by Lux, Vivian
Pepper unrolled an elegant middle finger. Lily laughed and sniffled. Jax shot me a look over his shoulder. "That's a good sign, dude. If you can get through to Lily, you're golden. I wrote her a song that took an entire fucking year to get to her."
Lily started squawking something over the intercom, but I wasn't listening. I was thinking about what I had just heard.
Hearing the words I had written coming out of someone's mouth besides Keir's was an odd experience. I was so used to my brother's delivery that I could almost stop paying attention. But the way Jax was singing forced me to pay attention to each phrase that came out of his mouth.
And I wasn't sure I liked the feelings that came with them.
He took another step. "Okay." He nodded towards the booth.
The sound engineer nodded back and punched up the levels. Twitch counted out the beats and we started to play.
Recording live was fun. It reminded me of the old days, gathered in our garage, making a racket that echoed across the neighborhood. I tried to lose myself in that feeling, but found myself hearing my lyrics once more.
"When you see from the inside,
When the walls come tumbling down,
There's nowhere left to hide,
That's when I'll come around.
Fire in her belly,
Fire in her veins,
Fire all around us
Extinguished by the rain."
I launched into my solo savagely, angry at myself, angry at this situation—fuck it, angry at her for not having the guts to see that we were good together. Her uptight princess act wasn't cute anymore.
I wanted the real Maddie.
And I knew she wanted me.
This whole situation was just fucked.
Keir's angry, growling bellow mixed with Jax's clear tenor in a way that even I could tell was fucking magic. This song was going to be killer… That is, if I could stand to play it again.
"Great stuff, guys," the sound engineer chirped into our headsets. "Just needs a little mixing, but I think we’ve got what we need.”
Keir stepped back from his mic and yanked his headphones off. "I think we should toast this fucker," he said enthusiastically and reached for his flask. He poured out a line of shots. "To gettin' shit done," he cried.
I eyed my brother suspiciously. Recording was serious business to him. He wasn't usually this manic.
But I was never one to turn away free booze.
"Cheers!" Everyone knocked back their shots, when the loud sound of a vibrating phone interrupted the snorts and coughs.
"What kind of cheaper rotgut is this?" Balzac snarled, coughing into the back of his meaty hand.
"Shut the fuck up," Keir called, waving his hands for silence as he looked at his phone. "Holy shit, guys, it's the video."
The whiskey immediately reformed into a leaden ball in my stomach.
But everyone else was exclaiming excitedly. Even Pepper managed a half smile. Keir pulled his tablet out of his bag and set about downloading the file.
"I need to do more videos," Jax mused.
"Here we go!" Keir called. We all crowded around, and he pressed play.
I thought I would be prepared. I had seen the rough cuts, made my notes and comments for the editing team. Fuck it, I had been there, acting with her, touching her, kissing her. This was all old news to me.
Or it should have been. But seeing it… Seeing her… Seeing us that way. It was like I wasn't in this cramped, smelly studio anymore. I was there, with her, touching her all over again. And what was even better was that now I knew her, knew her well enough to see those moments where she had fallen apart for me. I recognized each look, the difference between the real Maddie and the Maddie with the mask. I knew… I fucking knew her.
I had to look away.
The blood flooded so loudly in my ears that I almost missed the end of the video. "Holy shit," Jax said approvingly. "That's gonna get a hell of a lot of attention."
Their voices melded into a blur. I looked around wildly for a place to escape. I stalked over to the corner and stared at the wall for a second, willing the frustration to pass, then freaking out that it wasn't. I turned back around.
And found myself staring right at Keir.
He was standing there waiting, watching me, a strange expression on his face. Somewhere between sadness and understanding.
It was fucking unnerving.
"What are you looking at?" I growled. I was ready for a fight. Something to distract me.
"I saw. Saw how you were watching the video," Keir said. I couldn't tell what the fuck he was thinking.
"You were, huh?" I said, crossing my arms.
