Make Me Bad: Private Lessons

by Vega, W. H.

  I love both my parents, and I realize how lucky I am that they understand that I don’t want to live in their musical shadows.

  “Madison, your mama is right. Of course, we would love to help you in any way that we can, but we certainly understand that you want to create a name for yourself. That would be really hard to do in Nashville.”

  He gets up to get a drink from the mini bar. “Alright, enough talk about what Maddie is doing in six months,” he says, lightening the mood.

  We sit around and talk more about my music and what our plans are for the next day. It’s so warm and cozy in my parents’ suite, and today was actually an unseasonably cold day for Paris.

  “Ugh, I really don’t want to go back home in the cold,” I complain after we decide to meet for breakfast the next morning. I have class and my parents have an early afternoon flight.

  “Just stay here,” my mom offers, “we have the extra bedroom and you can wear something of mine.” She gives me a conspiratorial smile. “Or we could go downstairs and pick out something from one of the stores.”

  I can’t turn down the appealing offer of staying at the Ritz, and my mom and I hurry downstairs to the shops. I pick out a pair of luxurious silk pajamas that are extremely overpriced, and a cashmere turtleneck dress that is even more overpriced. My mom waves it off, and we return upstairs with my clothes.

  I change into my pajamas, and watch TV with my parents until I feel my eyelids getting heavy.

  “Alright, I’m heading to bed.” I kiss both my parents and head back to the small second bedroom in the suite. Even though the room is small, the bed is heavenly soft and the sheets feel incredible. I fall asleep within minutes.

  The next morning my parents and I eat breakfast together at the hotel, before they have to check out and afterwards, I get ready for class. I text Cleo and ask her to bring my bag to campus, so I don’t have to make an extra stop by the apartment.

  When it’s time for me to leave, I give my parents each a huge hug.

  “Thank you so much for visiting.”

  “We had a great time,” my dad says. “Thanks for showing us around.” He grins, “And giving your mother an excuse to shop.”

  I laugh, “Anytime.”

  “We’ll see you in a month,” my mom says, squeezing me tightly. “Can’t wait to have you home for the holidays.”

  “I can’t wait either.” I feel myself getting teary eyed and I can’t believe I’m getting this emotional over my parents leaving. I truly didn’t realize how much I missed them.

  “Alright, no tears,” my mother laughs, “We’re going to see you in a month! It’s just like when you’re in New York.”

  “Except you’re in Paris,” my dad teases.

  “Thank you again for the wonderful apartment.” My parents had been so pleased when they saw the place and Cleo had practically fallen all over herself thanking them for their generosity.

  “How many times do you get to study abroad in Paris?” my mother asks playfully. “What good is all the hard work your daddy and I do if we can’t share it like that?”

  I kiss them again, and then I head out into the cool air. It’s another cold day, though not as cold as yesterday, and I hug my coat tightly around me as I make my way to the Metro. My cashmere dress makes me feel sophisticated, and I suddenly feel a pang of longing so strong for Luc, that it nearly knocks me over.

  Without thinking, I whip out my phone and call him.

  “Hey,” he answers, his voice deep and gravelly.

  “Oh. Hi. Did I wake you?” I’m caught off guard by him sounding like he’s asleep. It’s after ten in the morning. I just assumed he would be awake.

  “Yeah, yeah, but it’s fine. I actually needed to wake up. I stayed up really late working on music last night. A song just came to me, and I had to keep going until I got it all.”

  I understood that feeling. Sometimes when inspiration hit, you just had to go with it.

  “Oh, well that’s great. I’m sure it’s a great piece.” Knowing Luc, it was going to be great. I don’t think any music he composed could be described as mediocre.

  “Well, we’ll see. It’s nowhere near ready yet.” There’s a slight pause. “Hey. How are your parents? They’re leaving this morning aren’t they?”

  “Yeah, thanks for asking. They were great. I actually just left the hotel. I ended up sleeping there last night and we had breakfast this morning before we had to part ways.”

  “That sounds like it was nice. I’m glad you had a good visit and I’m really sorry I wasn’t able to meet them. I know you wanted me too.” He pauses again. “I’m just not sure how we could have worked that out without raising suspicion.”

  I hate to admit that he’s right. I let out a loud sigh. “You’re probably right. There wasn’t any logical way to introduce you.”

  “So,” he begins, switching subjects, “Now that your parents are headed back to the States, tell me when I get to see you again.”

  Normally, I would be shy and say something cute, but I have missed Luc way too much and I decide to get straight to the point. “How about today?”

  He lets out a sexy laugh. “You read my mind. Are you heading to class now? Why don’t you come over when your class ends?”

  I agree and then have to hang up because I’m getting on the Metro. Secretly, I’m pleased Luc is going to see me in this cashmere dress. Not that I feel the need to impress Luc, but sometimes I feels like he views me as younger than I really am. I feel older in this dress. It’s a good thing.

  I meet Cleo for our class, and thank her for bringing my schoolbooks.

  “So, what do you feel like doing?” she asks, as the class ends.

