The Secret Life of Trystan Scott (The Complete Collection Vol 1-5)

by H. M. Ward

  When she’s gone, he looks up at Tucker. The man is a better person than he’d originally thought. Tucker hides his kindnesses. Call it a gut feeling, but Trystan knows that Tucker did more than arrange for the college to let Mari into the dorms early.

  Trystan leans his shoulder against the cinderblock wall and slips his hands into his pockets. Tilting his chin up, he says, “You paid for her housing, didn’t you?”

  Tucker gives him a lopsided grin. Surprisingly, he doesn’t deny it. “She earned it, don’t you think?”

  There are people who do good deeds in silence. They come and go like a whisper, and most of the time we think it was luck, but it’s so much more than that. Tucker isn’t a wealthy man—he’s on a teacher’s salary—and he just paid a massive bill for a student. Mari isn’t his daughter. He doesn’t owe her a damn thing, and yet he did this for her. It makes Trystan wonder exactly what Tucker’s done for him, and what kindnesses swept by unnoticed, because now he’s certain that there have been many.

  The words knock around in Trystan’s head for a moment before he asks, “Yeah, but why not tell her you paid for it?” It’s not that he thinks Tucker should draw attention to it, but he wants to know why the teacher did it and doesn’t want credit for his actions. The behavior is so contradictory to everything Trystan experienced growing up that he can’t fathom the situation. What would compel someone, an acquaintance at best, to act so selflessly?

  The large man doesn’t answer at first. Instead, he glances around to make sure they’re still alone before leaning in closer to Trystan’s ear. “Because ownership of the action devalues the kindness in some cases. It’ll make her feel indebted, and that isn’t the reason it was done. Well, not that I would know.” Tucker grins, and admits nothing and everything with his statement.

  Having ideals is one thing, and acting on them is quite another. Trystan knows what kind of man he wants to be and sees a reflection of himself in Tucker. Or maybe it’s the other way around. It’s possible that the young teacher already rubbed off on him over the years.

  Tucker is quiet for a moment and then points to Trystan’s packet. “The contract that I think you’ll be the happiest living with is on top. There’s a pen in the envelope. Congratulations, Mr. Scott.”

  Trystan pulls the contract out and scans it. Just as Tucker starts to walk off, Trystan says, “There’s nothing in here for you.” There’s no notation of a commission percentage for Tucker. No flat fee. Nothing.

  The teacher doesn’t stop, look back, or try to explain. He simply acts as if he didn’t hear and heads off toward the lighting cage to make sure everyone is where they need to be before the curtain goes up. Trystan watches as Tucker disappears around the corner. He looks at the contracts in his hands and knows what he’s going to do.

  CHAPTER 11

  ~MARI~

  I’ve never gone on stage before to do a live performance. Up until now, I was the girl who sat in the shadows, the person that no one knew was there. By intermission everyone knows my name. They’ll see me flooded in golden light, standing center stage with Trystan. I’ve always thought he had charisma. The way he says his lines makes the night feel surreal. It’s like we’re star-crossed lovers trapped in another time, in another life.

  There are more people in the audience than I’ve ever seen. I peeked between the curtains from backstage before the play started. Now that things are underway, my heart doesn’t pound so frantically. Periodically, the glint of a camera lens catches my eye from somewhere in back, but I can’t see past the second row. The rest of the audience is swallowed in blackness, which is good, otherwise my nerves would choke me to death and I’d die.

  The lights keep me from looking out into the audience. They’re blinding, and every time I feel the racing of my heart as I start to panic, Trystan seems to sense it. He touches me lightly—on my cheek or my wrist—and pulls me back to where it’s only the two of us. When he does that, I realize that I could go on like this forever. He anchors me, steadies me, and makes me a better person.

  We’re at the end of the second act, and that steamy kiss is about to happen. My heart pounds as I say my lines. I never thought about him kissing me like this in front of so many people. Sweat trickles down my back and it feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. My head is in the clouds, as my hands tremble. Trystan reaches for me, his eyes locked on mine. Smooth words flow softly from his lips as he leans in, closing the distance between us. His hands tangle in my hair and his mouth brushes against mine. The kiss feels more real, more intense than anything before. I gasp as he pulls away, and my eyes flick to the side—to the audience—as the lights fade to black and the curtain swings shut.

