All Chapters of Destroy Me: RAZE: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Being part of Raze’s music production team has always been my dream job. Free lattes, awesome company, a great creative outlet, and most importantly, I get to work with the world’s most popular boy band right now. Not to mention they are all smokin’ hot. Imagine being around five of the hottest alpha males on the planet and getting paid. Who wouldn’t kill for that job right? Especially that one guy with the slightly crooked front tooth that I’ve come to find incredibly captivating. I’ve always watched him. How his body moved when he dances; how his lips purse before turning into a smile when he tries to fight it; how he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back in joy at the simplest things; how he looks so confident and charming even when he’s just standing there, hands in his pockets, sunglasses over his eyes, and a bored expression on his face. That sounds incredibly stalkerish of me but he’s just so sexy. Even the sound of his voice is sexy. The way he controls his breath

It takes one hair sweep from Ethan to make me fall in love with him on the spot. He didn’t even do anything cool! He just pushed his hair back, revealing his glorious forehead and I feel my heartbeat a mile a minute. It makes me question how deep my feelings for Ethan are, but I'm pretty confident in myself that I could still manage my feelings just fine. At this proximity, looking up to him is starting to make my neck hurt, so I quickly fixed that and stared at his shoes. It's just a crush, Keira. Calm down. I tell myself over and over until I could believe it. This will pass. It has to because I cannot afford to pine for a guy who would never go me. Guys like Ethan go for girls like Rina. Ethan's shoes are nothing like the rest of him. Where all over his body, new and designer items adorn him, his shoes are simple and plain; and if you ask me, they look kind of worn out. He seems to sense the question in my head before I could even form it. "I don't use designer training shoes beca

“And that was our very own DJ Brandy everyone!” The crowd’s cheers are deafening, along with some whines of disappointment. I can't blame them. I would be disappointed too if the best DJ was leaving for the night. I’ve been part of Club Myth’s DJ line-up for four months now, under the stage name Brandy. And again, like every other time that I'm spinning, tonight's Friday crowd is mesmerized. Ask anybody in the club to describe how they’re feeling as they move to my beats, to my music, and they’d answer like they are high on aphrodisiacs having the best sexual experience of their lives. That’s what Friday nights are all about anyway, it’s one of those nights where people flock into the club to get laid, and I had to match them with my music. With sensual sounds and heavy bass accompanying the strong, sexy dancers on the stage. It's also one of those nights when I let my music borrow my own voice to add to the crowd’s stimulation. Singing, humming, whispering, and at times moaning in

I ran out of there so fast, I could feel my heart pound in my ears and my lungs burned from the exertion. I was mortified. If I was avoiding Ethan before like the plague, now I was seriously contemplating resigning from work and moving to a different state. I couldn’t even imaging going into work tomorrow and bumping into him. Of all the people who could walk in on me in the dance practice room it had to be Ethan Reed. Surely, this must be some kind of a joke. If the universe is playing tricks, please let it be known I'm done playing. I only stop running when I made it out of the building. The oncoming traffic of pedestrians walking on the sidewalk made it impossible to keep running. Still breathing heavily, I raise my hand high up in hopes of hailing a cab quickly. I normally take the bus or the subway but I need a quick and effective exit in case Ethan decides to follow me out into the street. I don't dare look back until I was safe behind the doors of my apartment and the lock bo

“Do I really have to do this?” I whine to Chris as we drive to my gig. We haven't even arrived but I know this party will be filled with obnoxious VIPs and rich people. I mean who hosts a party outside the city? Big-shot celebrities, that's who. “Yes, you really have to do this,” Chris replies, looking over at me briefly from the driver's seat. “You already agreed to do it, and besides we’re almost there, you can’t back out now.” I sure can! But I don't say that aloud. I know I can't back out now, I was just being a brat over it. I hated doing parties because people expected you to interact with them, before, after, and during the set. And the kinds of people at these kinds of parties are those I hate the most. I'm not trying to hate on people in high society but they make it hard not to. “But the people there will want to talk to me,” I whine even more. “Shut up, Brandy. You’re going to be fine.” Chris replies obviously done with me. Sometimes, I feel sorry for Chris on his behalf