  I give her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’m heading over to Luc’s now. I haven’t seen him since Thursday night.”

  “Oh, how awful!” she mocks, as we file out of class.

  “Please,” I shoot her an incredulous look. “You are always running off with Philippe. Besides, what is he doing now?”

  She rolls her eyes. “He’s actually in class now. He’s not free until later.”

  “And are you meeting up later?” I’m pretty sure I know the answer, but I want to give her a hard time since she was teasing me about Luc.

  “Maybe,” she sniffs.

  “Busted!”

  We split up on the block where our apartment is located, and I head towards Luc’s building. I love how close his apartment is to ours– it makes things very convenient.

  I take a deep breath before knocking on his door and eagerly wait for him to open it. Desire tugs at me, and I’m feeling flushed just thinking about all the things that Luc and I could do this evening.

  The door opens and Luc is standing there barefoot, dressed in jeans and a fitted black t-shirt.

  My mouth waters.

  Something about him being barefoot, and seeing the material of the shirt cling to his chest just drives me wild.

  I lick my lips. “Hi,” I manage to say.

  “Wow.” His eyes rove up and down my body, and I momentarily forget about the cashmere dress I’m wearing. “You look gorgeous.”

  I manage a small smile, still wowed by his good looks. “So do you.”

  He lets out a deep laugh. “I don’t think I would use gorgeous to describe my looks.”

  “Well you clearly haven’t looked in the mirror. I’m loving this casual, sexy look of yours,” I say boldly.

  He actually turns red. I’ve embarrassed him! “Well, don’t just stand there. Get your sexy ass in here.”

  I follow him inside, and slip my coat off before laying it across the back of the couch.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” he asks, padding towards the kitchen. “Water, soda, wine?”

  “A water would be fine, thanks.”

  He comes back with two glasses of water and we sit down on the couch.

  “Thank you,” I say, taking the water from him and having a sip.

  “Did your parents get to
the airport okay?”

  “Yes, they did.”

  “That’s good.”

  “They were asking me about my plans after graduation,” I say slowly, not really sure why I’m bringing this up, but I can’t take it back now that it’s out of my mouth.

  “Oh?” He doesn’t say anything else, just looks at me with a guarded expression. I can already tell this is not a topic he wants to discuss.

  I shrug and decide to play it cool. I was foolish to bring it up. “I just told them that I didn’t really have any set plans yet.” I look up to him, questioningly. “I mean, there really isn’t a better place than New York to work on my music, is there?”

  He watches me closely for a few seconds, and then shakes his head. “No,” he says thoughtfully. “There isn’t. The best contacts and venues are in the city for sure.”

  I nod. “I don’t think I could have any success in Nashville. There really isn’t room for anything but country music.”

  Luc nods.

  “And I don’t want to spend my career in my parents shadow.”

  He nods again.

  And because he doesn’t speak, I continue. I ramble, actually. “I mean, how could I stay in Nashville and pursue music that isn’t even popular there, especially with everyone knowing who my parents are. I would either fail miserably, or people would help me because of my parents instead of me making it on my own.”

  “Maddie, who are you trying to convince?” Luc asks quietly and his question throws me for a loop.

  I can’t even respond at first. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t have to convince me of anything. Your decisions after graduation are your decisions.”

  “I know, I know. I just figured you were a good person to talk to.”

  “Yes, but why?”

  What the hell? Why is Luc asking me that?

  “What I mean,” he clarifies, seeing the confused look on my face. “Are you asking me because I’ve made a career pursuing composition and guitar? Or are you asking me because you want this thing between us to have a future?”

  “That’s not fair,” I say angrily, truthfully unsure of my purpose for bringing the subject up in the first place. I beginning to think both of the explanations he’s posed are true and I’m annoyed that he’s figured me out so quickly.

  “Let’s be really honest here, Maddie,” he says, angling his body so he’s facing me.

  I set my mouth in a firm line. I don’t like how this conversation has taken a turn downhill. I wait for him to speak again.

  “Yes, from a career perspective, New York is certainly the place to be. As your advisor and music professor, I would tell you that the best chance of pursuing your music and being successful is to stay in New York. I could help you with contacts and industry business. I would help you because you are talented, not because I’m having sex with you. And knowing who your parents are, I completely agree that staying in Nashville would be a bad career decision. For one, as you said, our music is not popular in the Nashville music scene. And two, as you also mentioned, you would forever be in your parents’ shadow, never sure if you were getting help because you are talented – which you are – or because your mom and dad are Paige Lawson and Blake Evans.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up his hand and continues.

  “I’ve already told you that I can’t see what kind of future we’d have, so I’m not going to tell you to stay in New York because I enjoy our time together.”

  I can’t help but cut in now. “But you said you could see a future for us!” I argue. “You told me that I would be good for you!”

  He sighs, “Yes, I did say that, and I probably shouldn’t have.”

  “Why?” I demand.

  “Because it’s given you the wrong idea.”

  “I don’t believe that. I can tell this is more than just fucking!” I can’t help myself. I know our relationship doesn’t just center around sex. I know that what Luc and I have is more. And I know he knows it too.