  She’s here.

  I stand utterly still, even after the dim blue stage lights come up so we don’t trip as we walk off stage. We have fifteen minutes before the next act. Trystan is smiling. He loves this so much and I don’t want to ruin it for him, so I try not to react, but he’s already noticed.

  “What is it?”

  “My mom. She’s out there.” I stare at the floor, at the way the wood takes on blue tones in the light.

  “Is that bad?”

  Glancing up at him, I answer truthfully. “I don’t know. They said they wouldn’t come.”

  “Your dad said they wouldn’t come. Maybe your mom realizes he’s been acting like an ass. Mari, you are exceptional. You’re dazzling everyone out there. She has to see that.”

  I smile up at him, but it’s forced. Seeing her there makes me question myself. Everything I do is lacking in her eyes and it’ll crush me if she thinks my performance is subpar. “She doesn’t see much when she looks at me, Trystan. She sees that I’m not what she wanted, and that’s about it.”

  The conversation is cut short when we’re shoved off stage, so the crew can change out the set. Trystan walks with me quickly into one the back dressing rooms. “Forget that she’s here. Tonight is a new start for both of us. Try to be happy.” He leans in and kisses my nose, which makes me smile. It’s such a sweet thing, innocent and kind, that I can’t help but grin.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I nod. “You’re right. We both get a new start after this. And honestly, I’m loving every second of it. They love you Trystan. You could hear a pin drop out there, and it’s because of you.”

  Trystan never takes compliments well. He usually boasts or does something silly to deflect or distract people from seeing it, but I know. This time he does neither. His voice is a whisper. His dark lashes lower and he leans into me, holding me in his arms and whispers in my ear. “Thank you, Mari. I couldn’t have done this without you.” As he pulls away, he pecks the side of my face. “I need to take care of something, okay. You should go get a drink and have your make-up touched up before curtain call.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you in a little bit.” I wander around backstage until I find the side door that leads to the water fountain. Pushing through, I head into the only hallway that is blocked off from the public. Still, some people have managed to get backstage, including Brie.

  She’s wearing a tight little skirt and saunters over to me as I guzzle water from the fountain. “I can’t believe they let you on stage. Trystan is totally carrying you. If it wasn’t for him, they’d be throwing rotten vegetables at you.” She laughs and tips her head back. The bruises under her eyes are half hidden by make-up. She must have rubbed her face and some of the concealer came off. Either that or she’s been crying.

  I straighten and look her over once, and raise an eyebrow. “I’d rather get hit with rotten fruit than have a rotten soul. Good luck with that.” My throat is still dry, so I bend my head to the fountain again, but Brie doesn’t leave.

  “You think you’re better than me? Please!” She cackles and several pairs of eyes turn our way. Some of the actors are lingering backstage with me, waiting for water while others are practicing their lines. They all stop what they’re doing and watch. Brie rants, “You’re just the spoiled daughter of a rich man. Yo
u’ll never amount to anything, and as for Trystan, I’ll always be his first love. I’ll always be the woman who slept with him first and nothing you can do will ever change that.” Her words are spoken loudly in a clipped tone, like she’s superior.

  The urge to punch her in the face courses through my arms, and my muscles tense, but I’m not a fool. Besides, Tucker went out of his way for me and I’m not going to get into another fistfight with her, so I straighten, look straight at her, purse my lips together, and spew. A splattering of water comes out and hits her face right before I start choking. By the time she squeals, I’m doubled over and hacking up a lung.

  It looks like she was in the spray zone and the rest of the cast that’s loitering down the hallway come over to make sure I’m all right. No one notices Brie, but I do. There’s murder in her eyes as she wipes away the smeared make-up. It was childish. Maybe. But I’m not letting people like her talk to me that way anymore. Brie stomps off and disappears into the crowd on the other side of the barricade. I hope she goes home, but I doubt it. She’s probably waiting around to see what damage she can do.

