“Fuck me.” She whimpered.
So I did. Bending her over the sofa in the empty dressing room she’d taken me to, I pulled her panties down and off and then thrust straight into her wet heat. She groaned as I took her further towards paradise. Being drained and given multiple orgasms did that to a woman. After I’d shot my load (no babies from this undead guy), I laid her on the sofa in the room and whispered in her ear. But these were no whisperings of love, rather those of vampire compulsion to tell her that she was feeling ill and needed to rest.
When I made my way back to the audition room there was no sign of any of my bandmates. We were used to each other’s different ways after meeting at college years ago.
Feeling on top of my game now I had recently fed, I allowed myself to get excited about the fact we were through to the judges rounds of Britain’s Best New Band. My teenage dreams could potentially become a reality.
Leaving the building, the smug smile I was wearing slid straight off into my boots as I came face to face with a contestant making her way inside.
Stacey Williams.
My ex-girlfriend.
The girl I’d loved, but who I’d given up in order to pursue my dreams of fame.
Her eyes met mine and her mouth turned down in a sneer. Then she pushed past me, knocking my shoulder hard and was gone inside the building.
She was entering the competition?
That meant she was my competition.
My rival.
There was a fine line between love and hate and it appeared Stacey had come down on the side of vengeance.
The worst thing? I couldn't blame her.
I sped back to my apartment, thankful of my inbuilt vamp speed, sat straight down on the sofa and thought about how fucking delicious Stacey had looked. Long dark hair, a cracking pair of tits that her tight grey t-shirt ripped over the midriff hinted at to perfection, thighs that would squeeze the life from me were I not already dead. But whereas her green eyes used to sparkle with love, now they’d been crackling with pure venom. It was a long way from how we used to be around each other. But I couldn't change the past, and Stacey had every right to look at me that way after how I'd treated her.
I let my mind drift back.
Weston Senior School – eight years earlier
“Come on, choir. This is our last rehearsal ready for the End of Year show. So pull out all the stops for me now and sing your hearts out. Pretend this is the performance to the parents.”
Stacey, my girlfriend of the last year, rolled her eyes at me. The choir was where all the losers who could sing ended up. The ones where they didn’t want us visible, but appreciated we had a good voice. All the adored kids had parts in the actual school play which this time was a production of Grease. Well, Stacey was my Sandy, and I was her Danny, so I didn’t care.
Except I did. I was sick of being picked on by the cool kids at school. They permanently took the piss out of the fact I wasn’t able to wear the designer stuff like they did. I had cheap non-branded shoes—the only ones my mother could afford as a single mum—and they called me things like Coco because I had clown feet; any damn thing to make themselves feel better and popular.
Where Stacey got completely ignored by everyone, like she didn’t exist at all, I was a target for all. Sneered at, despised, told I stank, all because I couldn’t wear labels, and I had braces on my teeth that weren’t invisible.
Finally, the bell rang signalling the end of the class and we pulled on our coats and left the building.
“Another exciting day at Weston complete.” Stacey linked her arm through mine.
“Oh look, Granger’s carer is with him again.” Jack Brooks, my main enemy, sniggered as he stomped past, knocking my bag off my shoulder as he did. “Ever want a real man, come look me up.” He winked at Stacey. “My mum said it was important to do charity work.”
I hated the fact that I couldn’t stick up for my girlfriend. The last time I’d tried, they’d held me down, stripped me of my trousers and pants, and tied me to a lamppost outside school by my own belt. I didn’t know what Stacey saw in me.
“Stacey—” I began, but I saw her mouth twist in annoyance.
“Noah, you are the kindest soul I ever met, and I love you. I don’t want anyone else. It’s their fault they can’t see what I see, and it’s my gain. It's their loss and that’s because they are losers.”
I smiled a half-hearted smile. “I love you too, Stacey. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met, and the most talented, with the voice of an angel. And one day you’ll get your place in the limelight, I’m sure.”
Stacey squeezed my arm with hers. “One day, Noah, we'll show them. We’ll be the ones on top and they’ll have a house in Loserville. Together we are invincible.” She kissed my cheek. “Now come on, I might even let you feel my boobs.”
Now my smile became genuinely wider.
Maybe I could turn things around? I had one more year at this damn school and then college beckoned. Perhaps I could reinvent myself?
Truth was, I wasn’t sure I’d survive another year.
Funnily enough, I didn’t.
Stacey
I couldn't say it was a surprise to have bumped into my ex. I'd known it would happen sooner rather than later. Appeared it was sooner. The Para-not-normals were extremely talented, and let's be clear, I was talking about musically here. But so were my band, The Seven Sisters. I'd fully expected both our bands to advance beyond the first rounds, but bumping into him just outside the building on the very first audition day had taken me a little by surprise. My prayers had been to not see him until we'd hopefully got through to the live finals. And then I'd have liked my appearance there to have knocked him on his arse.
His really fucking fit, tight as a peach in my gentle hold, arse. Bastard.
He'd looked so good and I hated him for it. That dark spiked hair. His dark-brown eyes, like pools of chocolate sauce. You wanted them on you, like the syrup drizzled down your naked body. Come on, Stacey, stop this, I urged myself as we waited to sing for a second time. I was genuinely here for a chance to win the talent show and get my career on a high, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit revenge on Noah was a close… second. Yes, second… just.
Seven Sisters needed to win this whole competition. And although we were all witches, I wouldn't use a single spell to advance us to the final and to win. I wanted us to win on our talent alone. Then not only would my dreams come true, but it would show Noah 'fucktard' Granger that when he'd made his choice years ago, he'd made the wrong one.
His dark-brown eyes reminded me of how bitter I was still, all these years later. Like 100% cocoa solids.
I spoke to the rest of my band. "We have to get through this round. We have to win this show."
"You got it, sister! We're going to be the next Little Mix, but with seven of us!" Donna said with gusto. At five foot one she often jumped a little when she was excited.
We called each other sisters as we belonged to the same coven. When I'd been at my lowest, I'd found solace in spells and had found the local coven. They'd become my family and I loved them all as if they were my biological brood.