Mezzanine

| 16 |

All the blood in my body ran cold. Lola's hazel eyes bore into mine as her mascara mixed with rainwater, creating inky lines down her cheeks.

I swallowed the lump clinging like glue in my throat. There was no getting out of this.

"The board didn't always have a second side." I finally began. "Damien painted the front side—the familiar one—when we were kids. I was eleven and he was thirteen. We used to play with it together, pretending to contact spirits and talk with them."

Lola tilted her head, a small frown furrowing her brow. She blinked, but she kept her attention on me. What was she thinking? Did she think it was strange? Creepy?

"Maybe that's weird." I forced a dry laugh. "But it was...fun."

I picked at the paint on my hands, flaking it away from my skin. When I was a kid, I loved dipping my fingers in glue and letting it dry so I could peel it away. There was something calming about the feeling of removing the tack. It was like I was a snake, shedding my skin.

"Damien wasn't just my brother," I continued. "He was my best friend, and I looked up to him. I idolized him. It made me feel cool, I guess, getting to spend time with my older brother."

I chewed on the insides of my cheeks, turning my gaze away from Lola and to the drops of rain racing each other down the fogging windshield. "Things started changing when we got older. Damien made a lot of new friends, and he'd bring me along with him to parties. That was about the time he started painting the backside of the board.

"We shared a bedroom, and I remember going in one night while he was working on it. His girlfriend at the time was asleep on his bed, and he was kneeling on the floor painting something. I asked him what it was."

"Jay, come over here." Damien beckoned me.

I did as he wanted and sat cross-legged on the floor next to him. Wet paint glistened on the back of the board, and red and black streaks stained the sides of his hands and fingers.

"What are you making?" I stared at the symbols he'd painted in a ring and the three-tailed hurricane shape at the center of it all. "It looks sick as fuck."

"Thanks," Damien replied, his gaze transfixed on the design. "I wanted to make this for a while—a second side to our board. One that doesn't just contact spirits." His blue eyes flicked to meet mine, flashing almost red in the dim light of our room as a devious smile formed on his face. "It's to contact something darker. It's the demon side."

The shapes and angles of the designs were raw, violent and hypnotizing. I couldn't look away. I wanted to take in every idea and thought behind them.

"What are they?" I asked, finally turning to meet Damien's eyes. "What do they mean? How did you come up with them?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I just see them in my head, and then I paint them."

"That's fucking wild," I said.

"Right?" Damien grinned at me. "So fucked up." He shoved my shoulder playfully.

"When will it be ready?" I asked. "We have to try it out."

Damien exhaled heavily, pushing himself to his feet as he collected his paint brushes and the jar of murky water. "This isn't a toy, Jay," he said. He ran one hand back through his long, dark hair to push it out of his face. "I don't want you playing with it."

Hurt boiled inside me, my hands involuntarily clenching in fists. We'd always used the board together. It was the one thing Damien shared with me and no one else.