Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

13. The Boy with the DAMN, DANIEL

HB texted Delilah to come to Ryland's house to hang with the guys.

Delilah stopped in front of the house with a case of beer hooked on one finger. She could see the silhouettes moving in the window and realized they must've took over the attic to rehearse.

Although she caught a mere glimpse of what they were capable of, the fact she could finally see the boys in action made her antsy. Seeing them in the café was exhilarating, but to see the process in the making was definitely a game changer.

HB kept dropping hints at how the boys brainstorm and rehearse in a very...different way.

She went up the porch steps, the swinging creaking as it rocked on the front lawn. The windmill spun as she rushed past, opening the door and escaping into the warmth of the house. She tossed her coat on the rack and smiled at the clash of drums and their voices blend together.

She unzipped her boots and tossed them with the pile of converses in the corner.

She nodded her head to the song they were playing and raced up the stairs to the second floor, and then the attic where a set of stairs waited for her. She nearly tripped on her way up.

All the lights were shut off and she stuck up as if her legs couldn't take her up faster.

Christmas lights hung up the across the ceiling, lighting up the attic. Wheeley chairs were scattered around the whole floor, balloons floating or laying across. The walls were covered with paper, marker already drawn all over the big sheets. Words or doodles and mind maps filled some parts of the paper, other parts blank.

And there the first trouble maker was. Brody was on one of the wheeley chairs with a silver pot on his head, worn like a baseball cap. He was smacking away on the drum set, keeping up the beat of the song.

Paris was singing, doing a sweet riff on his guitar, covered in crazy string. He was in a bathrobe and had a shower cap on, shouting into the microphone and rocking out.

Ryland was in his boxers and bunny slippers, singing with his electric guitar slung over his chest. He kept rocking his head back and forth, the hockey helmet bopping like a bobble head.

He sang in sync with Paris, the two having a blast during the lyrics. Then he broke out into his own guitar riff, a cheer coming from the side and Delilah saw HB chilling in the empty bathtub.

But Delilah didn't feel like sitting in a bathtub. The thrill of the boys and their song set her on edge and like any fangirl, she cheered and screamed and nodded her hea. She felt the floor shake under her socks and the walls ready to collapse at the ear bleeding sounds.

Then she came running over to HB and grabbed her hand.

At first, the blonde hesitated. Then Delilah yanked her to her feet and grabbed the two beers from the case and cracked one open for HB.

After one swing of burning alcohol, they started shaking their head and wiping their hair; dancing like nobody's business.

By the time the chorus came, they all knew the words and screamed until their lungs burned and beer was spilled all over the floor and until their throats stung and ached.

The song finally ended with a little drum play from Brody and finally, you could hear the faint sound of someone's playlist hooked up the stereo.

Delilah screamed and put two fingers in her mouth, letting out a big whistle. She ran over and jumped on top of Paris. "You sound fucking amazing!" she hollered.