ROT WITH ME

xi - illusion

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The tight knot that formed in her throat had been a repercussion of the thrumming from her phone that pulsed through her flesh. It'd spiked her heart rate to an all time high, but then the caller ID had utterly devastated her.

Dad.

June knew it couldn't be him. That was beyond the bounds of possibility. Death had embraced him. He was dead. There was no logical explanation if he turned up alive. It wasn't him.

Still, in the back of her head, and in the depths of her heart. She hoped.

She'd pardoned herself with an explanation that simply wasn't believable at all. In a way, she wasn't trying to hide her bewilderment, but attempted to play the part of someone that wasn't suspicious for the mere sake of saving time.

Her fingers itched to accept the call as she shoved through the sea of shouting people. Inaudible lyrics to June's ears, her own voice in her mind replaced any coherent word.

Rafe's eyes followed her every step as he sung till she was out of view.

Once she was outside, she'd avoided two smokers lurking nearby, who gave her strange looks and turned a corner right into an empty alleyway. Her back pressing into the brick wall, it's chill seeping through her light, wool coat. Quickly clicking the green icon to answer the call before time ran out.

'Hello?' she breathed out. Wintry air blowing from her mouth like smoke. Fingers trembling from not the cold, but anticipation.

'Hi, it's Alice,' she replied in a sweet tone that reminded June of the sort of timber people used on children or pets.

Ann Evans, Mom's friend.

'Ms Evans?'

Ann cleared her throat. 'Yes. How've you been?'

A group of adolescents walked by. Obnoxiously laughing about who knows what. June waited till they passed before speaking.

'June? Are you-'

'Why're you on his phone?' she was quick to interrupt.

Ann sighed on the other end. A bit of static creeping between the call.

'Your mother, she misses you two.'

'I know.'

'I'm sorry, June. But you have to face her eventually, please reach out. She's been drinking herself to death.'

Her jaw clenched. 'That doesn't mean she should show up at the apartment with no warning,' she spoke through gritted teeth.

'What are you talking about?

'Alara saw her a few days ago.'

'What? That's impossible, we've been at the beach house for a month now.'

Silence.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

'Can I call you back?' June spoke airily, almost lost in thought.

'June, don't you dare hang up without-'

June hung up. Sliding down the wall, gravel crunching beneath her feet as she folded her legs sloppily. Resting her head on her own shoulder. Slumped posture.

Alara must've been hallucinating again.

But she had sworn she was getting better. For months, her sister hadn't seen anything even close to an illusion. Or at least that's what she was telling June. What affair would even trigger her PTSD again?

Was June supposed to tell her? Did she already know about it?

Her eyes fell to her lap. Counting sheep in her head. Alara was safe at Theo's for now. Breathing in and out. In and out. In and out.

'Hey, princess.'

June's eyes shot up.

Rafe couldn't concentrate. He moved his fingers down and up the length of his guitar. Mind devoured with the likeness of a distraught June. Fret pricked at his skin, mouth forming the next lyrics of their song with vocal memory, but the lights were promptly too bright. Too warm. A bead of sweat gathering at his temple.

The urge to unbutton his blouse, to bolt outside for a breath of fresh air, to dip oneself in an ice cold bath, to find June, now, seized him at once.

June. June. June.

Ren wiped down the table after a spill. By the looks of it, he had served every individual who desired a drink. Shrugging on his leather jacket before he rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. But they snap open in the same second he hears a shrill scream burst through the place. Not one filled with joy. But bloody murder.

June stumbled back. Dread engulfing her irises as a man came towards her. Clothed in grey sweats, white Air Forces and a black jumper with its hood up. Covering half of his face. A slight smile on his mouth, one of his hands holding a plastic bag.

'Don't move,' he warned.

June stood quickly, composing herself. He'd caught her off guard at first. 'Get the fuck away from me,' she didn't let her voice quiver.

He snorted like a pig. 'You have a dirty little mouth, don't you?'

Disgust rolled off June in waves.

'What's going on here?'

June recognized the voice in an instant.

He stepped between the man and her.

The second the song was over. Rafe lifted the strap of his guitar over his head, setting it down on stage before jumping off. Knocking over the mic stand in the process, the screeching, crackling and hissing of static shooting through the pub.

His bandmates calling his name in wonder as fans flocked to him. He rammed through as they continued to follow.

Once he was out the door, he saw her.

Relief coursed through his bloodstream. He opened his mouth. 'Ju-'

He stopped himself. Ren's jacket hung over her arms.

His heart tightened in his chest as they made eye contact. Her eyes widened at his presence, before falling back to the people surrounding him. Ren leaned in closer. Dipping his head to her ear. June moved her attention onto Ren. Rafe didn't like this. In fact, the scene made him want to inject poison into his arteries. He didn't know why.

But before he could figure it out and do something about it, someone's head moved in the way. 'Can I have a picture?'

The noise finally registered, so many voices, so many questions, so many hands on him, there was no such thing called personal space. Photos snapping, the flash of cameras, the confessions, it was suffocating. He felt cornered. Violated. His shoulders caved in.

All he could think about was June.

...

And Ren.