Chapter 1: Introduction
Winter Blaze called out a greeting as he dropped his keys into the antique silver dish by the doorway, and tossed his studded leather jacket over the red velvet upholstered Victorian chair in the apartment he shared with Romeo St. Clair, his lover, and lead guitarist.
No answer came. Shapely brows knitted. He should have been home by now. Romeo had only had a half day at the record store he worked at as a day job while they devoted themselves to making a career in music.
A pang of anxiety rippled through Winter. The emptiness of the apartment felt wrong somehow "Romeo?" Winter called again, his voice quivering slightly. The silence was deafening. Swallowing hard, he crossed the worn Persian rug beneath his feet and opened the door to the bedroom.
It was untouched. Their collection of vintage vinyl records stood neatly arranged on the shelves. He didn't have any reason for worrying, not really. Romeo could have been late for any number of reasons. He might have stopped to grab something for their dinner, or met a friend for a coffee before making his way back to Winter, and yet... he couldn't shake the feeling of unease in his gut.
He raked a hand through his long honey blond hair, determined to make himself believe he was being silly when he saw an envelope on the dresser, on it was his own name in Romeo's familiar scrawl.
Romeo must have been home and gone back out, he picked it up and opened it. The reasonable part of him told him it would be a note, an explanation of Romeo's absence and yet he still couldn't shake that feeling of dread.
The first time he read the note he almost couldn't process the words. It was Romeo's handwriting, but the words were vicious in a way that he'd never known Romeo to be even at his most cutting.
Winter, if I'd said anything to you before I went I know you would have made a scene, so I'm writing you a note instead. Let's be honest, you've got the looks for a bubble gum pop act, but you're about as punk rock as mom and apple pie. You're too sweet, too inexperienced, too wide eyed for me, and for the kind of music I want to make. I don't want to hurt you, but this just isn't working. I'm taking my clothes. Anything else in the place you can keep.
- Romeo .
The letter fluttered from Winter's trembling hand, landing face up on the carpet, as if daring him to look upon those heartless words once more. What did they mean? How could Romeo say such things so casually? "Too sweet, too inexperienced, too wide eyed..." Winter muttered softly, the words ringing like cruel bells in his ears. His chest tightened as the reality of what he'd read began to sink in.
The anger that surged through him nearly choked him. He crumpled the note in his fist, his knuckles white against the paper. "This can't be real," he thought, willing himself to dismiss the harsh words as the bitter rantings of a tired and jealous lover. But deep down inside, he knew that Romeo wouldn't go to such lengths to humiliate him unless he truly meant every word.
He collapsed onto the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks, hot and stinging. He couldn't understand how everything could change so quickly.
One moment he was sharing meals, kisses, and dreams with Romeo; now there was nothing left. The emptiness of the apartment seemed to echo the hollow ache within his chest. Winter pushed the remnants of the note away with the edge of his sleeve as he pulled himself together.
He paced the length of the room, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to push the pain aside. It wasn't fair. He'd poured his all into their relationship, their band, and now he was alone. How could Romeo do this to him?
How could he betray their love, their dreams, their music? Winter's sadness transformed into a burning inferno of rage and determination. He would show Romeo that he was more than just a pretty face; he was a force to be reckoned with. As his fury grew, he began to pace the room, his thoughts racing.
In that moment, Winter Blaze decided to create a solo album, a masterpiece that would showcase his talent and prove Romeo wrong. He would rise above the hurt and become a legend in the music scene. He would show Romeo that he was an artist in his own right, and that he could succeed without him.
Winter grabbed his guitar and started strumming, letting the emotions flow through him. The notes danced around him, creating a symphony of pain and passion. He began to write a song, channeling his anger and determination into the lyrics.