Relax {Thirty-Five}

                                    

                                          

"All the torment and the pain,
Leaked through and covered me..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
⚠️Parts of this chapter are definitely 18 ⚠️
If you are not into that, skip a little past that part. You'll know when it's there.
Happy reading <3
————
Sal finishes his song, looking over at my dad who continues to play his guitar.
"B," he chuckles, waving at my father. "I'm done. That was it."
My dad abruptly stops playing, putting his hands on his hips. "Well, you kept adding lyrics so I started to assume you had more to push out," Daemon says, narrowing his eyes at Sal.
Sal laughs a bit louder, holding his hands up in surrender. I wish I could see his smile, especially after the masterpiece he just sang. "Sorry. Spur of the moment reconsideration," he says, shrugging.
I feel hands on my shoulders that squeeze lightly. I turn my head to see Ash towering over me and staring at the stage with parted lips and a starstruck look on her face. So she and I feel the same exact way apparently. 
"Ash," I whisper-yell, trying to get her attention without alerting the people around us.
The viridian-eyed beauty looks down at me, her eyes still wide. Pupils blown out like she's riding the best high of her life. "Emilie, he is whipped. Give him a child."
I flinch slapping a hand onto my face to hide the raging blush. Give him a child. "Ash, what the fuck!" I spit out, stumbling over my words when my voice cracks. "I am eighteen, you must be out of your damn mind."
"He'd find a way to give you three at once, Emsy. I'm not kidding. He's so whipped that triplets wouldn't be a chance, they'd be assured--"
"That's enough!" I squeak out, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to tune out the memory of her words as Chaotic Primordial starts playing Duality by Slipknot. I guess they decided to do an extra cover. Everyone is riled up and it tunes out my raging thoughts, but only momentarily.
Halfway through the song, my dad picks up his guitar and takes over for Sal when he jumps off of the stage-- walking in front of the barricades and taking pictures with fans and whatnot.
I watch him, the way he adopts his popularity like he's been living this way all his life. The way his sweaty cerulean hair sticks to his prosthetic. How his bruised and cut up fingertips look when he high fives, hugs, and shakes hands with the people beside us.
He throws up a peace sign for every picture he takes with fans, quickly rushing past to get to everyone he can.
I want to vomit when a girl hugs him then keeps her arms wrapped around his neck once Sal pulls away. She looks up at him, mouth set in a wide smile as she yells something that makes him laugh. She leans forward and pecks the side of his prosthetic.
No, I'm not jealous. He just wrote a beautiful song about me.
Even when Sal gets closer to Ash, Larry, Travis, and I-- I'm not jealous, especially when I haphazardly yell, "Sally Face, I'm a huge fan!"
Even when he turns his head upon recognizing my voice. I'm still not jealous when I notice how visible the pink lipgloss stain is on his prosthetic cheek. 
"Sign my titties!"
I don't think much about my words, but all of my friends flinch away from me, even Sal. His bright blue eyes are wide beneath his prosthetic, filled with barely veiled amusement.