by RH Tucker
Getting up to the second story, Winston and Stephanie are sitting at a table, arguing.
“No, I did not say that,” Winston says.
“You did,” Steph counters.
Winston pushes up his glasses, then adjusts the business coat he has on. “I said your subscribers will watch you do anything.”
“Ergo, they don’t care what I’m doing. Ergo, they don’t care at all.”
“Ergo, stop saying ergo.”
I watch as she scowls at him but juts out her bottom lip in a pouty expression. Tonight is the first time seeing them together, and the back-and-forth that they’ve been parrying each other with. It’s like arguing but flirting at the same time. Whatever advice Maddox gave him, it hasn’t changed him, but he definitely is more confident than I remember from our first couple of meetings.
I hear Maddox’s music die down in the speakers throughout the building and glance back, looking down at the first floor. I can’t really see down to his stage area, but I’m expecting him to come up the stairs any second. Instead, a waitress walks up the stairs, and heads over to the corner, checking on a couple of other guests on the second floor.
“What’s going on?” Steph asks.
“Nothing,” I answer, but don’t really believe it. “I’ve just been wanting to talk to Maddox since the dinner. He hasn’t seemed very anxious to talk about it.”
“Can you blame him?” Steph says, laughing. “Your father showed up to a date you two had planned. Your dad blocked him.”
“Blocked?”
She starts giggling, then looks over at Winston, who doesn’t understand her either. “Vagected? Clam jammed? Cockblocked?”
“Okay, okay!” I throw my hands in the air. “I get it. And please never mention those things again while also talking about my father.”
“Fine, but you know what I’m saying.”
I glance around again, but still no sign of him. “I’ll be back.”
Heading down to the first floor, the main stage area is empty, with an automated track pumping the music through the system for the crowd in the building. Making my way toward his room backstage, I walk in and see he’s on his phone.
“I don’t know what to do,” he says sharply into the phone. “Would you stop saying that? I’m not going to—” His words come to a halt when he sees me in the room. “I gotta go,” he says quickly, hanging up the phone. “Hey, what’s up?”
Coming closer, I move to give him a hug, and he seems to stiffen. With my arms still around him, I look up at him, confused. “Everything okay?”
A hard line crosses his brow and he backs away. “Yeah, everything’s good.”
“Okay.” I stare back, unsure why something feels off. “So, we’re okay since the other night, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“With my father at dinner and everything. I know I apologized and was kind of out of the blue, but … I mean, we’re good?”
His jade green eyes examine me, and I almost expect him to say no. That we’re not good and he’s upset that my father was there or that something’s wrong. I’m used to cocky Maddox. I’ve grown fond of real Maddox. The guy standing in front of me seems to be neither of those two.
“Yeah.” He nods, looking away. “We’re good.”
His words sound off. “Are you sure? You haven’t been acting your normal self today.” I add a giggle, mostly because I’m getting a little uncomfortable trying to figure out what’s happening. “Did he say something after I left? I know he can come off as intimidating, but he’s really not like that. It’s mostly his business face.”
Maddox’s glare doesn’t waver. He seems as if he’s searching for the right thing to say. Maybe my father did try to intimidate him, and he’s worried about telling me. But then his face softens, and he gives me a half smile. “He just wants what’s best for you.”
I smile. “Exactly. But he also knows I know what I want. He wants me to be happy, too.”
Another weak smile from him, this time followed by a defeated chuckle. “Right.” Reaching down, he grabs a water bottle and takes a quick drink. “You know, I think I might be getting sick or something. That’s why I’ve been off.”
“Oh no.” I step closer to give him another hug, but he holds his hand up, stopping me.
“Don’t.” It’s not harsh, but it still makes me feel like he’s rejecting me. A small grin comes over him, and he waves it off. “I mean, if I am getting sick, I don’t want you to catch it. I’ll just power through my next set and head home.”
I stare back at him, unsure. Unsure of what, I have no idea. He has no reason to make up a lie about being sick, but everything about our interaction feels off.
“Okay, then. I hope you feel better. Um, text me in the morning if you want some chicken soup or something,” I add with a smirk, trying to get a laugh out of him, but I get nothing.
The stage manager opens the door, alerting him about his next set. “Five minutes, Maddox.”
“Thanks.”
I glance around the small room, still feeling uneasy. There’s like a thick cloud of confusion encircling us, but I have no idea what it’s from. I guess it could be from him being sick, but I feel like it’s something else. I just wish I knew what.
“I guess I’ll let you get back to work, DJ,” I tease, hoping it’s finally something that breaks this perplexing state I feel we’re in.
It doesn’t. He simply nods with a small smile, watching me leave the room.
25
Maddox
After the club, I see Cece walking down the stairs, most likely to meet me before I leave, but I hurry through a crowd of people, waving to her and leave the club.
I was internally screaming at myself the entire night, unsure what to do. How am I supposed to break up with her? She’s not stupid. I think she could already tell I was acting weird, so I have no clue how to do this.
