by Mia Belle
Skyville Boys
By
Mia Belle
Copyright © 2019 Mia Belle.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to real life, movies, television, games, or books is entirely coincidental and was not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter One
Kara
The “Welcome to the beautiful town of Skyville, Pennsylvania” sign smiles at me from outside the passenger window. There’s a bright yellow sun painted over of the words, giving the illusion that the small town in the southernmost tip of the state is an everlasting sunny paradise. A total contrast to the rainy October weather outside.
Not that I’m complaining. It’s not that different from New York City. Still, I wonder if I’ll be able to move on from the past and try to live a normal life here. If my own sun will shine over my cloudy, rainy self.
My younger sister, Kitty, kicks my seat from behind. For the hundredth time.
“Dad, she’s doing it again,” I complain.
“Kit,” Dad warns as he keeps his eyes on the road.
She kicks harder.
Unbuckling my belt, I twist over the seat and glare at her. “You’re acting like you’re five instead of eleven!”
She folds her arms and stares at her shoes, her lower lip quivering. “I don’t want you to go.”
With a sigh, I flop back in the seat and fold my own arms. I won’t let her guilt me into staying in NYC.
“Come on, Kara.” Now she’s unbuckled her belt and is leaning over my seat. “It’s still not too late to turn back.”
“Kitty, I made up my mind.”
“But—”
“Dad,” I complain again.
“Kitty, your sister’s made her decision. You need to respect it.”
“But she’s gonna miss Mom’s opening night.”
“I’ve seen her during rehearsals.”
“It’s not the same as an actual performance. You know that. And you know how insensitive you’re being? She’s worked so hard to land a role, and now she’s Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady. Eliza Doolittle, Kara. And her own daughter won’t be there to support her.”
My heart constricts.
“And what about you, huh?” she continues. “What about your career? You’re just throwing it away. You’re throwing your life away.”
Kitty could be quite overdramatic.
“People are gonna forget you. They’re gonna forget your face and your name and your talent. You’ll be a nobody.”
Good. I want to be a nobody.
“Broadway’s ‘It Girl’ will become Broadway’s shi—”
“Katelyn,” Dad scolds.
I didn’t think she’d take this so hard. I thought my mom would, but she’s actually totally okay with it. Maybe because she’s more worried about my safety than my career. Kitty doesn’t know exactly what went down the last few months, but I’m sure she knows more than we think. She’s too perceptive for her age. She’s never been the kind of person to let anything or anyone get in her way, though, so maybe that’s why she doesn’t understand why I had to leave New York. Why I’m running away.
“Ah, here we are,” Dad announces.
I glance out the window, taking in the homey-looking white house I’ve visited every summer since I was born. The homey-looking house that will be my new home.
Dad, Kitty, and I pile out of the car, Dad running to the trunk to retrieve my bags. Kitty watches him with miserable eyes, and gifted actor that she is, she’s putting on quite the show. Once again, it takes all I have not to crumble under the guilt invading every part of me.
I gather a few bags and follow Dad and Kitty up the stairs, where Kitty jabs her finger into the bell.
“Good, no one’s home. Guess we’ll have to head back.” Kitty hops down the stairs, her jet-black pigtails bouncing with every step.
“Nice try,” I say. “Grandma left us a spare key.” I dig into one of her potted plants until I find it.
Kitty scowls as I stab the key into the lock and push the door open. The scent attacks my nose the second I walk inside. It smells like my grandma. Like the summer. Like childhood happiness. Hopefully it’ll rub off on me and give me some teenage happiness.
Kitty leaps onto the couch and folds her hands underneath her head.
“Kitty, give us a hand,” Dad says as he lugs in my largest suitcase.
“Pass. I don’t support this move.”
“Kitty,” he stresses.
“You and Mom are always going on about how we need to be strong women and be assertive and state our opinions and not follow blindly when we don’t agree with something. So this is me not following blindly.”
It seems Dad doesn’t have the energy to deal with her right now. I know I’ve put him through the ringer the past few months. I bet he’s secretly glad I’m moving in with my grandma.
“I wanted to surprise you with ice cream,” Dad says as he heaves two bags up the stairs to my room, “but you can forget about that with that attitude.”
“Don’t want ice cream, anyway.”
“She’s not even a teenager,” Dad grumbles as he and I roll my suitcases into my room.
“She’s been in show business since she was three years old, Dad. She’s seen far too much in her young life.”
He sighs as he shovels his hand through his blond hair. Dad didn’t grow up in the spotlight like Mom and Grandma did. He looks out of his element most of the time. But he’s always been one hundred percent supportive of our dreams.
