Wicked Ones {bxb}

{Chapter 19 - The Confessions of Kailan Tsai}

It was funny.

Music was supposed to 'soothe the mind', wasn't it? Music 'relaxes the body', 'lifts the spirit'. For some, it helps them focus. For others, it helps them sleep.

But for Vincent, this music was a punishment.

It wasn't soothing, or relaxing, and he wasn't drifting into a blissful slumber—it was a loud, rattling throng of jackhammers that beat away at his sinuses until he felt a rush of vertigo hit him like a cyclone wind. He nearly had to grip the counter to keep himself upright.

Loud music had never bothered him before, but something was different this time. A sound was rolling about in the walls of his skull, shrill and taut and awful. But it didn't seem to be bothering anyone else. All of the other guests at the party were socializing and dancing; laughing and drinking. It was only Vincent cradling his crown like it might split in two.

He kneaded circles into his forehead, pleading his headache to wash away with the next shot of vodka. And yet, no matter how he drank, every shiver of bass was drilling through his bones; screaming at him, lecturing him like the know-better brother he'd never had.

Then again, that had always been Kailan's job. Kailan, who slapped him with rulers during tutoring. Kailan who crept under the radar with his 4.0 GPA. Kailan, who was currently thirty-feet away, trapped in the hungry eyes of four ravishing young women.

"So you're new here, Kailan?" Vincent heard one of the women inquire, her fingers twirled about, twisting innocently through the silky tresses of his hair.

Why had he brought Kai along, anyways? The whole purpose of coming was to find Gigi, but they'd been there nearly an hour and she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Kailan had been lured away by sirens, who were fawning over him relentlessly, fluttering about like moths to a lamppost.

That was when the headaches began.

"What happened to your lip, sweetheart?" one asked, edging closer on the couch and pouting as she delicately brushed against the wound from the night before. Kailan leaned away from the affections, but hid his discomfort with a smile.

"That's the third time she's tried to touch him," Vinny noted, taking a peanut from a bowl nearby and un-shelling it between his fingers. He wouldn't eat it, but it'd soothe his fidgeting—which had grown more and more demanding every time Kailan flinched away from a set of dainty acrylic claws. Just then, one of the women brushed down Kailan's arm, and the boy tensed visibly.

He doesn't like being touched. He doesn't like being touched, so stop fucking touching him. The shell crushed between Vincent's fingers.

He was watching them from his spot in the next room over, tipping back jello-shots like they were breath mints. He hadn't intended to drink tonight. His goal was to find Gigi, get some answers, and leave this whole mess behind him--but that plan went down the shitter the second she turned out to be a no-show. Now he was waiting. Waiting for Kailan to break from his conversation, waiting for Jeff to get back to him with word on Gigi, waiting for someone to turn down the goddamn music.

"Oh my god, your hair is so soft," he could hear the shrilly admiration. "No, seriously, I'm envious." Kailan seemed a bit uncomfortable with the pampering, but his smile was lively as ever, and he spared Vinny only a glance before he found his way back to the conversation.

As for Vincent, he was itching—every bit of him. Anxious and edgy, like he'd fallen into a pit of spiders and he couldn't shake the crawly feeling from his flesh. It was partially due to Kailan ditching him to fraternize with the upperclassmen, partially due to the fact that he'd stolen Vinny's glory right out from under him, but mostly due to something else entirely; a strange cryptic feeling, spiced with a soupçon of déjà vu. One that Vincent didn't quite understand.