Connected
Preface
I have visited this place many times, but today it’s different. I’m alone. There are no comforting arms around me. My body trembles. Not from the cold, but from the realization of fate. A single tear slowly drips down my face as I look into the night and scream, “Why couldn’t we just stay together?!”
As the wind moans in the distance, thunder crashes and lightning strikes. I stand here just hoping the impeding storm will carry me away and erase the shadow that looms over me. A slow soothing rain falls from the blackened sky, but it provides no relief to my ravaged soul. A mist slowly rises into the night, puddles form in various spots, and the cold air sends shivers down my spine. The dark, the storm—they are both upon me.
I’m a lone figure and I huddle to the ground feeling completely lost. As my tears merge with the rain into one slow dance, they only fall further into the darkness. No one is here to see me. No one knows where to find me. Only the vultures notice me as they fly swiftly overhead, seeking shelter against the cold rain. I’m not looking for refuge in this place I now despise, but I have nowhere else to go. I have no hope. I have no future. This is where I belong—in the darkness.
Prologue
CRAZY
Every time we were there we had fun
There was something special about the place
Sights and sounds echoed throughout the space
And when we’re there we never had a care
We were having the time of our lives.
August 1999…
Every sight and every sound told me this was the best place on earth. The arena was a buzz of activity: music roared through the speakers, electricity filled the air, and nameless people were rushing to find their seats. My father and I stopped quickly to purchase our concert t-shirts. Clutching our tickets tightly, we made our way through the crowd.
The excitement around us was immeasurable, almost indescribable. We sat down, mesmerized by what was before us. Looking at the stage, it was impossible to take everything in. Being so close was intoxicating. I was frozen with shock, and my eyes flickered through the rays of the spotlights as they made their way up the stairs.
Bono encouraged thousands of waving hands and nodding heads. Eventually, I gathered my senses and began to absorb my surroundings just as U2 began to play Beautiful Day. Slipping into an almost hypnotic state, I closed my eyes and swayed to the pulse of the beat as the vibrations penetrated my whole body. I stayed this way throughout most of the concert, just as I had so many times before.
My father was the general manager of The Greek. He loved music, mostly rock, eighties, and nineties. My dad had been going to concerts since he was thirteen and always bought a t-shirt. So to say he had a few concert t-shirts was putting it mildly. He started working at The Greek at a young age and never left simply because he loved his job. He accumulated so many stories and told me of numerous freak events. Having witnessed them first hand, he always knew the inside scoop and would share it with me. I was even lucky enough to have one of the Wear Purple ticket stubs from Prince’s sold-out Purple Rain concert in my possession.
There is one concert that will forever hold a place in my heart. It was the Nirvana benefit concert performed to raise money for Bosnian rape victims. They opened with the very emotional song Rape Me, and while the cause moved me, it was the emotion in the song that made me fall even more in love with music than I already was. After I left the concert that night, The Greek was not only my father’s favorite place to be, but mine too.
My mom was not into music like my dad was; she preferred clothes to concerts. She taught me to sew, and together we made a quilt with the concert t-shirts I outgrew. Between my father and I, we collected over two hundred pieces of chronicled music history.
Trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up was always puzzling. I was torn between my father’s love for music, my mother’s love for fashion, and my love for capturing images of all things beautiful. I thought maybe I’d have a music career or go to the New York School of Fashion and Design like my mother had. Whichever career path I chose needed to lead me toward being able to take pictures. Maybe someday I’d create my own dream job that blended all three!
Chapter One
OUT OF MY HEAD
You’re always in my head
Maybe it’s the way you smile at me
Maybe it’s the way you laugh with me
Maybe it’s that we’ve known each other so long
Thoughts of you are always in my head.
October 2006…
Walking through the greek-lettered doors of Kappa Sigma, I felt like I’d just stepped onto a movie set. It was Halloween, everyone was wearing costumes, holding red Solo cups, and dancing . . . well, not everyone. I looked twice to be certain, but sure as shit, there was a large, dark-blue ice luge in the center of the living room. The guy at the bottom of the channel was my boyfriend, Ben, and the person in line behind him was my best friend, Aerie.I didn’t go to a lot of fraternity parties, and looking at the two of them under the almost kid-sized slide, I now knew why.
Noticing me, Ben shot me a wicked smirk and crooked his index finger, gesturing me toward him. He strode a few steps closer; his gaze holding mine as the crowd cleared the way.
Standing face to face, I could see that his forget-me-not blue eyes were slightly hooded, allowing me only a glimpse of his dilated pupils. His sly grin was still present, which alerted me to his somewhat coherent state of mind.
