Page 1 of Riot

PROLOGUE

“It seems the music world has been filled with nothing but scandals in the last year or so, and tonight is no different. We have another shocking revelation for you. Fallon, the world’s most beloved morbid rocker, has released a statement ahead of her upcoming book and tour?—”

“The statement sent the world into shockwaves this morning as Fallon finally addresses the rumors swirling since her childhood?—”

“Many are horrified at the allegations and truth coming to light about Fallon’s past?—”

“Many remember Fallon’s father, legendary rock star Agille from the band Electric Giants, but it appears nothing was what it seemed?—”

“It seems Fallon, the ice queen of rock, is ready to melt?—”

I turn away from the news reports with a Cheshire cat grin.

Melt?

They have no idea.

I’m about to start a tidal wave.

I’m going to start a riot.

ONE

More dahlias arrive, and I stare at them with a sigh. I don’t know how he got my address, but he has friends in high places. Kage is an up-and-coming rock star, and for some reason, he has set his sights on me.

Fool.

Tossing them in the trash, I walk farther into my house without an ounce of regard for the beautiful flowers that have shown up every single day since I turned him down at that awards show. Maybe it should bother me that I don’t feel anything anymore, but that icy numbness is better than pain.

I am simultaneously empty and too full at the same time. My entire existence is a juxtaposition. I can never quite fully breathe, yet I am numb. I sing about love and hope, yet I have never felt anything but despair and pain.

Maybe I should start at the beginning and why they call me the ice queen.

Why I can’t trust the man sending the flowers . . .

Why I became the way I am . . .

A year ago . . .

I am expected to be okay, but no one cares if I’m not, so I grit my teeth and suffer alone, knowing that one day, it will be too much. They will care then, and that makes me so angry, I want to scream. I want to rip their perfect illusions to shreds, but instead, I sip the overpriced Champagne and force a smile onto my face. No one looks under the surface. My chest tightens by increments with each short, sharp breath, and the room is closing in. My clothes are too tight, and my skin is too hot.

I feel it all and nothing.

I am alive but not living.

I am just moving through life, trying to make myself as small as possible. I feel like I don’t belong, as if I don’t have the right to take up space in a body that doesn’t feel like it fits.

Part of me hates everyone, while the other part of me begs for them to notice me.

Maybe someone will care someday, or they won’t and I’ll be stuck here, screaming inside, forgotten and alone where I belong.

I’ll be left with the other relics of the past people chose to ignore.

I shake myself from my thoughts, and then I see him.

He shines as he walks around the tables and sits at my side. His face is familiar, and I can’t remember why, but suddenly, I can breathe again. I can feel, and I just stare.

It’s another awards show. I don’t even know why I’m here other than it was better than being alone at home, trying to pretend everything is fine.