The new singer.

"Why do you make that sound?"

He takes of the headphone. "What sound?"

"That breathing sound...you breathe as if...you know."

I blush and walk away.

"I sing!" he calls after me then laughs. That laugh gives me the quivers. Every sound he makes does that. I have to get out of here.

I climb the stairs. Get into the kitchen and pour a glass of water. I put my wrists under the streaming water. My mother always said that calms you down.

"Pebble, count to ten and put your wrist under the tab."

I take a deep breath and go downstairs again.

"When are you ready?" I ask my brother who sits on the old worn couch, rolling a joint.

The new singer is sitting on the floor, flipping through a notebook and looks up as I pass.

"Can I have a sip of your water?" He asks.

I bow and hand him my glass. He drinks. Empties the glass.

"Sorry." He gives me back the glass. "Why are you wet?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why are your sleeves wet?"

"While getting that water from the toilet pot."

He sticks his finger in his throat. Pretends to puke.

"You're funny." He reaches out and strokes my leg. "Why do you hate me?"

I look down at him.
He has a dimple. His lips are pink. His hair is unkempt, long waves. He wears a white tank. He is skinny, yet he has muscles. Tribal bracelets around his wrists. Golden boy. Californian golden boy, surfer dude. He combs his hair behind his ear, smiles uncertain, his other hand still on the calf of my leg.

I know I stare.

"I don't hate you. My guess is you're one of those wannabe rock stars. And if not you'll be gone the next day, just like...."

"Pebble, please," my brother interrupts. "Don't bitch."

"I'm sorry." I look at the empty glass. "Shall I get you another one?"

"If you can show me where I can get it when I'm thirsty. Tried drinking from the loo earlier but the smell choked me."

I smile. "I'll show you around."

"Oh and Pebble?" My brother says. "Show him the guestroom too. He'll be staying for a while."

He arrived early this morning. I was in the shower when the doorbell rang. Nobody opened as usual, so I went.

He was small, wore a guitar on his back and an old suitcase in his hand. The collar of his thick coat was up. The backward cap on his head hid his hair. He looked cold, and lost.

First he looked at me, in only a towel, and then bashfully to his toes. He softly introduced himself as the new singer. I hardly heard him. And then he went straight into the basement to rehearse with my brother and the rest of the band. When I got dressed I went down too. I often listen to the band practising.

The old band. Now the new band.

I leaned against the wall with my eyes closed. The new guy started singing after my brother played the cords of a song they wrote earlier. No words. Just breathing. He, he doesn't sing lyrics. He makes a kind of breathing, wailing sound. It is not embarrassing to hear, it is a pure sound. Like that of an angel. But I feel it in my belly too. Thumping butterfly. I don't want that feeling. It is uninvited.

They practise all morning and afternoon. They sound really good. There is laughter too. It had been a while since there was joy in this building. I watch him. And sometimes catch him watching me. Then we look away. I pretend to go through a magazine.

Then one by one they leave. The bass player ruffles my hair as he always does. I am his best friends kid sister. But I'm hardly a kid, though. In a couple of days I'll leave for college. I auditioned and am in dance class now. The academy accepted me.

The new singer is still there. Humming, plucking his guitar, writing down things. And I look at him. Listen to him. He shouldn't be here. Making that sound.

"Why do you make that sound?"

He follows me to the kitchen. Leans against the counter.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks again.

I  study his arms. The inside of his arms. He sees me staring. Lifts one arm closer to my face. No marks. I look up, into his eyes.

"I don't do drugs," he says softly. "If that is what you're afraid of."

I shrug. "That's up to you. I don't care. Just don't want another junk around my brother. He can't handle that." I know I sound harsh.

He touches my face. Delicately strokes my jaw with his fingers.

"Did you love him?"

I nod. Look away.

"Like a brother."

One finger swipes away a tear that was slowly rolling over my cheek.

"He won't be forgotten."

I swallow loudly.

"You can not replace him."

"I have no intention of doing so." He says, a bit angry now.

I snort.

"Hey," he says with this deep voice - friendly now, "will you show me the guestroom?"

In the middle of the night, I get out of bed because I hear noise coming from the kitchen. Carefully I tiptoe through the corridor. There are no lights, but I know there must be someone. Something is being kicked over and I hear muttering. I reach for the switch and in the middle of the kitchen is our guest, on his knees, with narrowed eyes and a package of milk in his hands. He only wears a pair of boxer shorts.

"What on earth are you doing, kitty cat? Looking for a bowl?"

"Meow." He responds.

I get on my knees too. "Have you any idea what time it is?"

He stares at my bare legs, at my breasts. I forgot to put on a bathrobe and now I feel almost naked.

"Nice tee," he grins.

"It's plain and white. Nothing on it."

"Yes." He says. "Possibilities."

