Love Song (Stage Dive #4.7) - Kylie Scott

One Thousand and One Dark Nights

Once upon a time, in the future…

I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

library at my father’s home and collected thousands

of volumes of fantastic tales.

I learned all about ancient races and bygone

times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

people through the millennium. And the more I read

the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

become part of them.

I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

would not be telling you this tale now.

But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

with bravery.

One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written

and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,

the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand

women.

Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

never occurred before and that still to this day, I

cannot explain.

Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

protect herself and stay alive.

Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

you now.

Playlist

“Somebody That I Used To Know” by Gotye

“Moanin’ At Midnight” by Howlin’ Wolf

“Let It Go” by James Bay

“Ex-Factor” by Lauryn Hill

“Always On My Mind” by Willie Nelson

“Exile” by Taylor Swift feat Bon Iver

“Go Your Own Way” by Fleetwood Mac

“Try” by P!nk

“Chew on My Heart” by James Bay

Chapter One

“No,” said the bodyguard.

“But—”

“Miss, do you have any idea how many people try to get backstage by claiming they have some sort of relationship with Mr. Dillon?” Face a careful blank, the man in the slick black suit stared down at me. He had a point. I’d pushed through a crush of fans, getting my toes stomped on several times, along with taking an elbow to the kidney, just to talk to this guy. God only knew what it took to get near the star of the show.

“I’d imagine a lot,” I yelled back at him. Necessary given the volume of the music filling the space. “The difference here is I’m not lying.”

“But since everyone says that, you can see from my perspective how that’s not actually a point of difference.”

Adam Dillon, rock star extraordinaire, gyrated his slim denim-clad hips like an Alt-Rock Elvis on the nearby stage. He pouted and crooned about the woman who’d done him wrong. Me. That’s right, I was the big bad ex who’d broken him and woke him to the dangers of love. Or so the song said.

The song lied and then some.

According to the lyrics he was currently wailing, I’d ground his heart beneath my five-inch heels before blowing him a kiss goodbye. From memory, there’d been a lot of shouting, but no blowing of kisses. And having just kicked off the flats I wore for work, I’d been barefoot, my legs and back aching. No way had I been strutting around in stilettos. Home from a hard day at the hair salon, I’d returned to find Adam on the couch. The same place he’d been when I’d left for work approximately eleven hours earlier. The same place he’d been for what felt like months as I worked my ass off to pay the rent. That’s when all hell broke loose. However, it wasn’t the only issue that had caused our relationship to bomb. Nothing’s ever simple.

But back to the here and now. I grabbed the slip of paper out of my front pocket, holding it up for his perusal. “My name is Jill Schwartz. How many of those people claiming to know him have one of these?”

His eyes widened as he scanned the name on the check, before widening again at the amount. And fair