CHAPTER 5
~TRYSTAN~
“Well, that couldn’t have gone worse,” Trystan mumbled, as he walked back into the theater. Running his fingers through his hair, he pressed his eyes closed. There were so many things he did that totally screwed his relationship with Mari. It was like the whole relationship went up in a ball of flames before he even realized he liked her—before he fell in love with her.
Regret snaked through his stomach, as he walked to a few rows behind Tucker and slouched down into a seat. Within a matter of moments, girls he didn’t really know filled the seats next to him. They fell from the sky like rain. They were always there chattering. He was never alone, but he always felt isolated. Trying to block out the chatter, he watched the beginning of the third act on stage. Brie was sucking-up her lines and trying to cover it by blaming someone else.
That’s when he finally zoned in on the conversation going on around him.
The girl was saying, “I know, right? I heard there’s a reward for the person who outs him.”
Trystan’s gaze snapped toward her, “Outs who?”
Regan beamed, glad that he noticed her. Her inky hair gleamed in the dim light, falling over her shoulders as she leaned closer to him. “Day Jones. Who else? The guy’s a shadow. Every time someone thinks they got a line on him, he vanishes. Poof.” She lifted her hand, making the fingers of her fist fly open. Her dark brows rose as if it were impressive.
Another voice spoke and Trystan turned to see Jamie, a coppery-haired girl with olive skin. “There’s a reward, and it’s huge. That rich dude said he’d offer a million bucks to the person who finds him. Something about wanting Day to sing at his kid’s birthday.” She shrugged like it was a normal thing to do. Trystan never celebrated his birthday. Actually, he spent it as far away from his dad as he could manage. It was a reminder of everything they lost, of everything he’d never have.
Trystan’s skin prickled as ice filled his stomach. He shifted in his seat, hiding behind that cool smile he always wore. “Are you serious?” he was shocked, but he hid it like he hid everything.
What the hell was wrong with people? Why couldn’t they admire a song and leave a guy alone?
“Totally,” Regan replied. She laughed and turned toward Tessa behind her. “Did you see that Day-Tracker site? The one with all the leads and how they panned out?”
Tessa laughed, “Yeah, that was awesome,” she leaned forward. “That last guy they tracked seemed like a good fit, but in the end, it wasn’t him. I was totally hoping they’d find him. I can’t wait to see what he’ll do—and what he looks like. With a voice like that, he has to be hot. The shy thing just makes him more appealing.”
“I know, right?” Regan smiled, nodding in agreement.
“Hey, did you see the Facebook page for Find Day?” Tessa continued, “It’s hysterical.”
Regan nodded, smiling huge. “I know right? And the pictures were an awesome touch.” She turned to look at Trystan, adding, “It’s like the ultimate Where’s Waldo of hot guys. Girls have been uploading pics of what they think Day looks like and where they think he is. I’m totally uploading my guess later.”
“And, what’s that?” Trystan asked, a smirk on his face. He folded his arms over his chest while they were speaking and sat up a little bit. His stomach was tangling into a knot. They were looking for him.
Regan giggled, “Well, with a song like that there’s no question that he’s been playing for a long time. His accent sounded a little Cajun, and based on the way he plays, I’m thinking New Orleans.” She turned quickly and pointed a finger at the others, “You better not steal my idea. Post your own city.”
“He’s not in New Orleans,” Tessa whispered as Tucker looked back at them, a clear signal to shut up, but they kept talking. “Cajun accent,” she mimicked and rolled her eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you? He’s clearly from Long Island. Did you hear the way he said his G’s?”
Regan contested, “Yeah, but he didn’t put W’s in the middle of everything. There’s no way he’s from around there. You’d hear it.”
“Scott!” Tucker yelled. “Silence your posse or get out.”
Trystan stood, heart racing, all too happy to flee. The girl’s looked up at him as he rose. “Mr. Tucker, you know as well as I do that there’s nothing that will get them to stop talking, short of the apocalypse, and even then I imagine that they’ll be pointing out which zombie is wearing what, so I’ll take you up on your offer and leave.” The girl’s watched him slack-jawed, admiring him and then bursting into giggles at the zombie fashion reference.
Trystan headed out the back door, his head spinning. People were looking for him, trying to discover Day Jones’ identity. The thought never occurred to him, not in his wildest dreams. Dread pooled in his stomach as he walked to his locker and opened the metal door. Staring into space, he wondered if there was anything telling on the video—any signs of who he was or where he was. Trystan admitted he wasn’t very careful. When he made the video he was only thinking of Mari. He leaned his head against the cold metal and took a deep breath. He’d have to watch the video later to make sure there was nothing identifiable. Although he’d done it already, he felt like there was something there, something that would lead them to him. Trystan was certain that their only real clue was the YouTube account and his user name. Even if someone managed to track the IP address, it would show his neighbor, not Trystan’s home. The thought still made him squirm. That was too close.
Trystan grabbed his leather jacket and slammed the locker door. As he headed outside, a cool burst of wind caught his jacket and Trystan tugged it shut. Night was falling. Practice was running longer and longer, as it normally did, up until the day of the dress-rehearsal. Trystan walked down the street. Car horns blared on the busy road next to him. The scent of exhaust mingled with the crisp autumn air filled his lungs.
Passing store fronts, he walked to the diner to meet Seth and his date. Trystan cringed inside. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He laughed hollowly. Yeah right. Knowing Seth, there wasn’t really another option. He sighed, his breath coming out in a white cloud. Sometimes he wished he had a different life, a different father, a different past.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if people knew he wrote that song, but the thought made him cringe. What would his life be like if people knew he was Day Jones? What would they think when they found out his mother ran out on him and that his dad hated him? Trystan hung his head, his gaze intent on the sidewalk in front of him. He could see it, picture it in his mind’s eye—everything everyone ever thought about him was a lie. He wasn’t anyone special. He wasn’t anyone at all. Revealing Day Jones’ identity would destroy him. It would strip away the little parts of his life that mattered.
Frustration shot through Trystan. Moving his feet faster, he came up with a plan for the date. He’d have dinner with Seth, so he didn’t get grilled with more Mari questions, and then get rid of the girl. There was no way he could feel okay. Not tonight. Not after today. Everything had started off so promising, before it derailed and turned to ash in his hands.