"The way you were watching her..."
"And you figured now would be a good time to start giving me shit about it?"
Keir slumped against the wall and lowered his voice. "Yeah, well...maybe I don't feel like it today."
"Bullshit." Keir never let me off the hook...for anything. "What's gotten into you? You've been actually fun today. I mean, it's nice and all, but not exactly normal."
Keir's Adam's apple bobbed, and I felt something squeeze in my chest. "Keir. You're freaking me out. Tell me off about Maddie. Tell me I'm a fucking degenerate. Lay into me."
"Maybe I don't exactly have the moral high ground anymore."
"What did you do?"
He blinked several times.
"Keir. What the fuck did you do?"
"I called Scarlett."
"What?!?"
"Oh, relax. I didn't actually talk to her." His voice softened. "She must have changed her number." He ducked his head. "But I found her contact info. At the magazine? I wrote it down." He patted his back pocket.
"Keir," I said warningly.
"I get it, okay? But that night...at Harlow's. I saw Casper all happy, Jax all content, and you fucking mooning around like you were stoned off your chick, and I was like, fuck. I had that. It was forever ago, but I had it. And now I don't. And ever since I saw that article in Grip, I just can't get her out of my head, Rane." He looked at me with our mother's eyes. "And so maybe I don't feel like giving you shit about your bad decisions about women. Because I'm making a shit ton of them myself all of a sudden."
"Fuck," was all I managed to say.
"I've never seen you this gone about a girl." Keir exhaled, leaning his head back against the wall. "Like ever. I honestly thought you weren't capable of it, especially after tossing Gina like she was last night's empties." He cleared his throat and stifled a hiccup. "So...fuck...I must be drunk, 'cause this is like the most twisted thing I could possibly say, but...I think you should go for it."
I lunged for my phone.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Madeline
Two auditions. A reading and an honest to god screen test. I was so confident when I walked in, but now...
"Nothing?"
My agent sounded almost as desperate as I felt. "Pilot season is coming, Madeline. You'll have plenty of work then. In the meantime, maybe just enjoy the time off?"
"Yeah, I could use it!" I smiled brightly. "Thanks, Jen."
I stared at the phone. Rejected. Both times. And now there was nothing on the horizon for me. Jen couldn't have been clearer, even if she was trying to be nice about it.
So, that was that. I felt flat, dull. Hollowed out. The space where the hope usually lived, curled into a tight, protective ball in my chest, was echoingly empty. I was about to set the phone down, take a step forward and try to plan my next move, when it buzzed in my hand.
"How are you?" the text read.
Before I could fully process it, a smile tugged at the edge of my face. Rane.
I hadn't meant to come down so hard on him at Harlow's. Then again, he hadn't seemed like it bothered him at all, which definitely bothered me all the more. Fucking him had been a mistake, but one I could chalk up to infatuation. What I hadn't counted on was how much I enjoyed hanging out with him. And that was the scary part. I didn't want to want hi
m, and I definitely didn't want to like him.
"Working," I typed back.
"Then why are you texting me back?" came the reply.
"Asshole," I muttered. Instead, I typed, "Running an errand between appointments."
"What kind of errand?"
I furrowed my brow at my phone. "The caffeine kind," I tapped back.
"Good. I could use a cup. Where are you?"
What the hell did he think he was doing? "You want to watch me get coffee?"
"No, Princess. I want us to get coffee together. Talk about stuff."
I was biting my lip. My traitorous body was already responding to the idea of seeing him again. A lick of flame curled around the base of my spine, igniting a slow heat in my belly. Pull yourself together, I told myself. But for some reason, my usual mantra wasn't working. "Do you really think that's a good idea?" I typed back. I honestly wanted to know the answer.
The little dots that indicated he was typing seemed to last forever. I checked my phone, set it down... then picked it back up again and stuffed it in my purse and began walking the few blocks over to the coffee shop.
