PhantomRhymes

Chapter-1: ScreamsIntoTheWind

The night started in Aliyah's apartment, an eclectic space half-lit by orbiting glow orbs and soundtracked by a playlist that bounced between galactic jazz and old-school R&B. The kind of place where style hangs on racks like art and secrets are poured over glasses of chilled plum liqueur.

Tresa was the first to claim the mirror, lips outlined in molten copper. Livia, sprawled on the couch, trying on earrings like they were weapon mods.

Meka danced barefoot on the tiles, a bottle of body glitter in one hand and a speaker remote in the other.

Aliyah? She took her time.

In her room, the black dress gleamed, sleek, sleeveless, cut like it was grown from shadow. Her curls were twisted high and tight, silver cuffs locking them in place like a crown. She slid on her boots, matte with silver detailing, and checked the time. Daze always called on performance nights. He never missed.

Outside, waiting like a beast of nostalgia and fury, was her ride.

A 2009 Chevy Camaro Drop Top—black as midnight oil, still purring like it just rolled off Earth’s last production line. She had rebuilt it herself, retrofitted for atmosphere shift and boosted with a clean energy core. But the leather was still original. Still smelled like summers and rebellion.

“Shotgun!” Meka yelled as they burst out of the apartment, heels clicking like war drums.

“Girl, you wish,” Livia laughed, sliding into the front seat with a wink at Aliyah.

They pulled off into the city night, neon reflecting off the Camaro’s polished hood, top down, hair catching wind like flags of freedom.

The engine growled with every shift, turning heads as they merged into downtown traffic. The streets weren’t ready.

Aliyah didn’t talk much during the drive. Just smiled while the others sang and screamed into the wind, her hand gripping the wheel like it was the only thing tethering her to now. The lights of the concert venue came into view like a slow sunrise.

She could already feel him there.

Daze.