  “And what would you know?” he scoffs angrily. “We have no future without damaging your career! And I told you that I have too many issues than are fair to burden you with!”

  I shake my head, feeling angry tears prick at my eyes. “What the hell, Luc? One second you are hot and the next second you’re cold! What’s the point of going to dinner together or spending time together, if I’m just a girl you’re casually screwing?”

  “Please, don’t be this way,” he says, his voice pained.

  “What other way should I be? I thought we talked about spending more time together. That we were going to ‘try’ this? Now, you’ve changed your mind? I can’t keep up with the mood swings!”

  “And that’s exactly the problem,” he agrees as if I’ve confirmed what he already thought.

  Shit.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I quickly say.

  “But that’s the problem,” he says quietly. “My moods. My depression. That is part of my illness.”

  “But I told you that I didn’t care about that. That we could work around that.”

  Luc frowns and stands up, running his hand through his hair before crossing his arms across his chest. He looks at me, then turns away and takes a few steps. I can feel him distancing himself from me. Not just physically, but emotionally.

  “Luc,” I say, and this time I can’t hide the desperation from my voice.

  “Madison.” He turns around and his eyes are wild with emotions – fear, pain, and concern. “I can’t do this to you! Do you know how much I wanted to meet your parents? How I wanted to do that for you because I knew it was important to you and because I care about you? But how could I have? How could we have explained that? What do you think your parents would have thought?”

  “They wouldn’t have cared,” I say stubbornly, but I know that’s not true. I’m sure the age difference would have bothered them --especially my father being that I was Daddy’s Little Girl, but it’s not like the age difference was that much. I think my mother would have been more lax about it. But the teacher part would probably have been hard for both of them. I could see how they would both think that Luc crossed a line since he was my professor. They would assume that he was taking advantage of his position.

  But no way am I going to admit any of this to Luc. I’m not going to help validate his ridiculous arguments.

  Luc fixes me with a stern look. “Like hell they wouldn’t have cared. Who knows? They could think I was with you to help further my career.”

  “Huh?”

  “Sleeping with the daughter of two very successful music artists. That would certainly help put me on the map, wouldn’t it?”

  “My parents –no –’’ I sputter, “They wouldn’t think such a thing!”

  But would they?

  “Please, Maddie. Be realistic. It was wrong of me to let this go on. I shouldn’t have pursued this with you.”

  What? Is he crazy? What the hell has just happened in the past five minutes?

  “Luc,” I say and this time my voice is shaking. “I don’t understand what is happening here. I thought I was coming over to spend time with you. I thought you missed me. And now – I don’t really understand what is happening now.”

  “I’m sorry, Maddie. This is my fault. I should have known better. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I should have controlled myself. I could lose my job and I could ruin your career. Those just aren’t chances I’m willing to take, not to mention my fragile emotional state. I think it’s better if we just stop seeing each other.”

  “Luc, you can’t be serious.”

  He won’t look at me. “I am serious. This is wrong. I would still like to continue your private lessons though. I mean, if you want to, of course.”

  “Luc! Stop. You don’t mean this!”

  “I do.”

  “Look at me.”

  He looks at me, his gaze steady, but I can see the pain in his eyes. He doesn’t want this.

&nbs
p; “I don’t believe you,” I say stubbornly.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice is flat. He turns away from me again.

  I jump up off the couch. I’m too angry and I have too much pride for this. “You are full of shit,” I hiss, unable to hide my anger. “And no, I do not want to continue lessons with you!” I hastily grab my coat, not bothering to put it on. I’m about to burst into tears and I can’t stay inside his apartment for one more minute.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Luc

  I turn and watch Maddie grab for her coat, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from calling out to her. Maddie is no fool, and she sees right through my lame excuses, but I can’t back down. I can’t ruin her career before it starts – she’s too talented. And she certainly deserves better than being burdened by my bipolar disorder. She’s too young for that.

  I hang my head with shame, feeling worse than if I had actually only been interested in just fucking her.

  “You’re a liar,” she accuses, and her voice breaks. I can tell that she is near tears, which only makes me feel lousier. “And a coward. I know this isn’t what you want, but it’s easier this way for you.” Her gaze burns through me. “Who is the immature one now?” she demands. “I was willing to work on this, I was willing-’’ her voice cracks, “to try – to try to find a way. But you won’t even do that.” She lets out a sob, and mortified, her hand flies to her mouth to cover the sound.

  I cave. “Maddie, please,” I go to her, but she backs up against the door as if I might burn her.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  “Please, let’s just talk some more.” Why, oh why can’t I stick with what I intended to do?

  “No!” she sobs, and then she wrenches open the door and flies down the hallway.

  “Fuck!” I go out into the hallway, but she’s already running down the stairwell. “Maddie! Please!”

  But it’s too late. I should go down and chase her, but I don’t. I remind myself that this is what I have to do, whether I want to or not. I don’t go to the window, but instead go into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine. I drink the contents in two gulps and pour myself another.