Renegade Hearts (Rebels of Sandland 1) - Page 5

When we reached the side of the building and saw what he was looking at, we all gasped. Finn had painted what appeared to be a blasted hole in the wall. The effect of the brickwork crumbling looked so real it was as if you could climb through it. But it was what was pictured inside the hole that was heart-stopping, jaw-dropping, utterly amazing and disturbing at the same time. He’d painted a field like nothing I’d ever seen before. An urban futuristic landscape where trees were mechanical monstrosities, flowers looked like spiked weapons ready to cut you if you went near, and grass as grey and desolate as any wasteland. A beautifully broken barren land; a hostile hell. Was this how he saw the world around him? A reflection of his warped mind?

Liv was the first to break the silence.

“So, what do you call this then? A cruel world or Alice in doomsday land?”

Finn huffed and shook his head, not looking our way as he spoke. “Come on an urban safari, have you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, cocking my head and narrowing my eyes at him. I knew he was mocking us, and I wasn’t gonna let him get away with it.

“You know damn well what it means. You’re slumming it for the night. Keep your eyes peeled, you might spot some hoodies, a few low-lives maybe, and if you’re really lucky, someone who even works for a living.”

“You know nothing about us,” Effy said in our defence, beating me to it.

“And I don’t want to know. If I throw a stick will you go away? You’re messing with my creative flow.” He carried on gazing at his masterpiece like he was waiting for the damn thing to tell him the meaning of life.

“Jesus, sorry we disturbed you. You’re clearly disturbed enough already.” Liv scoffed. “Come on, girls. Let’s leave Banksy’s little brother, Wanksy, to his painting. Wanksy? You need to calm down. Take a breath and maybe hold it for ten or twenty minutes.” Liv strutted away, not listening to the sarcastic retort that Finn was no doubt aiming her way.

I hoped we’d get a better reception when we finally made it into the party, but something told me that Finn Knowles was just the warm-up act. There was a reason me and my friends were never invited to these things. We were the town exiles. The good girls. Well tonight, good girls were going bad.

We reached the beaten-up metal doors that led into the venue, if you could call a discarded warehouse that, and waited for the bouncer on the door to let us through.

“Got your phone message to show me, ladies?” he said, looking between the three of us suspiciously. I was rubbish at hiding my guilt, so I shuffled my feet and prayed one of the others had a good explanation.

“Oh, shit. I knew I forgot something. I’m such an airhead. Could you let us through anyway? Just this once?” Liv batted her eyelids and he shrugged, not really giving a fuck that we didn’t have the right means to get in. Good save, Liv.

“Suppose. Don’t do it again though.”

We paid him the entrance fee and he grabbed our hands, one after the other, and stamped us with an ugly black mark to show we’d gone through his rigorous checks. I would say it showed we belonged here, but I felt as far out of my comfort zone as I’d ever been.

As we stepped past him and into the main area, the sound of the music was deafening. All three of us stood still just to take it all in. The place was packed. There were people everywhere, dancing, drinking, letting go and not giving a damn. Sure, the floors were sticky with spilt drinks and goodness knows what else. The smell of sweat and stale beer hung in the air like a thick fog and took some time to get used to. The walls were grey, and the windows mostly broken or boarded up, but if you looked carefully, you could see artwork Finn had created, dotted around. There were strobe lights cutting through the dusty air, making the whole atmosphere come alive. From dirt and ashes they had created something magical. It was electric. Soul-lifting even. I’d never expected it to feel like this.

I glanced around and spotted Zak Atwood in the far corner of the warehouse with his headphones on. His dark floppy hair fell into his eyes as he nodded along to the beat. I’d expected to see a sea of girls swarming around him, but a few guys stood close by to where h

e was working, keeping the girls at bay. Zak was in the zone; his face a picture of concentration as he mixed U.K. grime with old school hits seamlessly. I was mesmerised by him. The sounds he was playing were calling out to everyone here. When he switched up the beat the crowd cheered. He was their messiah, this was his church, and everyone here was his faithful congregation.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Effy smiled. “Do you think he ever comes out from behind there to mingle?”

“If he does, I’ll make sure you’re the first one he talks to.” Liv shoved Effy forward and we pushed our way further into the party. I could tell Liv was itching to get going, dance, and really let go. Effy was more like me, a little more guarded and still taking it all in.

A few people turned and stared for a moment as I walked past. I wasn’t dressed like them, but they were polite enough to turn away after a second take. I smoothed my sweaty palms down my skirt and tried not to let my anxious thoughts and self-conscious mind get to me.

“You look cute, Ems. Head high, girl. There’s a guy over there wearing a Chris de Burgh T-shirt. I really think you’ve got nothing to worry about. Obviously, anything goes here if his choice of music and fashion is anything to go by,” Liv said, grinning at me.

I glanced over to where she was looking, and sure enough, some guy was throwing some very random shapes and wearing his throwback eighties statement with pride. His long curly hair was flying in all directions as he let go like it was nineteen-ninety-nine and he was at a Prince concert. I must’ve been staring for way longer than was socially acceptable, as I suddenly noticed him wink at me and thrust his hips suggestively.

Not tonight, pal. Tonight is not your lucky night.

We started to make our way around the event, pushing through the throngs of revellers. I was sure Liv and Effy felt like they blended in, but I didn’t. I felt like a round peg trying to fit into a square hole. I didn’t like feeling this way, and I decided that after tonight I needed to make some changes. I had to take back control. I wanted my life to be mine. Maybe this party wouldn’t end up being as lame as I thought it would be. Maybe it’d be the kick up the backside that I needed to sort my shit out?

The music changed, becoming darker, eerie almost, and the slow steady beats penetrated through me like it was trying to shock my body into life. I looked around, watching people dancing and swaying, oblivious to everything and lost in their world, but for me it felt like a wake-up call. I was on high-alert and I couldn’t relax.

My mouth went dry and I tried to swallow, but it felt like sandpaper scraping down my throat. Something felt off. I was nervous, but at the same time, I wasn’t about to let this place get the better of me. I wanted to experience this, and I needed to find out more. Find out what it was about these parties and the four men behind them that had everyone in Sandland so transfixed.

“Do you have anything to drink?” I shouted to Liv and Effy over the music, but they both shook their heads.

“I left mine in the car, sorry.” Effy gave me a remorseful smile and a shrug then carried on dancing.

I glanced around, looking for a bar or drinks station, anything that could help to ease my scratchy sore throat.

Tags: Nikki J. Summers Rebels of Sandland Romance
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