“I’ll get the rest of my bags,” I offer.
Kitty is still lying on the couch when I get back down. I’m tempted to yell at her for being so inconsiderate and selfish, but I know her attitude is coming from a painful place. Instead of hauling my last two bags upstairs, I sit down on the couch near her feet. This close, I can see tears gathering in her eyes.
“I know you’l
l miss me, Kitty Kat, but I’m only two hours away. You can visit anytime you want. And we’ll video chat as often as you want.”
She sits up. “It’s not about that.” More tears collect in her eyes.
I wrap my arm around her. “Then what’s it about?”
“How am I supposed to do any of this without you?”
“Any of what?”
“My shows. Duh, what else?”
“What are you talking about? You landed your first commercial at three, were in your first movie at four, starred in three more movies and one TV show after that, and you made your Broadway debut five months ago in School of Rock. You’re amazing.”
“But Broadway is your world, Kara. I’ve always looked up to you. You work so hard and are so dedicated and you’re like the most talented person in the world. You’re my hero. Now you’re throwing it all away.”
Her kind and sweet words cause my own eyes to fill with tears. “I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”
“Shut up, loser.”
I laugh as I squeeze her shoulder. “I just need a break, Kitty.”
Her eyes light up. “So you’ll come back soon?”
I hesitate. “I don’t know. I can’t promise I will.”
“What are you going to do in this useless town? There isn’t even a theater.”
“Philly’s not that far. And Grandma’s days are packed with performances. She’s never bored.”
“You’re not a legend like her. At least not yet. And you won’t be if you quit theater.”
“No one said I’m quitting, Kitty. Just taking a break.”
It would be much easier to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to scare her. Besides, I’m pretty sure she has a rough idea, though she’s mature enough not to bring it up.
Dad comes down the stairs. “You girls good?”
“We’re good,” I say.
“Speak for yourself,” Kitty mutters as Dad takes up the last of my bags.
Just then, the door opens and my grandmother walks in, carrying a bag of groceries. She’s dressed in a hot pink shirt and jeans, her hair pulled back in a ponytail—jet-black, like all the girls in the fam. And yes, my grandmother wears jeans.
“Grandma!” Kitty and I leap off the couch and bound toward her.
“Grandma?” she demands. “I don’t see any grandmas here.”
“Darla,” I quickly correct.
My grandmother is pretty young as grandmothers go, since she had Mom at sixteen. She’s a true legend in the theater world, my hero and inspiration. Crazy talented and free spirited, she changed her surname to Starr, because she believed she was a true star. She’s far too gifted for anyone to call her cocky. I have no idea how she managed it all while being an awesome single mother. Mom inherited the name and passed it on to Kitty and me as well.
I take the bag from her as Kitty throws herself into her arms. “Tell Kara she’s making a big mistake. Tell her she’s killing her career. Tell her she can’t quit!”
Grandma kisses the top of her black hair. “I’m not one to tell someone what to do. Look at these pigtails.” She tugs one. “So adorable.”
“Adorable?” Kitty pulls out of the hug and makes a face. “I’m too old for adorable.”
“Not in my books.” Her eyes move to mine. “Kara, sweetheart.” She envelops me in her arms. “So glad to have you move in with me. I was just out grocery shopping. Sorry, I don’t exactly know what to buy for a teenager. Your mother always does the shopping when you guys are in town. Are you still on a dairy-free diet?”
“What’s the point if she’s not gonna sing anymore,” Kitty mumbles.
I playfully slap her arm, but she dodges.
Dad climbs down the steps, his face dancing with surprise when he notices my grandma. “Darla, hello.”
“Hello, favorite son-in-law.”
He grins. “I’m your only son-in-law.”
“Yes, but if I did have another son-on-law, you’d be my favorite.”
I smile. They do this every time.
“How’s my wonderful daughter?” Grandma asks as she carries the grocery bag into the kitchen.
“Busy prepping for opening night.” Kitty digs in the bag and plucks out an apple, taking a huge bite. The juice drips down her chin and plops onto her Hakuna Matata shirt.
“Of course. It’s been her dream role to play Eliza Doolittle since she was a little girl, since I played the role on Broadway, say, thirty years ago.”
“She’s nervous everyone’s gonna compare her performance to yours,” Kitty says as she takes another bite. “But I told her not to worry. She’s a badass and she’ll kill it.”
Grandma smiles as she kisses the top of her head. “I love this kid.”
“Duh. Everyone does. I am Broadway’s Sweetheart.” Another chomp on the apple.