  There are several sets of hands on my back when I hear Mom’s voice. “Mari?” I glance up, horrified that she’ll try to talk to me now.

  Her gaze meets mine and we stare at each other. Everything within me says to walk away, that talking to her right now is not a smart move, but I can’t. There’s something about her, about the look on her face, that draws me down the hallway. Soon I’m standing in front of her with only the wooden posts separating us.

  Glancing up at her with a stern tone, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

  There are people around. Many voices are talking at the same time. A camera pushes its way to the front and soon I can see the man wielding it. He shoves it in my face and I think that Mom will back away, but she doesn’t. Rather, she lifts her hand and I can see what she’s been holding. A single red rose with a white ribbon tied around it, forming a little bow.

  Holding it out to me, Mom offers the flower. “You amaze me, Mari. I never knew you could do anything like this and seeing you up there on the stage…” Her fingers cover her mouth quickly as she swallows a sob. The rose remains between us, an offering not accepted. I can’t touch it. I’m frozen in place. Her words hit me like a sheet of water and I’m drowning, dying to hear what she has to say.

  Mom continues, “I never knew.” She looks down at the rose in her hand. “And I’m afraid I’ve been holding you back. I’m so sorry, honey.”

  I nod slowly, too shocked to speak. When I find my voice, I ask, “Where’s Dad?”

  Mom’s spine straightens and her eyes lock with mine, offering an apology that words cannot express. She doesn’t have to answer because I know he isn’t here. Remorse fills her eyes, like there are more things to say, but not here—not now.

  The rose starts to fall to her side, clutched in her hand, but I reach for it, refusing to make the same mistakes my father’s made time and time again. Forgiveness is something I want, so it’s something I have to offer, and there’s no one that I’d rather give it to than my mother.

  “This is beautiful. Thank you, Mom.” I take the rose and reach over the barricade and hug her quickly before saying, “I need to get back. I’ll talk to you after. I have some really exciting news.” Hiding my face, I hurry down the hall. Tears prick my eyes as hope fills my chest.

  She’s proud of me. My mother is finally proud of me.

  CHAPTER 12

  ~TRYSTAN~

  The play is over too quickly. Trystan basks in every moment, willing time to slow, but it doesn’t. Rather, it seems to fly by, the minutes passing like seconds. He saw Mari with her mother and the smile on her face as she hurried back toward the stage during intermission. At least she has one parent now. Going through life alone is hard and Trystan wouldn’t wish it on anyone. For some reason, blood matters. There isn’t a day that goes by that he doesn’t wish his mother would show up and say something like that to him, but the woman is a ghost—gone forever.

  The last line is said and something inside his chest tugs hard. This is the end of one life and the beginning of another. Most people never get a chance like this, and he knows he should feel lucky, but he’s going to miss this place. Trystan will miss his afternoons with Mari, and driving Tucker crazy in class. He’ll miss the hallways and Seth’s crude mouth. If Trystan doesn’t make an effort, he knows the people he holds most dear will vanish from his life.

  The curtain swings closed as he stands there with Mari in his arms. He beams down at her and kisses her hard, not holding back a bit of emotion. Without warning the curtain swings open again and a single spotlight shines across the room, illuminating their private kiss.

  The audience is cheering wildly, standing and clapping so loudly that he can’t hear a thing. Mari and Trystan pull apart. She smiles and covers her lips with her fingers, trying to hide a beautiful, shy, grin. Trystan tugs her forward toward the edge of the stage. The spot light follows the pair until Trystan stops. He holds up their hands and they bow together, which makes everyone cheer louder. The casting call begins and one by one, the entire cast is called out onto the stage.

  At the end, Mr. Tucker is called out and applauded. Up until this moment, everything is normal. Now, Tucker would normally take a mic and thank everyone for their hard work, but not tonight. Tucker taps the mic in his hand and clears his throat. “There are members of the press here tonight with a question for one of our students, and I believe he has an answer for you.”