"No."

"No?" He smiles, lifts one brow, questioning.

I feel very warm suddenly. We are sitting on the kitchen floor, on our knees, across each other. Weird.

Suddenly he lifts his hand, stretches a finger and touches me. Draws a line from between my breasts to my navel, lingering there. Then up again. Lifting my t-shirt. He puts down the carton of milk he was still holding. Moves a bit closer towards me. Only the length of his finger between us. I can feel his body heat radiating on my naked belly. Up close I can see he has  darker rings around his irises, in the blue sea of his right eye is a brown spot, like an island. And he has insanely long lashes.

He moves his finger higher, further up. Leaving my breasts bare. Then he takes off my tee completely. I lift my arms to help him do it.

"I will keep this. Put something on it. It will be a surprize."

Again he draws with his finger. I am a canvas apparently. He draws circles around one of my nipples, careful not to touch it. But I'm highly sensitive and the nipple hardens till it almost hurts.

"You're beautiful." He says, and he bends his head to press the tip of his tongue against my perky boob, breathing out and making that sound again.

I shiver.

"Are you cold?"

"A bit."

He grabs both of my arms, presses them against my sides and squeezes me tightly.

He doesn't do anything. Just holds me. His warmth is quite pleasing. We breathe together, quietly. His face is in my neck. I can feel his penis through his boxers, though. It is hard.

"How old are you?" He whispers.

"Why?"

"I've got to know."

"Don't worry," I say and teasingly rub my hips against him.

He makes a soft groaning sound. His hands start gliding over my back, lower, my buttocks, kneading them. I move my head so that my lips touch the corner of his mouth.

"Kiss me," I say.

When he opens his mouth to kiss me, our tongues meet and it feels like lighting struck.

His lips are soft and his tongue is warm and playful. Our kiss is deep and passionate. Sometimes our teeth collide. Unaccustomed to each other but eager. He no longer kneads my butt but holds my face in his two hands. I watch him. His lashes are incredible. Resting on his cheeks. I tangle my fingers in his long beautiful hair. Let my hands climb down along his back and tug my thumbs in the rim of his boxers, pulling them down.

But he stops me.

"We shouldn't."

I take one of his hands, lead it to my wet panties.

"We should." I urge, moving against his fingers.

He pulls my panties aside. Touches my smooth vulva, moving his fingers against me. Stimulating my clit. I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning heavy, spread my legs and push against his hand and hips. I pant and sigh.

"Come on."

He fumbles gawky at his boxers and frees his erect shaft. Then he lifts my butt and gently forces his way into me. We do not move at first. We kiss. Slowly, exploring.

Then I start moving my hips and he starts thrusting. One hand on the small of my back.

Long strokes, quietly moaning and making that sound again. In my ears, making me meow like cat.

"We shouldn't." He groans.

"I know."

"I can't stop."

"We should." I moan, pushing him of me. "Drawer." I pant and gesture at the counter drawer.

He gets up and opens the drawer. Takes out a package of condoms. Waves them it at me. Then he lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder.

"Yours or mine?"

"Yours," I giggle.

He sprints to the guestroom, with me over his shoulder.  Seemingly effortless. Then he drops me on the bed, stares at me with a weird grin on his face.

Falls to his knees and pulls my legs apart. He licks the inside of my knees, up my tights, his hair stroking me. His impish eyes follow the expressions on my face. He takes down my panties, fumbles them under his pillow. He sticks one finger in me. Moving it in and out. Watching me. Watching me push my head in the pillow and arch my back.

"You're so hot and wet. Cooking." He whispers.

He stands up. Pulls down his boxers all the way and steps out of them. He is like a statue come to life. Beautiful. He is a small guy but his penis is huge. He touches himself, glides his hand over from the top to the base, making himself even harder.

"Do you want it." He says.

"Yes."

"How bad."

"Real bad."

With a smile he takes a condom from the package and puts it on. Comes on the bed with me, slides his arm under me and moves his mouth over my breasts and takes a nipple between his lips. He sucks on it as he enters me. Then throw his head in his neck, making that wonderful hair dance on his shoulders. He gasps as he bangs me.

I wrap my legs around his hips. I clench him. He kneads my breast, pinches the nipple.

"Yes, fuck me real hard." I whimper loud.

"Shhhh." He puts a hand on my mouth. Replaces it for his mouth.

He moves deep into me. I lift my hips high to feel him even deeper.

He strikes once, twice. Slow, with vibrant energy. My nails claw in his butt. His tight little butt. I gasp on his mouth.

He stops and turns me around. Enters me from behind. Holding me up with an arm around my waist. I lean with my hands against the wall, to steady myself. He slides one hand between my legs, rubbing my clitoris as he thrusts inside me. I cry out and orgasm.

