The boys made it big with the online music video.

They were going to celebrate their viral success tonight, but Ryland—the idiot who decided to call them all up on this six AM Saturday morning, forced everyone to meet up even earlier for an important occasion.

Sitting on the hood of Paris's truck, HB wrapped her blonde hair in a bun on the top of her head. "This better be good," HB said, arms crossed.

Paris huddled next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He tried to pull her closer, but she shifted away. This made him bring her even closer.

"Oh, it is," Paris cooed.

"Whatever," she said and started drawing on her arm with a permanent marker. She started picking that habit off of Delilah and it was turning into a hobby.

"Can you hurry up and tell us what's going on? I want my coffee soon." Delilah kept looking at Ryland. She sat on the hood of his car, her cowboy boots swinging back and forth.

All three cars were parked by the cliff, Delilah hitching a ride with Paris and HB, Lucan and Brody in the other.

Ryland, who drove by himself, tossed everyone a beer from the cooler he brought which no one declined and cracked his neck. "Well lads." He licked his bottom lip and held the gaze of each member of the band.

"We've come a long way. I've known you all of a while now and I can't fucking believe we'd made money off of our shitty music." They laughed. "I still find it hard to grasp that people like our shit."

He paused, letting that lopsided, crooked smile grow across his lips. "Especially Grammy winning music producer Shaun O'Brian."

The boy's eyes lit up and the guy's jumped off of their cars.

"You're shitting me!" Brody exclaimed.

Lucan punched Ryland in the chest and they laughed, as he fisted his shirt in surprise. "Seriously?!"

"Fuck yeah!" Paris hooted and high fived Brody.

HB and Delilah jumped off the cars and clapped hugging the boys and embracing the warmth they grew among everyone's excitement.

"We just need to give him a call to say if we're in and out of the record deal." Ryland laughed. "It's a shit ton of paper we have to look over though."

"Who fucking cares?!" Paris exclaimed and shook his shoulders. Ryland laughed. "We're gonna be famous!"

"Woo-hoo. More free food for me," HB dryly cheered.

Delilah punched her in the arm, and HB cracked a smile. "Okay, maybe a little happy. For like, 0.2 seconds."

The group spun around, laughing and grinning enough until their cheeks hurt.

But a tension stirred in the clouds, the air growing thick and the eyes of others drew near. Delilah glimpsed at Paris to see if he felt the wrongness too, but the boy was lost in his fun to notice.

+

Delilah should've known something was wrong with that sign.

"This is the worst idea ever," said Ryland as he stood in front of the tattoo parlor.

"I know," said Paris. "That's why we're doing it." He opened the door for HB and she wobbled in, giggling and smelling him before she fell through the door.

In Delilah's eyes, the floor was moving and her hands were twisting and turning and ohmygod—everything felt great. Was this what it felt like to utterly wasted?

The Devil never got drunk. What was happening to her body? Who cared? Thiswasfuckingawesomeohmygodisthatashoe?

"We're gonna get matching tattooooos," Paris said a second—no, minute?—ago. "So no matter what happens, they'll always be together."

Lucan still wore that crooked smile and stepped into the parlor, pocketing his hands.

Ryland let Delilah go first, and she smiled, stepping into the dimly lit room.

A few bulbs were set along the walls, booths at the side. The walls were covered in tattoos, at least thousands of them staring back at Delilah. Most signs she kind of recognized, many of them messy versions of the demon language.

HB was already sitting in a seat, unbuttoning her denim shirt. She stripped it off and grinned at the tattoo artist who took a seat across from her. "I want the whole sleeve!" she said, setting down the flask.

"I want another heart," said Paris, and another man appeared from behind the curtain.

"Of course. Anything for a regular," he cooed and ushered Paris down. "And you brought friends?"

"You know it," Paris said and gave a wink.

The man gleefully clapped his hands and called his employees over in a different language. They flooded past the curtains, grabbing each of them by the wrist and steered them to a seat.

"I thought we were all going to match?" Lucan asked, sitting opposite of HB.

"Fuck that!" HB giggled, legs swinging like a giddy child.

Delilah hesitantly sat down, Ryland sitting next to her with that same uncertain look.

"What are we getting?" she asked as the person slammed a book down in front of her. She flipped through, eyes scanning over beautiful ink designs and words. They started moving over the page and she blinked several times, squinting now.

"This one." Ryland picked his book up and showed it to her.

Her eyes widened. "What does it mean?"

"It means something about heaven and hell—I don't know."

She nodded, and he took the book back. "What about you?"

She shrugged. "Something simple. Maybe a halo because I'm such a good girl."

He laughed, and a rush of warmth tingled across her neck, liking this new kind of heat. Her pocket buzzed, and she pulled out her phone.

MelonHead: Bitch where are you?!

Melon Head: Answer me!! This is important!!

Melon Head: Bitch wherrrrr?

Delilah tapped her thumb across the screen, putting some letters together before hitting send.

She heard Ryland wince, and looked up to see the needle hovering over his arm.

Ryland gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it's not going to hurt—yeowch!" He grabbed Delilah's hand and she clutched back and squeezed it hard as the sharp part touched her skin. "Why the fuck does this hurt?" she seethed.

She didn't even remember placing her arm on the table to get a tattoo.

Paris laughed on the other side of the room. "What are you talking about? This tickles!"

Delilah glared, jaw tight as ever. She glimpsed at the needle on her bone and quickly looked away. When she got tattoos in Hell, it never felt like this.

Ryland grinned and squeezed her hand right back as his needle planted on his wrist too. She glanced up and her cheeks suddenly hurt from smiling. The tension between them grew and he leaned in, kissing the top of her hand. The pain almost vanished, as her cheeks burned.

They grinned, holding each other's hand as the tattoo drew over their arms.

By the time it was done, the skin was red and raw and they still hadn't let go of their hands. Ryland helped Delilah out of the chair and she fell into his arms, the drop bigger than she remembered. She glanced up, her hair just brushing his chin.

"That wasn't so bad," she said.

"Yeah."

They stared into each other's eyes until HB bumped into Delilah, breaking their gaze.

"Sorry," she slurred, hand still gripped around the little flask of alcohol. Her whole arm was beat red from the arm tattoo she just got.

Ryland quickly stepped back at the same time of Delilah, both of their cheeks rosy pink.

Paris's giggled. "You guys should fuck."

HB burst into laughter. Paris smiled at his girlfriend's laugh, and told Delilah and Ryland, "Your babies would be Hell's angels. The world's first Satan and Angel child."

"Paris!" HB scolded and smacked the back of his neck.

Delilah's eyes widened and she quickly averted her gaze away from Ryland who looked alarmed.

"Did you just say Satan?"

+++

A/N:

Cats out of the bag? Whoopsie daisy.

:)

Please vote and comment your thoughts on this story!

I'll be in Nashville, Tennessee for a whole week for an international competition called DECA. Wish me luck—I'll be representing all of Canada with my team.

I'm lowkey so worried, but agh—super excited!

Love you lots!

As this story is ending soon, would you guys be interested in hearing about my next story (it will be released after this one and Villain Academy)?

Xx 3.14