  Tucker turns to look back at Trystan. This is it. His heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest. It’s a combination of dread and excitement. Trystan steps forward and tugs Mari with him before releasing her hand after a couple of steps.

  Trystan taps his mic to make sure it’s still on before his voice rings across the auditorium. “A few months ago I was completely and totally in love with a beautiful woman who didn’t know how I felt, so I wrote her a song.” Trystan reaches for Mari and pulls her to him. “She knows how I feel, now.” Trystan laughs lightly as he looks at Mari, and the audience laughs with him.

  “And before tomorrow morning, everyone will know everything about me, so I might as well tell you a little bit about who I am. When I was a baby, my mother left. It broke my father’s heart and for the longest time, he blamed me. He took it out on me with words and fists. I’m not the guy from the pristine home with the perfect parents. I didn’t have that life.” Trystan’s throat tightens as he speaks, but he pushes through. He lifts his gaze and looks at the reporters and smiles the confident smirk he always wears when things are difficult.

  “I’m the kid that cut class and drove my teachers crazy. I’m the guy who fell in love with his best friend.” He glances at Mari and squeezes her hand. “And I’m the guy who wrote her a love song and uploaded it to the internet. I’m the guy everyone has been calling Day Jones, and my name is Trystan Scott.”

  Seth steps onto the stage and shoves a guitar into Trystan’s hands. Grinning he says, “Show them,” before backing away into the crowd on stage. They’re separated from Trystan, watching in awe.

  The audience goes nuts when the guitar is brought out. Mari stands to the side as Trystan grabs a stool from Katie. She grins at him as she backs away. The guys in the lighting cage, blink the house lights and then turn them off. As Trystan begins to sing, a single light flips on behind him. There are several gasps and squeals of excitement as people realize that Trystan is really the guy in the video.

  Trystan continues to sing, losing himself in the song like he’s done so many times before. His dark hair covers his eyes as he looks down at the floor. The music fills the room, rendering the buzzing audience silent. The music fills the room, softly resonating and causing that soft vibration that only a live performance can bring.

  When he finishes the song the room goes from complete silence to an explosion of applause. Trystan stands and walks toward Seth who hands him the contracts. Trystan holds u
p his hand to silence the room. There’s joy in his voice when he announces his decision. “I’ve chosen to sign with one of the record labels and accept their generous offer. Mr. Tucker, will you do the honor?”

  Tucker gives him a strange look. This isn’t what they planned. Trystan was supposed to announce what he decided. Tucker steps forward and takes the papers. Reading the papers as he speaks, Tucker announces, “Trystan Scott, formerly known as Day Jones, has signed with Harbor House Records with the stipulation that…” his voice fades which makes the audience grow even more excited. Tucker looks up at Trystan and then back down at the paper, and continues reading, “With the stipulation that the school drama department receive a portion of his sales, and that Mr. Tucker will be his representative and receive a standard commission as compensation for his time and expertise.” Trystan wasn’t certain how Tucker would react. Doing it this way kind of forced the guy to say yes, at least that’s what he was hoping for.

  Trystan speaks, filling the silence as Tucker stares at him in shock. “There are two people who made this possible—Marie Jennings for inspiring me to write the song, and Mr. Tucker, who negotiated the contract. This guy has been watching my back for years, even though I didn’t know it.” Trystan’s body pulses with excitement. For some reason this part feels more exciting than anything else. He looks out at the crowd, nodding, gesturing for them to join in. “Come on, Tucker. Say yes. You can still teach. There’s a lot more I can learn, and I promise I won’t cut.”

  Tucker’s jaw is hanging open. Several cameras shift in his direction, waiting for an answer, while the audience cheers for him to do it. A rumble of laugher falls out of his mouth before he speaks. “You amaze me, Trystan. You always have. I’m honored, beyond words…”

  Trystan extends his hand. “So, you’ll do it?”

  “Damn right, I’ll do it!” Tucker grabs Trystan’s hand and almost rips his arm off as he shakes it hard.