“I read the article online,” Grandma says. “They say you are quite the little star.” She tugs on one of her pigtails again.
Kitty beams. “Always ready to make the name proud. You read the headline? ‘A new Starr is born.’”
Another tug on her other pigtail. “Sure did. You are definitely making the name proud.”
Kitty gives me the evil eye. “Unlike some people.”
“Don’t you have to head back?” I say. “Kitty has a show tonight.”
“Trying to change the subject,” she calls me out.
I shrug.
“Your sister’s right,” Dad says. “We should head back so you can rest before your performance.” He gathers me in his arms. “I’m going to miss you, my Kara bear.”
“Oh no,” I joke as I wrap my arms around him. “You haven’t called me that in ages.” I kiss his cheek. “I’ll miss you like crazy, too. But I’m just a couple hours away. You guys can visit like every weekend.”
“Or you can come up to the Big Apple,” Kitty points out.
Dad and I lock eyes. That’s definitely not a good idea. And I’m not even sure if my family driving down to Skyville is a good idea, either. He might catch wind of where I ran off to and come looking for me here.
“Have a safe trip,” I tell them. I look at Kitty, who stands there with a frown and her arms crossed. “Don’t tell me you’re not going to say goodbye.”
“It’s very tempting,” she says. Then she rolls her eyes. “Too bad I love you too much.”
She holds onto the hug for a very long time, hiccupping a few times. There’s quite a battle going on between my heart and my brain, but my brain wins. I pull away and kiss the top of her head. “Kill it for me tonight.”
She raises her chin. “Are you kidding? I kill it every night.”
We say a few more goodbyes as Grandma and I escort Dad and Kitty to the door. She throws herself at me. “I’m not gonna miss you.”
“I know. I’m not gonnna miss you, either.”
“I’m totally hijacking your room.”
“You’re totally not hijacking my room.” I squeeze her close to my chest until she cries that she can’t breathe. And then I get the air squeezed out of me when Dad gives me another hug.
And then we smoosh in a group hug.
Finally, finally, the car pulls away. Grandma slings her arm over my shoulder as she leads me back into the house. “Are you hungry?”
“Feels like I swallowed a rock.”
“It’ll get easier. When I left my little town in Alabama for New York City, I was all alone. I didn’t know a single soul—”
“I know, Darla. You tell us this story every summer. You were so homesick the first month that you hardly ate, hardly slept. And that didn’t help with auditions.”
“And then I woke up one morning with the realization that I couldn’t go on like this. I was flushing my dreams down the toilet. So what did I do?”
“You told yourself to get a grip, started eating right and getting enough sleep. And then bam! You got your first callback.”
She presses her cheek to mine. “The rest, as they say, is history.”
“Except you’re forgetting one thing,” I say as I accept an apple from her. “I don’t have any dreams.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, kid. You do have a dream. But maybe you haven’t yet figured out what it is.”
The truth is, I didn’t want to quit theater. I didn’t want to move to this small town. I want to stand on a Broadway stage again. I want to continue living my dream.
But someone took that away from me. He took away my sense of security, he tore me away from my family, and he squashed my dreams.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be the person I once was.
Chapter Two
Jax
“C’mon, dude. I’m starving.”
Carter ignores me as he continues rifling through some records.
I look over at Ezra, who’s checking out the guitars on display. He has no intention of buying it or any other instrument in the store—he gets a kick out of perusing items he doesn’t plan to buy. I don’t really get it. But he’s one of my best friends.
“Yo, Ez,” I call. “In the mood for Italian?”
He, too, ignores me. Examines the guitars carefully like he’s actually going to buy something.
“Seriously, am I the only one dying from starvation here?”
The bell over the door jingles as someone walks in. This place hardly gets any customers—the young people usually buy their instruments from a store a few blocks away, and most of them don’t even know what records are. The only reason this place still exists is because of the few people in Skyville who actually buy and listen to this old music. And the random tourist who happens to stop by.
I stumble back when I take in the newest customer. And then I start to hyperventilate. “G-guys,” I choke out. “Guys!”
Carter looks up from his browsing and smirks. “Check it out. Jax’s future wife just walked in.”
Ezra spins around, his eyes zeroing in on the sixteen-year-old girl who marches to the stash of old albums. He, too, smirks.
“What’s she doing here?” I hiss. “It’s not the summer, is it?”
Ezra rolls his eyes. “No, Jax. It’s not the summer.”
“Then what the heck is she doing here?”
“Um, maybe go over and actually say something to her?”
I blink a few times, my breathing still labored. I watch as she flips through the albums, her nose twisting.