Triple Crossed

Chapter Seventeen

     Corren woke up late that afternoon with a surprising spring in his step. After a quick shower, he got dressed and went to wake up Roan. He gently shook Roan's shoulder and whispered his name, but there was no response. Corren sighed and figured that Roan must have been exhausted from the withdrawal symptoms.

He went downstairs and made himself a cup of coffee, trying to wake himself up. As he sipped the hot brew, he remembered that his manager had scheduled a concert for his band at a nearby club that night. Corren was eager to take the stage again.

He quickly sent a message to his bandmates to remind them of the gig and then started getting ready. He put on his best clothes and ran a comb through his hair. He gazed into the mirror, admiring his vitiligo skin and his strikingly blue eyes. After he was satisfied with his appearance, he went to check on Roan.

Roan was still sleeping soundly, so Corren decided to let him rest. He scribbled a note telling Roan where he was going and headed out the door.

Corren arrived at the club a few hours before the show was set to start. He checked in with the manager and the sound crew and then went backstage to warm up with his band. They went through a few songs to get in the groove, and Corren felt the excitement building inside him.

As the crowd started to fill up the club, Corren took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. He felt the heat of the spotlight on his face and the roar of the crowd in his ears. He closed his eyes and let the music take over, losing himself in the rhythm. The sound of "The Bidding," by Tallyhall resonated throughout the club. It was often that his band would do covers of Tallyhall. They were inspired by the more well-known band. 

After a few hours of playing, Corren was exhausted but exhilarated. He said goodnight to his bandmates and thanked the audience for coming out to see them. He left the club with a sense of fulfillment, knowing that he had done what he loved and had shared it with others.

As Corren walked back to the mansion, he wondered how Roan was doing. He hoped that Roan had rested well and that the symptoms had eased up. When he arrived home, he saw that the lights were still on in the living room. He hesitated for a moment before walking inside.

Corren stepped into the mansion, still riding the high of the successful concert. He felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him and he yearned for his bed. However, the sight of Roan bandaging up a few old cuts and scrapes with a med kit's remnants scattered across the room caught his attention. He paused, his gaze fixed on Roan, who had a look of shock and guilt on his face as if caught in the act of something terrible. His eye color had yet to return to normal. 

"What are you doing?" Corren asked, his voice gentle and concerned. He decided to not question the eye change just yet. He didn't want to set him off. 

Roan quickly covered up the cuts and tried to move away from Corren as he yanked his shirt back down, but Corren reached out to stop him. "Let me see," he said.

Roan pulled back, refusing to show his wounds. "It's nothing," he muttered, his eyes darting away from Corren's gaze.

"It's clearly not nothing," Corren pressed, his voice firm but still caring. "You don't have to hide it from me. I just want to help."

Roan's expression darkened. "You don't know anything about it," he spat. 

Corren was taken aback by Roan's sudden hostility, but he refused to back down. "Roan, please," he pleaded.

But Roan simply turned and walked away, leaving Corren standing alone in the hallway, feeling helpless and frustrated. He knew that something was bothering Roan, but he didn't know what, and Roan wasn't willing to tell him.

Corren sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wondering what he could do to help Roan. He made a mental note to keep an eye on Roan and try to be there for him, even if Roan didn't want his help right now. He decided to get ready for bed.

Corren stood in front of the bathroom sink, splashing water on his face to wash off the heavy makeup he had worn for the concert. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the sting of the soap as he scrubbed at the black eyeliner and dark eyeshadow. He glanced up at the mirror and paused, seeing Roan standing in the doorway.

"Hey," Roan said softly, leaning against the door frame.

Corren turned off the faucet and wiped his face with a towel. "Hey," he replied, looking at Roan's reflection in the mirror.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," Roan said, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that."

"It's okay," Corren said, turning around to face Roan. "I understand why you're upset. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

Roan nodded, looking down at his feet. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I appreciate it."

Corren stepped closer to Roan. "Is there anything I can do to help you right now?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Roan shook his head. "No, I think I just need some time to myself," he said, stepping away from Corren.

"Okay," Corren said, giving Roan a small smile. "Just know that I'm here if you need me."

Roan nodded again and turned to leave the bathroom, heading back to his room. Corren watched him go, feeling a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. He knew that Roan was struggling with himself.

Corren crawled into bed, feeling the exhaustion of the long night catch up to him. His muscles ached from the energy he expended on stage, but the thrill of performing was worth it. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, sinking into the soft sheets and pillows.

For now, Corren let himself surrender to the sweet release of slumber. He was grateful for the peace that came with it, even if it was just temporary.