Then I stopped and pulled it out of my bag again.
"Probably not. But let's do it anyway," he had replied.
I let out a short, barking laugh and leaned against the baking exterior of a boutique. "Do you know Java City on Cedar?" I typed. This was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake. But for some reason, making this mistake seemed absolutely vital to my well-being.
"Is that near Callow's music shop?"
"I think so."
"Then I'm right around the fucking corner. See you in a minute, Princess."
I stared down at my phone like it had betrayed me. Like accepting Rane's invitation was its fault and not mine.
Then I dug around in my bag for compact and checked my eye makeup. Still in place. I checked my hair and frowned at its stubborn insistence on falling in my face. I slipped on some lip gloss, then immediately regretted my decision when an errant breeze sent a stray lock to stick to my lips.
"Oh my God, I'm a disgrace," I muttered.
But Rane likes you that way, a small voice in the back of my head piped up.
I knew this was true. Rane liked my flaws. He seemed to relish the moments when I let myself fall apart in front of him. The more unhinged I was, the more he seemed to want me.
It was strangely exhilarating.
And I knew it was even truer the second I spied him, already standing inside the cool, air-conditioned confines of Java City, his big hands tucked into his pockets, thumbs threaded in the belt loops of his worn-in jeans. When he saw me walk in, his whole posture changed. He seems to grow taller, his face lighting up, a mischievous quirk taking hold of his lips and turning them into the most kissable things in the world.
I went to him, then stopped short about three feet away, unsure of how I should greet him. A hug? A handshake? A blow job?
"Good to see you," he said, reaching out and putting his warm hand on the small of my back and guiding the both of us to the end of the line. "You look beautiful."
I smiled a private smile—because I was a mess—and then consciously wiped it from my face. "What brings you to this neighborhood?" I asked.
"Recording," he said. "How about you?"
"I'm picky about my coffee shops," I told him. It was partially the truth.
He turned and looked down at me with a questioning eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Long story," I said dismissively.
"Tell me." He gestured towards the winding line in front of us. "We've got time."
I swallowed. "You really want to know?"
"I really want to know everything about you." He said it so casually, I could almost pretend it was a mistake.
I closed my eyes, trying to figure out a way to put into words the story I hadn't told anyone, not even my therapists. In the face of my breakdown, that day had always seemed like such an insubstantial thing... and yet it mattered more to me than any of the... things... I did afterward.
"There was a Java City really close to the studio," I began. "I was there, the morning before…" I gestured futilely at my head, and he made a little mmming noise of understanding. "Before… I did… That." I took a deep breath. "Anyway, there were these people there, mother and daughter. The little girl was about eight years old." I smiled, remembering. "She was staring at me. I was still in my makeup from shooting that day, my hair was still all done up in my Princess do. And this little girl, all freckles and braces and glasses, was staring at me the way only a kid can stare at something. It was cute, if a little nerve-wracking."
"I get that," Rane said. I could tell he was really listening. And suddenly the story actually wanted to come out.
"So, here I am being stared at by this little girl, when her mother finally notices. Then she starts staring, too. But this isn't celebrity worship. This woman is looking at me like I owe her something. She opened her mouth, and I'll never forget her voice—it was this aggressive, East Coast kind of bark. 'Are you Parker Paisley?' she demanded."
Rane made a small sound, halfway between a grunt and a growl.
"I had to laugh," I said. "I mean, now, if someone were to ask me that, I would just straight up say no. No, I'm not Parker Paisley. I'm Madeline Cole, who is a real fucking person. But back then, maybe I didn't have things figured so much. So what I said instead was, 'I play her, yes.'"
I swallowed, keeping my eyes tightly closed. I didn't want to see Rane's face right now. Anger, pity, sadness, confusion, I couldn't handle any of it right now. If I saw any emotion at all, I would clam up and stop talking forever. "Now her daughter, when she heard this, made the cutest little gasp. I lived for that back then. The kids' reactions. They didn't expect much of me other than to just keep playing their favorite princess. But the parents…"
Rane pressed slightly on the small of my back, pulling me incrementally closer to him. I didn't know if it was a conscious gesture or not. But it had the odd effect of making me feel safer as I recounted the morning that started the worst day of my life.
