Revolt (Legends and Love)

I’m up with the sun.

I never used to be. I used to sleep most of the day, either sleeping off a hangover, a night of bad decisions, or drugs. Now, the sun hits my face and I do a quick round of yoga and meditation before jumping into the shower and getting ready for the day. I find I like this new routine. I discovered it during my time away, wanting to better myself and change. Although it was hard to get up so early at first when I wasn’t used to it, it made me more productive, and I feel like I can truly make the most of my time rather than waste it. Don’t get me wrong, I love sleep, but there is always time for naps later.

I plan on heading to the studio today, so as I stare into my giant walk-in closet, I debate what to wear. Usually, I go with comfy clothes, but I have the insane urge to dress up again to see the guys’ reactions, living for the desire in their eyes. It boosts my confidence and I’m weak, so instead of my usual comfy attire, I pick out some high-waisted, black cargo type jeans that flare toward the feet and a black crop shirt with a square neckline, showcasing my ample cleavage but covering my shoulders and arms. It shows off my underboob tattoos and stomach, and I make sure to hoist my jeans higher to cover the writing I never show anyone. That tattoo is just for me, no one else. I add some high-heeled boots and mismatched gold jewelry with a million rings. Curling my hair, I pin some of it back before putting on my makeup—my signature red lip and pink and purple winged smoked liner. Checking myself out in the mirror, I realize I look really good, and I feel good too.

I’m almost excited as I head downstairs, anticipation filling me at seeing their reactions. They don’t disappoint as I head into the kitchen to find Astro, half asleep, sipping coffee and Raffiel checking over what seems to be camera angles. Both snap their heads up when I enter, their mouths open to wish me a good morning, but neither speaks as they stare at me.

Astro seems to take a drink out of habit.

“Well, do I look okay?” I smirk when no one responds.

He chokes on his coffee, and I watch as he coughs and splutters until Raff smacks him on the back, and Astro gives him a thumbs-up.

“You look . . . better than okay,” he finally gets out, his voice hoarse.

“Are you sure?” I bat my eyelashes at him.

Raff smirks at me. “Behave. Don’t be mean to him.”

“Me? I’m always nice.” I pout and purposely bend over the table and take his mug, sipping the coffee as he watches me. He glances at my breasts. Victory. Returning the coffee, I lick my lips as I lean back. “Mmm, good coffee.”

“Is it?” Picking up the mug, he places his lips purposely where mine were, keeping his eyes on me the entire time, and sips it. “You’re right, very sweet.”

Astro groans. “Jesus, you two are going to kill me. I can’t protect shit with a hard-on.”

It breaks our stare off, and I move to the cupboard and pick out a to-go cup and pour myself coffee. “Time to go anyway.” I glance back and tell them the truth. “I’ll be at the studio all day. It can be long and boring for anyone else, so you don’t all have to come. You can drop me off.”

“Where you go, we go, and I’m betting it won’t be boring.” Raff stands, buttoning his suit jacket. “Let me get the others.” He runs his eyes down me. “And warn them to hide their dicks.”

“Or maybe pluck out their eyes.” Astro groans, pouting at me. “My throat hurts now.”

“Poor baby, want me to kiss it better?” I taunt.

“Would you?” He smirks, leaning back in his chair, all charming smiles and big, round eyes. I see a dare in his gaze, like he thinks I’ll back down.

He should know one thing about me by now—I never back down.

Placing my coffee down, I saunter over to him. He watches me come, parting his legs to give me room. He pats his thighs, and a pulse of desire goes through me, but I ignore it. It’s fun to mess with them.

Laying my hands on his thighs, I dig my nails in as I lean closer, almost touching my lips to his. His breathing picks up, and his eyes blow wide with lust. At the last minute, I lower my head and tug his shirt down, pressing a red-lipped kiss on his throat.

There’s a groan, and when I lean back, Astro watches me lustfully, clenching his hands, and on his throat, hidden partially by his shirt, is a bright red lipstick mark.

“Miss Harrow,” Raffiel chastises from the doorway as I move away from a dazed Astro.

“I was kissing his throat better,” I tease as I pick up my coffee.

Cillian’s hand shoots up. “Uh, I have something you can kiss better!”

We manage the drive with no incidents, although Astro looks like he’s ready to jump me so Dal sits between us, watching him carefully. I blow him kisses just to wind him up further. Once we’re at the studio, they exit first before helping me out. There are only a few cameras here today, hoping to catch someone, so I wave but walk straight to the door. The guys spread out around me to keep the paparazzi back, and when we get inside, I relax. Ignoring the looks and whispers from others, I head straight to the elevator and hit number fifteen—my lucky number. Once there, I open the huge studio we are using for the time being and kick off my shoes.

Jack is already here, playing with some background music, so I sneak up and cover his eyes. He startles and lets out a little scream before grunting. “Goddamn it, Rey,” he grumbles as I release him, and he spins toward me, grinning. “How are you always so silent? I told you that I’ll tie a bell around you.”

“Kinky.” I wink, and then I lean over and hit play. “What’s this?”

The beats play again, a mix of drums and cymbals, and I listen to them twice, nodding my head as I do and tapping out the beat. “It’s good. That would be good for the intro of track two.”

“That’s what I thought!” He perks up and spins, hitting something else, and more music plays, a softer melody. “And I thought this would work for track eight. We can add in vocals and maybe even some sirens.”

I listen to his vision and sit in the chair next to him, tapping out the beat and imagining what he’s saying. When he starts to put the track together, I murmur out some lyrics and see how they fit, then rearrange them to the beat.

Before I know it, an hour has passed and we have most of a song put together, and Jack finally comes out of his trance. He’s like me when he has music on his mind. He can’t stop until it’s done, until it’s perfect. It’s why we get along so well, not to mention he often flows with my vision and rather than just agreeing. He challenges me to be better.

“Who are the hunks?” Jack asks, looking at the guys spread around the sofas, watching as we work. I offered for them to go home, but they seemed genuinely interested in watching us in the studio. I enjoy it here. It’s the best part of creating music, but my ex or my friends would often get bored and end up leaving when they realized they couldn’t film it or join in.

“My new security team.” I nod at them. “The stern-looking one is Raffiel, the smiling goofball is Astro, the hot redhead is Cillian, and the model one is Dal.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jack says. “I’m Jack Standish. I’ve been working with Rey for years on her music.”

“You’re her producer?” Astro asks conversationally.

“Sometimes, and sometimes I’m just her bitch,” he jokes, making me grin as I put my keys, phone, and coffee down before I stand to stretch. All their eyes go to me, tracking my movements, and Jack huffs.

“Oh, this should be fun.” I smack him on my way by.

“Let’s play it and test,” I offer as I step into the booth. It doesn’t take me long to get set up. We can add instrumentals later. I just want to test the rightness of the lyrics with the melody, so I pop on the headphones, make sure they are adjusted properly, and tug the mic down.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the steady beat of my heart. The music begins, and I shift focus to the notes, working my voice to fit and amplify them, creating more than just a match but a fucking symphony.

I lose myself in the one place where I am free—music.