older scars. A gallery she curated herself.

At this point, she was in her own reality. Her expression bordering on sadistic, taking me back to that night in the Parris’ garage.

Ariel’s expression was filled with disgust.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Does this make you uncomfortable?” Skye asked in a condescending tone.

Ariel gave a slight nod, but didn’t answer quickly enough.

Skye released my hand and closed the distance between them.

“For someone who’s at the forefront of the ‘love yourself’ and ‘body positivity’ movement, that was a bit of a weird thing for you to say,” her head tilted, she bit her bottom lip.

Ariel was a foot taller than her, but with how much Ariel had shrunk, they seemed eye level from where I was standing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you,” Ariel continued her retreat, fidgeting with her bracelet to divert her attention.

Skye laughed, “Oh, no, I’m not offended at all. I’m not even bothered by it…I just think people should be held accountable, don’t you?”

The room was tense, and I was too much of a coward to cut it.

“Yeah…” Ariel whispered, her hands behind her back now, still fidgeting out of sight.

“But that’s enough about this. You look fantastic, and your set sounded amazing,” Skye paused. “So, what do you want to know about little old me?”

Taking advantage of the moment of mercy, Ariel collected herself, and regained some of her composure.

“I guess I was wondering how you and Wes ended up together, in this world,” she was still timid. This likely was not how she planned to ask this question.

I approached Skye, partly seeking to join the conversation, but mainly to get a better view of her expressions.

Quickly, I was next to her, and got a clear look at her face: Beautiful, Wicked, and an open tooth smile.

I saw the blood from her bite had begun to paint her bottom row of teeth rusty pink. Her tongue kept pressing on her lip, using her teeth as leverage to draw more blood from the wound in her mouth.

To Ariel, she looked like a starved lunatic, licking her lips before devouring her prey.

“Well, we met when Embers of Twilight was just finding their footing…his girlfriend, we’ll call her Julia, introduced us by accident,” she paused, closing her mouth and giving a dead pan expression. “One thing led to another and I was on top of him…then they broke up.”

A bit cartoonish, but she made her point. She wanted Ariel to know that she was proud of herself for wrecking my last relationship.

The tension in the room was now suffocating.

Skye was sending a message about Ariel inviting me to her hotel room alone, and it was safe to say it was received based on the sweat beads dripping down her face.

“Wes is a good friend of Stan McSorley. Their relationship is like a creepy uncle and the black sheep nephew kind of thing. I got lucky one day that Wes and Stan liked my writing, and now here we are,” her smile returned. “It’s not as exciting as you’d think.”

Ariel let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, that tracks. Honestly, all of this makes sense, you, more than anything.”

Standing up straight, Ariel continued, “Wes has referred to you as a natural disaster, and after this, that might be an understatement.”

Skye turned her head toward me, a single stream of blood rolling down her chin, the gash in her lip was deeper than I realized. She was beaming.

“Yeah, Wes knows me better than anyone else…” her fingers unconsciously moved across the scars on her midriff. “I can’t believe a person like him exists.”

Ariel’s initial reaction was disgust, which she failed to hide; however, Skye was content to leave it alone.

It was obvious she was curious about the scars, the new cut, and the blood on her face, as well as my role in all of it, but she was afraid of Skye.

Skye’s gaze returned to Ariel.

“So, usually, when another woman gets curious about this, I prefer to show rather than tell,” her eyes lit up, closing the distance between them, grabbing her arms.

“I’m not sure what that means,” Ariel turned her gaze to me, “and I don’t think tonight is the night for me to find out.”

Skye laughed, hiding her disappointment.

“Well, if you ever get curious, you know how to get in touch with us,” Skye said, retreating back to me.

I tilted her chin up to me and licked the streak of blood off her face before we shared a quick kiss.

Ariel was disgusted.

Skye and I were ready to go back to our hotel room.

***

We didn’t waste any time or energy back at our hotel room. We went for hours, riding the adrenaline and the pure bloodlust from our meeting with Ariel.

Eventually, we had proper aftercare, and settled into each other’s arms, able to talk without every sound being a turn on.

“Sorry about earlier…I didn’t mean for it to go that way.” Her voice was timid.

“Oh?”

“I really wanted to talk about her past, her music, and all of our inspirations. I’ve heard so many stories about her, and thought we could be friends,” she paused. “But I guess I fucked that up.”

I rubbed her arm as I pulled her tighter.

“She’s tough…we have another six weeks on the road. You’ll figure it out…you always do.”

She laughed quietly, “If you say so…I just didn’t expect her to be so put off by my cut. If this was from self-harm, I would’ve been inconsolable.”

She paused to process her emotions, “I got mad. If I was a depressed fan, hearing that from my hero would’ve made me ideate. I wanted her to understand that her words always have weight.”

She quickly wiped a couple of tears, trying to hide them before I saw.

“Well, I think your messages landed.”

“Why plural?”

I chuckled, “That night when Ariel was coming onto me, I told her what we have was special. I think after tonight, she has a better idea of what I meant.”

I continued, “Based on how she shuddered at me licking blood off your face, she couldn’t dream of replacing you.”

“Is that the first time you’ve made her uncomfortable?”

“Probably…she’s usually not so easy to read.”

I fell asleep at some point in our conversation. Relief washed over me with her in my arms. At some point I would probably marry this woman.