Raising an eyebrow, I pointed to the dark-blue ice sculpture. “Hey, how many times did you hit that?”
Feigning confusion, he raised his hands palms up. “Not sure,” he said as he cocked his head to one side while shrugging his shoulders.
Ben took the cup out of my hand and set it on the table beside us. He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. “Hey, Dahl. What took so long?” he asked as he rested his strong hands on my ass.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I rested my forehead on his chin and let out a slow sigh. “Photo shoot took longer than expected. Drake had a meltdown when the models’ outfits weren’t the shade of purple he’d asked for.”
Ben groaned and dipped his head to kiss me. “Drake’s a f**kin’ pansy-ass. He better hope you find a new internship for next semester because he’s really starting to piss me off.”
Flinching a little at his words, I leaned back to place my hands on his hard chest before looking into his slightly glazed eyes. “Ben, promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
“Will do. Promise, Dahl,” he chuckled, the smell of alcohol strong on his breath.
I sighed and ran my hands up to his hair, combing my fingers through it.
Looking at me with concern, he whispered, “You okay?”
“Of course. The wrong color purple isn’t really the end of the world.”
He studied me and hesitated before responding. “Dahl, you know that’s not what I mean.”
I stiffened. I knew what he meant, but I didn’t want to talk about the anniversary of my parents’ death.
Ben nodded in acknowledgment, his sly grin returning while he watched me chug the entire contents of the Solo cup before chewing on the ice cubes that were left behind. Beckoning me to the center of the room, he swooshed his arm and pointed to the luge. “This way, gorgeous.”
Having refilled our drinks, we stood at the liquor-filled ice dispenser. The party was in full swing, and I watched Ben hit the luge yet again. I excused myself to use the restroom; I glanced around at the mass of people and pushed through the chaos. There were wall-to-wall people in every room. I stumbled into a tall guy with red hair, and I knew he was beyond drunk when he tried to kiss me. I shoved him and giggled when he tripped over his own feet and fell on his ass. I continued making my way to the stairs. They were covered with a throng of people that were drinking, making out, or doing way more than I ever needed to see.
The room smelled like alcohol mixed with sweat, and I suddenly felt like I couldn’t get out of there soon enough. I had to carefully weave around the crowd on the stairs and was thankful when I finally made it to the bathroom.
After I left the bathroom, I went to Ben’s room for a much needed mental break. This particular day was the hardest one of the year for me, but participating in the party festivities always seemed to help me through it. As I headed toward his bed, I noticed the tickets he gave me this morning. I knew he meant well buying us tickets to see one of my favorite bands, Maroon 5, perform at The Greek. I felt horrible about my knee-jerk reaction. When he gave them to me it was because he thought he would brighten an otherwise dark day for me, but I couldn’t go back there. I experienced such joy there with my dad, and I couldn’t bear it. It would only remind me how much I miss him.
Sighing, I threw myself on the bed. Yes, he meant well and he really wanted to be the one to take me there, but he knew I would never go back. I’ve told him this. When he bought those tickets, he probably thought he could bring back the happiness I once shared there with my father. Sadly, I haven’t been back to The Greek since I was fourteen years old and went to the U2 concert. It was the last concert I went to with my family before my mother, my aunt, and my father died in a small plane crash coming home from Mexico. So, going back to The Greek can never bring me happiness, only sadness at the loss of my family and my longing to have them back. I’m not sure how long I stayed in his room thinking about my parents until I finally decided to rejoin the party.
I stopped in the kitchen to grab a third beer, and then I headed back into the living room. All the lights had been turned off and orange candles glowed everywhere as the sound of haunting music filled the room.
I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist and Ben nibbled on my ear. “Where you been, Dahl?”
“Just grabbing a beer,” I answered, holding my Solo cup up in the air and twisting around in his arms.
Loud screams diverted my attention back to the ice luge where Aerie was jumping up and down, grabbing her throat, and squealing as if in pain. Motioning my head toward her, I set my cup down on the banister. “What’s she drinking?”
Clutching his arms tighter around my hips, he pulled me closer to him. As he slipped his long fingers inside the waistband of my black leggings, he fingered the lace of my panties and whispered in my ear, “Don’t know.” Then he placed one of his legs between mine and asked, “Want some?”
I shook my head no and was nearly panting as I responded. “I promised Aerie I’d go with her to the bar and listen to some new band. One of us should stay somewhat lucid—at least until we get there.”
He trailed his hands across the top of my panties; the fingertips of his one hand grazed from my backside across to my hipbone. Before I knew what was happening, his fingers started drifting down into the front of my pants.