Chapter 85 The Beach Looked Familiar
the beach looked familiar
Billie
“Billie, Nikki, and Sven, meet Dan Rosenberg,” my brother Kit says, his wide, movie star smile on full display as he introduces us to the executive producer of his new movie.
We’re in LA to work on the soundtrack for the film.
Dan has reservations about bringing an unknown band to the table for a tentpole of a summer film.
It’s an action film with lots of explosions and a hot romance, and normally, they’d contract with a hot, current band to tap into that band’s fan base for added support.
“Kit has told me you’re all going to be the next hot thing,” Dan says, his teeth white and straight, his tan golden.
He’s in a crisp, white shirt that opens to show a gold cross necklace.
He’s one of those slick Hollywood types that I always hated when I was growing up.
Smiling widely, ready to devour people like wolves devour prey.
I bristle at it, folding my arms over my chest, my scowl deepening with each word of the lecture he gives us.
He loves Kit. Kit’s a rainmaker. He’s got faith in Kit’s taste, and he’s willing to take a listen, but he’s not giving away the farm for free.
He needs something real, something that sells.
He’s willing to give us a chance, but he’s not making any guarantees.
He stops short of acting like he’s giving us some great gift by deigning to make time to listen to us play, but it’s certainly there, in between the sharky smile and “pep talk.”
By the time we head to the sound booth, where we’ll play two full songs for his oh-so-discerning musical ear, I’m in a rage that roars in my ears and makes me want to break my sticks.
I did not want to be here. I did not want this.
It feels like a handout, like a nepotistic sleight of hand that puts us in the limelight in the most inauthentic way.
Still, as we start our first song, a rager of a rock song with heavy guitars and a complicated, engaging drumbeat, I can see Kit’s eyes widen with surprise and awe, like he didn’t expect us to sound quite as good as we do.
We play through both songs, and I know we sound good.
I know Sven’s gravelly voice will curl toes.
I know Nikki and I present the image of two badass women who can hold it down with the best of them.
And as we finish, Dan and Kit step into the booth, both smiling, and I know the deal is done. There is no going back.
Dan claps Kit on the shoulder and leaves his hand there. A sign of ownership more than pride, I think, but he says, “Kit, my man, you are a genius. Holy fucking shit, these guys are good.”
My hackles raise at the “these guys.” Sexism is another part of Hollywood that I hate, along with Kit picking my battles.
“Let me get the team together and we can all meet tomorrow with the contracts, but let’s start you thinking about three full-length songs and a few filler cutaways.
We’ve got a live band scene in the film, so we’ll get you scene overviews and a casting contract as well.
You’ll need representation and we’ll call in a music studio to manage the sound and mixing for us. ”
I hear very little as we pack up our gear and head out, Kit announcing that he’s taking us all to dinner. He’s all smiles as we pile into the back of a huge, black SUV, like the benevolent benefactor who’s just made some significant philanthropic commitment.
I shove myself into the third row of seats and slump against the seat, pouting.
Nikki and Sven are bouncing in their seats with wide smiles that match my brother’s. They love this. They’re excited because this is what they’ve always wanted. They want fame and fortune. They wanted me to use my family to help us get noticed all along.
Well, here we are. And I should be happy because this is huge. But I’m just…not.
At the restaurant, I sit next to Kit, and he drapes his arm across the back of the booth, inclining his head toward mine. In a low voice, he asks, “Why are you being so weird about this?”
I shrug and mutter, “I didn’t want it to happen this way.”
“What way did you want it to happen?”
Nikki and Sven sit across from us, looking pointedly at their menus. They know why. They’ve heard it a million times.
“You know why,” I answer through gritted teeth.
“Because you like to scrape and fight for every bit of everything you attain? You want to get it through good old-fashioned hard work and elbow grease? You don’t like handouts?
” Kit chuckles and shakes his head. “Ninety-eight percent of success in this business comes from having the right connections at the right time.”