He breathes heavy and then wails, makes that sound again. Wraps both of his arms around me and squeezes me tightly, kissing me on my shoulders and neck.

"I think I love you." He chuckles with his deep voice.

I laugh.

Then we fall asleep.

I wake because I hear my brother singing in the shower. I look beside me and see he is awake too, he is watching me, with sleepy eyes.

"Hi." He says with a bed voice, caressing my cheek. "Come here." He pulls me on him. I can feel his morning erection. He strokes my back. He looks so cute. His hair a mess, one arm above his head, under the pillow. I put my nose in his armpit. Spicy.

I kiss it. Tastes spicy too, and salt. I look at his beautiful curved mouth. Trace his lips with the top of my fingers. I grabs his rod, work it, up and down. He closes his eyes, he frowns his well shaped brows, his mouth opens, his breathing becomes brokenly. I put a finger in his mouth. He sucks it, opens his eyes, his pupils are large. Endless black depth.
On the nightstand lies the package of condoms. I take one and roll it over his penis. I climb on him, sit on top and slide over his shaft.

I am still a bit dry and he is big. But he gasps and I carefully start moving, getting rougher at every penetration. I really want to satisfy him. I can not stop staring at him. Every move I make, his face is a grimace of lust. And then I see the whites of his eyes as they roll backward. He bites his lip and then breaths out with a ferocious groan. He shudders as he spills his seed. Endless.

Then he smiles at me, gives me the sweetest look ever, impish though. Pushes me of him, turns me on my back and disappears under the sheets. Between my legs.

"What are you doing?" I giggle. I pull away the sheets.

His hands are on my thighs, pushing them apart. Then I feel his warm mouth on my mound. I gasp for air. Nobody ever kissed me there.

His tongue licks my slit. I clasp the sheets. He sucks my clit, I start meowing. My fingers toss his hair. Laughing, he takes my arms, shoves them under me, holds them there so my hips are higher and my back is arched. Oh that feeling. I am a bit embarrassed, but that overwhelming feeling makes me float. I know he looks at me, but I don't care that I pull faces, I just don't want him to stop. Ever.

He hands follow the curve of my body, upward, over my belly, to my breasts. He kneads them, massaging my nipples with his thumb. I lift my head, gasping, look into his ocean coloured eyes, drop my head back and I scream, I scream his name.

It is 10 o'clock. We need to get out of bed. He needs to practise. I know the rest of the band is already in the basement. His head is on my belly. I stroke his hair. I have never been more happy. He is so beautiful. I kiss him and leave the room.

I take a quick shower, get dressed and go to the kitchen. My brother is there. With his best friend. They look at me weird. My brother has a worried look though.

He says. "You should know he has a girlfriend."

I almost drop my coffee mug and turn away to the counter. I bite my lip to supress my tears.

"I know." I shrug.

Then I run to my own room. Pack my bag, carelessly throw my things in it.  On my way back to the kitchen I see the door to the guestroom is ajar. I look inside. He is still there. Asleep.

I drop my bag in the hallway.

"I'm ready." I say to my brother. "Will you bring me to the station?"

"Are you going already?" He asks.

"Yes," I respond, "semester starts in two days. I want to prepare.

I don't want to spoil this chance since I got selected for the dance class."

"I'll miss you." His best friend, the bass player hugs me.

"No, you won't. You'll be to busy recording, with the new guy. You'll do fine."

"Will you come and watch us when we start touring?"

"Maybe."

We hug and my brother takes my bag.

At the station he lifts my chin and looks me in the eyes.

"You're okay?"

"Sure." I fight my tears.

"Do you want me to kick him out?"

"No!"

"I will you know, if he's hurt you."

"No. It was just sex. No big deal. I'm just a little slut. He looks good, that's all."

I laugh a bit to loud.

"Don't let this thing I did spoil it for the band. He seems an ok guy.

There is this chemistry between you all. I know you'll make it. You belong together. Give him that chance.

I know he's going to be a star some day. If only you let him.

Let's just never talk about this. It makes me feel awkward. Okay?

Just forget it. I know I will." I swallow and snort when I stop talking.

"You're my brave little sister." He holds me, pets me on the back. "I will make sure he will never be around you again."

"Bye, bro."

"Bye, sis."

Semester has started. New faces, new challenges. Dance class makes me work hard.

I do not think back much.

And when I do I feel this large butterfly roaming inside me. Making me feel empty.

When I walk to the dorm, the concierge hands me a package.

The return address is Seattle, my brothers place. Eagerly I open it.
No note, nothing.

Just a white t-shirt. My own t-shirt. But it has markings on it now. A drawing, a lot of words written on it, mostly unreadable and crossed out.

And only one word is still readable, one word in the centre of the tee. Visible, explicit, big letters.

The word is:

 BLACK