I told Adam everything after the dinner, and he said I should tell her. It’s not like I don’t want to. She undoubtedly should know the kind of man her father is and the ultimatum he’s giving me, but how in the hell am I supposed to do that? If I tell her, then what? Just let her know her father said if she’s with me, then she’ll be entirely cut off from her family and leave that decision up to her? Put all of that crap and the decision on her shoulders? I can’t do that.
Getting to the penthouse, I slam the door shut, sending an echo through the room. I glance to my side, and see Adam and Julian sitting on the couch, both of them eyeing me carefully.
“Sorry,” I say, then head to the kitchen. I need a drink.
I hear hushed whispers from them as I enter the kitchen. Opening the freezer, I pull out a bottle of liquor and grab a glass. After pouring a shot into it, I down it quickly.
“Easy there, bub,” Adam says, walking into the kitchen.
“I’m completely screwed. I have no idea how to do this.”
He leans against the counter, taking the bottle away from me, screwing the cap back on. “Then don’t do it. Tell her.”
My head drops backward, and I let out a loud groan. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes. You can. She should know.”
“And then what?” I shout. “Just tell her that her dad is a piece of crap that said if she stays with me, he’ll cut her out of their lives? ‘Hey, Cece, I know this sucks, but will you choose me over your mom and little brother?’ You’re crazy.”
“And you’re crazy if you think you’re gonna be able to somehow break up with her and be fine after. It’ll eat you alive. You’ve never felt about someone like you do with her. If you think you’re gonna be able to figure out a way to break up with her, especially under this threat from her father, and you’re going to turn out okay on the other end?” He lets out an incredulous chuckle. “You’re only fooling yourself.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You do!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m telling you what your choice is right now. Will i
t suck? Absolutely. Will there be a huge rift in her family because of it? Definitely! But that’s not on you, man. That’s on her asshole of a father for doing this. And she deserves to know.”
I can’t respond. Everything he’s saying makes sense, but then it all comes back to Cece and her feelings. I try to imagine someone telling me I have to choose between being with the Kings or playing music on my own. Or worse, choosing between my sister, or Derrik and EJ, who’ve become my family. If someone told me I could only make music with one or the other, I’d hate it. And I’d hate whoever gave me that choice. Yes, her father is doing this, but if I tell her, then I’m the one laying down that choice. I’m the one asking her to choose between her family or me.
Staring back at him, he offers a sympathetic stare. A broken chuckle floats out of me. “Damn. We are two sorry Hollywood losers, aren’t we?”
“What are you talking about?”
I take the bottle back from him and start undoing the cap. “We both want things to change and are completely helpless to do anything about it.”
I expect some kind of laughing response. Not a funny laugh, but more of a commiserating chuckle. Instead, I hear disdain. “Excuse you?”
I shrug. “I’m just saying, we’ve got these obstacles that we can’t do anything about. We—”
“No,” he cuts me off, taking the bottle back from me. “No, our situations are completely different. I can’t come out, Maddox. You’re giving up.”
“Screw you, I’m not giving up. And the hell you can’t. You can and you don’t want to.”
I’ve known Adam long enough to know when I’ve struck a chord. We’ve never had a fight, or even an argument. I think the most we’ve ever had is a disagreement about which party to attend for the weekend. But the way he’s staring at me, it’s like he wants to hit me.
“You’re full of shit, you know that?” he shouts. “You don’t have a damn clue about what you’re talking about when it comes to me.”
I should back down. He’s absolutely right that I don’t know what he’s going through or the emotions he has to fight with. I don’t know how he’ll be perceived and received if and when he ever comes out of the closet. But I don’t back down. I’m still pissed off over everything with Cece, and my anger is all directed toward him.
“No, but I know a coward when I see one.”
“Really? I guess you haven’t looked in the mirror in the last twenty-four hours, then. You want to talk about being a coward? How about you being too scared to take a chance and lay everything out? Huh, how about that? But no, the King of Bad is just going to piss it all away and resort back to random, meaningless hookups.”
“I already told you—”
“And I told you, you’re full of shit. If nothing else, she should know the kind of dickhead her father is.” He shakes his head at me, and the anger fades, but not the disappointment. Then he shoves the bottle of whisky back into my hand. “Here, drink the night away and mope in your own excuses, what do I care? I’m just your best friend. But don’t ever think you understand what my world is like because you have no idea. You got that?”
He doesn’t wait for a response, even if there wouldn’t be one vocally. I know I stepped over the line. However, the frustration over everything still keeps the embarrassment at bay, and I undo the cap on the bottle again.
Pouring another shot into the cup, I down it, and pull out my phone. For a half second, I scroll through my text messages and think Adam’s right. I see Cece’s name and wonder if I should call her and explain everything.
Then, I see Jenny’s last text message she sent me, halfway down my screen. Like a flash of light, an idea forms, and my stomach turns over. I pull up her contact info and hit the call button.
“Hey, you,” she answers, and I can already hear the smile in her voice. “I was wondering if I’d ever hear from you again.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I was … going through some stuff.”
“Oh, I hope everything’s okay.”