“This is an awesome opportunity, Billie,” Sven says. “Three full songs? An agent? A record deal?”
“We’re going to blow up after this,” Nikki says.
I take a sip from my water glass. “What if we’re not ready?”
Sven scoffs at this. “We’ve been ready. Sound wise, we’re ready. It’s you who’s not ready.”
Nikki softens this by adding, “Emotionally, he means. We know you’ve got…baggage.”
“Look,” Kit says. “You’ve got talent. The band is good. Why rage against the start of your own success?”
“It just…I didn’t want all the parading around. The guys like Dan. The games. I just wanted to make good music that people would want to hear.”
“We can,” Nikki answers. She reaches across the table and grabs my hand, her expression fierce.
Kit adds, “Look, make a name for yourself. Write three kick-ass songs and show the studios what you can do. Get a good agent to work a good deal for you, one that gives you as much control as possible.”
Control. He used that word on purpose. I know he’s felt like he wasn’t in control at many times during his career.
He was a late bloomer though, didn’t come into his looks or his talent until he was late in his teens.
When his career went full tilt, he was at least old enough to understand what was happening.
“It just isn’t for me, you know?” I start. “Getting dragged around like I’m on display. Having to dress up and walk the red carpet. Having to look pretty and put up with leering old men and just keep smiling and taking whatever crumbs people hand out.”
Sven rolls his eyes, but Nikki gets it, squeezing my hand. “We can do this on our terms.”
“You can,” Kit says. “You can play the game better. It doesn’t have to feel the way it did when you were younger.”
“You say that because you have power. And you didn’t get dragged around like I did. You got to go to school and have a normal childhood.”
“Let it go, sis. I begged Mom to take me out with you. I would have done anything to get to act when I was young. I loved it, but Mom thought I was a talentless, fat oaf.”
“Well, you were kind of fat…” I tease him, grinning.
“And you were more talented. I think she got it right, quite frankly, but she settled for supporting me once you said you were out of the game. Redoubled her efforts and helped me make the most of what small amount of talent I had.”
“And look at you now.”
I smile at my brother because I am genuinely proud of him.
He has done well. He’s one of the most recognizable faces in movies today, as evidenced by the ten people who’ve come to our booth looking for selfies or autographs tonight.
Will that be me? Our band? Will we never be able to eat out in peace again? Do I want that?
Our meals come, and we dig in, the conversation moving to the plot of the film and the tone Kit hopes we can convey through the songs we’ll write.
My mood lightens with the creative process this inspires, and I find myself feeling much better as we finish the night, heading back to the hotel, where Nikki and Sven head off to the bar while Kit and I decide to take a walk around the city.
“I know this is happening really fast,” he says, holding my hand as we walk.
I gesture to where our hands meet and say, “The paparazzi will wonder what woman you’re with now.”
He gives me a half-hearted grin. “I don’t give a shit. Plus, they’re so creepy, they’ll have it figured out pretty quickly that you’re my sister.”
“I know this is a good opportunity,” I say on a sigh. “I know you were trying to help.”
“And I know why it makes you uncomfortable. But you’re so good. Seriously. I knew you’d be good, but you blew me away in there today. All three of you did, but the way you drum, Bill? It’s…” He lets out a breath and shakes his head.
“Thanks,” is all I can seem to come up with. It feels good to have him say it, to say I’m talented.
“Mom always saw that talent, too, you know.”
“I don’t want to talk about Mom.” My tone is sharp.
He puts up his free hand. “Okay. Sorry.” A few steps without talking, then, “How’s your boyfriend? I saw some grainy pictures in the tabloids. The beach looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite make out who he was doinking.”
My brother gets a sharp elbow to the ribs for that. He yelps.
“So mortifying,” I say, throwing a hand over my eyes.
“Whatever,” he says, dismissing me. “It happens to me all the time. It’s the downside of dating famous people. The press is always around the next corner, waiting to catch a flash of your ass or a fuck-up.”