"So, the woman started egging her daughter on. Her daughter was clearly star struck and kind of terrified, but her mother kept pushing her. So, I crouched down, and I don't know, I must've complimented her hair, told her she was a beautiful princess, too, the usual lines, when her mother started in again. 'I hope you understand that you're a role model,' she told me. 'Of course,' I told her. 'I am always aware.' But then she got right in my face..."
Rane growled and cursed softly under his breath. I took a shuddering breath and let the words tumble out in one long exhale. "And she started yelling, with her finger right up under my nose, 'You have a responsibility! To us. The parents. Our little girls can't see you getting your nose pierced, or sleeping around, or getting trashed at nightclubs. You have a responsibility to your fans! You owe us!'"
"Can I take your order?"
My eyes flew open, and for a moment, the tears that had gathered made everything swim together.
Somehow, we had made our way to the front of the line without me realizing.
I looked up at Rane. He had let me talk, all the while gently leading us to the front, and I had just closed my eyes and let him.
"I'll pay," he said. His voice was tight.
"You don't have to," I said mechanically.
"What are friends for?" he rumbled. He chucked a few bills down without looking and was silent the whole while we collected our drinks. My heart raced, and I fought the urge to run out the door.
Just as I gave up hope that he was going to say anything at all, he cleared his throat. "That was some bullshit, Maddie."
I started. "What?"
He pressed his lips together, choosing his words. I sat down in one of the cafe chairs, and he set our drinks down on the wobbly table between us. He sat down and tapped his long, guitar-playing fingers on the table three times before nodding to himself.
"The way I figure it," he said, "these people, they boxed you in.
And the second you started to push against the box, they got mad at you and threw you away." I watched his expression darken, his eyebrows knit together. "And you're alone with yourself for the first time in your life, living outside of that box. You don't want to go back in it, but it's a safe place. You knew it and people liked you when you were in it. But you're out of it now, out in the big scary world outside of the box you know, and now you gotta figure out who the hell you are without it."
His gray eyes snapped back up and met mine. I felt completely naked and exposed.
I exhaled sharply. "Yeah," was all I could say.
He was right.
"You're allowed to break out of your box, Madeline," he said softly. "It's not going to hurt you, or break you, or cause irreparable damage. You needed to step out of it and see what it's like to really live."
"I am living," I protested weakly.
"You are," he nodded. "It scares the fuck out of you, but you are. Finally."
Then he leaned back in his wrought iron chair and sipped his coffee. Like we were just chatting about the weather. Like he hadn't just blown my mind.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rane
I leaned back and smiled at her. She gave me a wide, honest grin and a slight blush as my reward, and I was punched in the gut one more time with the realization that I liked her. Sitting here comfortably in a coffee shop, listening to her stories and hearing her memories....it was all going to my head. Maybe some of Jax's cockiness was rubbing off on me because I started to convince myself again that, yeah, I could be friends with Maddie.
Except...
Once more she was dressed in this little spaghetti strap number that showed off the smattering of freckles across her shoulders and down to her breasts. I wanted to follow them like a trail of breadcrumbs, down and down and...
Fuck.
"Thank you," she said on a long exhale. "Today was pretty shitty until you texted."
"Yeah?" I was presuming way too much, giving her advice like that. But her story got me all riled. I wanted to retroactively punch that woman in the face, and I couldn't, so the next best thing was to try to move beyond it. Let it go. Fuck it, right? That's what I'd normally tell her. But the second I started pontificating like that, I wanted to cram my own hand down my throat. Who the fuck did I think I was? I had never lived her life. I couldn't live her life. I was physically incapable of caring as much as she did.