“It will be,” I reply, taking a deep breath. Pouring a third shot of whisky, I down it. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
I hate myself. It’s a new feeling, because up until tonight, I’ve always thought I was awesome. I’m a King. A rock star. Ever since this whirlwind life started, I’ve been sitting on top of the world. Then, that world got flipped upside down meeting Cece, and though it was a complete one-eighty, I was still happy. No, beyond happy. I think I was starting to fall in love.
I know, right? Maddox Barkley in love? But damn it, I think I was.
And now, I just saw Jenny walk into the club, and I absolutely loathe who I am and what I’m about to do. Don’t misunderstand me, I still think it’s for the greater good. It’s still the best option I can come up with, but it’s an utterly disgusting idea.
Jenny eyes me, and I nod to the backstage area where she knows my room is. I’ve seen Cece a couple of times already, but as I look for her again, she’s nowhere to be found. I’m still not sure how I’m going to make this plan go off without a hitch.
As I wind down my first set, I search the area again, but still no Cece. She’s most likely busy with everything else that goes into running this place, which just adds more guilt on my shoulders. Regardless, it has to be done.
Getting backstage, Jenny is on her phone, and as I take a seat next to her on the couch, she gives me a hug. “I’ve missed you, Maddox.”
“Aw, thanks,” I reply, trying to sound calm.
“I have to be honest; I know you’re not known for doing the whole ‘serious’ thing,” she says, making air quotes. “But what would you say about maybe trying it out?” She takes my hand in hers, and as I look back at her, her expression is a mixture of uncertainty.
Wow. My plan is going to completely trash two girls in one night. I don’t know if I could feel more pathetic if I tried.
“Maybe,” I lie to her.
While my brain is still swirling with ideas of a way to get Cece to catch us in here, my door opens, and she steps in, holding a small box. “Maddox, I know you said you weren’t feeling good, so I got some cold medicine,” she says with a smile. It immediately vanishes when she sees Jenny and me sitting next to one another, her hand still in mine. “What … what’s going on here?”
I take a deep breath. “Hey, what’s up, Cece?” I say in the most carefree tone I can. “This is Jenny. Jenny, Cece.”
“Hi,” Jenny says with the utmost sincerity.
Cece takes a cautionary step closer. “Maddox, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I reply, lifting my shoulders like I don’t understand what she means.
Her eyes jump to Jenny, and the red mini-dress she’s wearing. Coming back to me, a scowl forms over her. “What the hell is this?”
Her harsh tone is enough to force Jenny to look over at me. “Um, what’s going on?”
I lean back on the couch, spreading my arms out. “What? We’re just having a good time. Nothing to freak out over.”
Cece’s face drops. “A good time? Wait … what? Why is this happening right now?”
“Are you two …” Jenny gives me a perplexed gaze. “Maddox, are you two together?”
I swallow down the guilt and embarrassment, and let out what hopefully sounds like a careful chuckle. “Together? Jenny, you know I’m too young to settle down.” I glance back up at Cece. “Why are you so surprised? You knew our deal, boss.”
“Our deal? Our deal!” she screams, throwing the box of medicine at me. “What the hell, Maddox? I thought … you said this was different. What was all that talk about being the real you and how—” Her words cut off. Her hand comes up, first to her forehead, then her mouth. Complete shock taking over her.
I bite the inside of my cheek, and I think I draw blood. I do everything in my power to keep an arrogant smirk over my face.
“Was—” Cece starts, but closes her eyes, trying to get the words out. “Was anything ever real?”
I don�
��t know how to respond to that. If I say no, it’d undoubtedly ends it all. That’s what’s supposed to happen. But I can’t bring myself to say it. Instead, I swallow and shrug my shoulders.
It’s like we’re all frozen in the room. Cece in shock, myself in fake indifference, and Jenny confused. I don’t know how this is going to end. All I know is that it has to. I have to put the proverbial nail in the coffin.
I try to think about what I might have said a few months ago. What would the King of Bad do?
“It was fun, Cece, but that’s all it was … Fun. Hey, if you want, I’m down for a threesome tonight.”
Jenny lets out a loud scoff. Cece keeps her hateful gaze locked on me. Then she spins around and heads out of the room.
“Were you two dating?” Jenny asks.
There’s complete skepticism across her face for a moment. When I don’t give her a quick answer, the look turns to hesitancy.
“She thought we were,” I reply.
“Wait, if you knew that, then why did you call—”
Her voice shuts off, and when I glance back at her, she’s staring at me like she doesn’t recognize me. If I was looking in a mirror, I’d probably have the same expression on my face. No, that’s not true. I’d know exactly who’d be looking at me. A rock star who is more interested in partying than falling in love.
“Oh my God,” she whispers with her hand over her mouth. “Did you … Please don’t tell me you called me here tonight for this.”
It’s time to pull the Band-Aid off of this gushing wound. It’s not helping anyway. Lifting my shoulders, I smirk. “I’m still down to have some fun if you are.”
She slaps me across the face. It’s not hard, and I think she does it more out of shock than anything else, but it stings. Not the physicality of it but everything that’s behind it.
“I always knew you were the bad boy. I never knew you were actually an asshole.”
She marches toward the door, swinging it open, and slams it shut.