“Well, thankfully, no one’s ass was in that picture.”
Kit laughs. “Though it seemed quite obvious what was happening, even with the poor photo quality.”
“Did Mom and Dad see it?” I dare to ask.
“Probably,” he says with a one-shoulder shrug. “But they know how it goes. You’d have heard about it already if they were upset.”
“Truth.”
“So, you didn’t really tell me how Calum is.”
“And you know, I only brought him to keep Mom from trying to fix me up with some producer’s son or whatever.”
“Well, in spite of that, you two clearly have a thing for each other. I mean, I hire fake dates all the time, but I don’t screw them on the beach outside my childhood home.”
“Touché, brother.” I let out an embarrassed laugh. “Well, we’re still figuring things out to tell you the truth. I just know it’s real for both of us.”
“You like him?”
“I do.” It comes out quietly, as images of our last night together play in my head.
I think about it often, the sweet way he tried to show me how he feels.
Nothing got resolved, we didn’t talk about what we are to each other, but being with him felt incredibly right.
More right than I’ve ever felt with anyone, and it scares me. A lot.
“Well, I like you two together, for whatever it’s worth. He’s kind of awkward, but I think he really likes you.”
“Awkward is an understatement. He’s probably on the spectrum but he’s so brilliant. He’s a genius on the ice and he has a really good heart.”
“And you have chemistry,” Kit adds.
“And we have chemistry.” So much. Loads of chemistry. “What about you? Haven’t seen you with a new, young starlet in a bit.”
He makes a noise of disgust. “I’m so sick of it. The studios always try to make it look like I’m having some fling with whatever costar I have. Helps sell movies. Makes me look like a womanizer. It’s so fucking stupid.”
I’ve always known that most of Kit’s “relationships” were not real.
A few have been questionable, but he’s a good team player, a good company man, and a good actor.
People believe it when he looks into some young ingenue’s eyes, believes he really feels what he portrays on screen.
Believes that chemistry could translate to real life.
“So, no one, then?”
He swallows and pulls his hand from mine, rubbing it along his artfully stubbled chin.
“Kit?” I press.
“There is…someone.” He chokes it out like he’s expelling a demon. “I’m in love, I think.”
“What?” I can’t contain my surprise. “With whom?”
“His name is Josh,” he says quietly, looking around to make sure no one is straining to hear our conversation.
The street is busy with people, most who don’t seem to notice the presence of an A-list celebrity in their midst. A few do double takes but likely think there’s no way he could be here, wandering around like some commoner.
“Josh,” I repeat quietly, taking in the implication. “So…”
“Yeah,” he answers quickly.
My brother is gay, and I didn’t know it! “Since when?”
“Since birth?” he says. Then, “I’ve always known but that’s not what they want, you know? It doesn’t sell movies.”
A weight settles in my stomach when I think of what this means for him.
He’s got money and power and a career that is on fire, but he has to prance around with young actresses instead of being with the person he loves.
Talk about a loss of control. And now I feel like a tool.
How have I missed this? Missed knowing that my brother is forced to lie every day?
“People would understand,” I say.
“Would they? Would the people from Ohio and Mississippi and Montana all accept their golden boy leading man if they knew that, in real life, he was in love with another man? The studio understands. Josh lives in the apartment next to mine. He’s my neighbor to anyone else.
To me? He’s everything, and I can’t tell the world.
” The bitterness in his voice is palpable.
I take his hand again. “I’m so sorry, Kit.”
“Yeah.” He takes a shaky breath. “Well, it is what it is.”
“I had no idea. Which is crazy because you’re my brother and I thought I knew you pretty well.”
“That’s because I am such a brilliant actor,” he says with a flourish. “But now that I’ve told you my secret, I need you to do me a favor.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
“No, it’s not that, though I would appreciate it. I need you to take this ball and run with it, Bill. This is a real chance. And when you have that chance—at love, at success—you need to take it, sister-mine.”