27. Rae
Rae
Ienter my parent’s house without knocking.
I used to enjoy being home alone, getting lost in my mind to write and practice without worrying what anything sounds like.
I could test sounds, lyrics, anything without being self-conscious when it sounds horrible.
But lately the last thing I want is to be alone.
When I’m alone every noise is amplified; I swear I can feel eyes on me and I just have an overall unease. I won’t admit it to anyone because I’m worried they’ll think I’m losing my mind.
At least I don’t think I am.
Grayson is on his road trip with his team, and Asher said he started some physical therapy. I don’t know if it’s official, or if he’s pushing himself too much too fast, but I don’t think I have much say in the matter with him.
I made up an excuse to my mom, saying I wanted to toy with some songs with her.
She would never question me wanting to come over.
I could use some time with just her and my dad because I doubt my brothers are around.
Steele is so focused on training for the next Olympics, and Nash is…
well he’s Nash, I don’t know what he does most of the time.
He’s a professional baseball player, but is off until Spring training.
He finds ways to fill his time during the off season, and I don’t need to know how or with who.
Unless it’s serious, he doesn’t bring any guys around us.
If he brings anyone around, they’ll be subjected to the same treatment as any boyfriend or girlfriend of ours.
Which includes intense grilling questions, and invasion of privacy.
Maybe a background check, but that one is usually denied. Though, I don’t know how else Evie’s dad’s found out about a ticket one of her college boyfriends had. We never saw him again after she brought him home once.
Luckily for me, my family already knows Grayson…and Asher…kind of. Though, I have no idea how they’ll react if they find out we’re all…seeing each other? Is that what we’re doing? Or are we just messing around?
I don’t even know; when I think about it too much my head hurts. Which is why I’m here for a distraction.
“Mom?” I call out to the large house, but then I hear the piano in the distance and follow the melody.
It’s hauntingly beautiful, slower and something I haven’t heard before.
She’s not singing like she sometimes does.
Just playing, the notes ringing out, and I feel them in my chest and start to hum along as it settles in my bones.
She punches the keys harder during what I think would be the bridge.
I feel it, the emotion in the music. Even without any lyrics it still feels so powerful and I open my note app on my phone pulling up some lyrics I wrote down one night when I was in bed.
Sometimes things hit me and I try to write them down. Even if they don’t make sense in the moment, even if they never make sense. I feel the need to get them out anyway. The words I settle on would match the haunting melody, and as she lingers on the last chord, I approach the bench.
“Do you have lyrics with that yet?” I ask, sitting next to her.
She smiles at me, her red hair so similar to mine, her eyes are more green where mine are blue, but I see why people say we look alike.
I’m a little taller than her, but I definitely look more like her than my dad.
Except the dimples in her cheeks, I didn’t get those, but my oldest brother Steele did.
“Not yet, I just threw this together. Do you?”
I nod. “They’re pretty rough.”
“That’s okay,” she encourages like she always does as her fingers start the song once again.
I feel the music again, waiting for the perfect time that my scribbled down lyrics could fit. When she hits a lower chord I feel it in my chest, and I sing the first line while she plays.
Love is a tragedy.
She continues, and so do I, continuing to get a feel for the song. Humming at parts I’m not sure of yet.
Young turns to old.
Color fades to gray.
Joy turns to sadness.
And in the end someone ends up alone.
Everyone says love is beautiful.
Love is a fairytale.
Love is magic.
But they lie.
True love is a tragedy.
The song continues, and I tinker with the lyrics some more. And at the end my mom turns to me.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, why?”
“That’s a little dark for you is all.”
“So was the melody.” I give her a pointed look.
“Touché.” She chuckles. “I always hoped the only experience you’d have with sad songs would be the ones you listened to. I didn’t want you to live through something sad enough to write about.”
I smile, knowing she’s always wanted the best for me. “I know, but unfortunately I don’t think you can stop that, I don’t think anyone can.”
“I know, but as your mother, I never want any of my kids upset. I would keep you all in protective bubbles if I could.” She pulls me in for a tight hug that has me giggling.
“Especially Steele,” I joke.
She tenses, shaking her head. “Seriously, why did he pick something so dangerous to fall in love with?”
At some point Steele decided speeding down massive mountains wasn’t enough for him. He wanted jumps, rails, flips, all the stuff that could seriously hurt him.
“Yeah, like hockey.” My dad joins us with a couple waters because he knows we end up needing them.
My mom gives him a soft smile, and he leans down to press a chaste kiss to her lips as I drink my water, looking away from them. It’s cute, but also a little gross.
“You were a goalie. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap too,” my mom retorts.
“All the padding and shit I had to wear, I basically was,” my dad jokes.
“Not enough,” my mom grumbles, but Dad just kisses her again, this time a little harder and I grimace.
“Okay, enough, I don’t need nightmares,” I complain.
“Oh please,” Mom scoffs. “You’ve kissed boys before.”
“Ah la la.” My dad puts his hands over his ears quickly. “I don’t want to know about this.
“Dad, I’m twenty-one, you know I’ve—“
“No, no you have not anything. You’ve never even looked at a boy before.” He shakes his head adamantly.
“Is this because I’m a girl? That’s not fair, you know. I bet you’re not like this with Steele and Nash.”
His face scrunches. “I don’t really want to know about anything they do either.”
I roll my eyes; that may be true, but I’m sure he doesn’t react like that with them.
Which is fine. They don’t need to know everything I’ve done. Or am currently doing. Or with who.
“I don’t either,” Mom interjects and I shake my head. I told her when I had my first kiss, but I didn’t tell her about any other firsts, though I’m sure she’s assumed.
“You both sound amazing,” Dad comments, changing the subject, which I’m grateful for. “As always.”
“You have to say that,” I tease.
“No I don’t, I would tell you if something sucked.”
My mom pushes him lightly as he laughs, backing away. “I’ll leave you two to work your magic.”
My parents were friends for a long time; they grew up next door to each other, but didn’t get together until they were adults.
A lot like Grayson and me, which is why I know I could talk to my mom about him and how things have started shifting.
But that doesn’t feel right to leave Asher out of the conversation because he’s just as much in…
whatever this is as Grayson and I are. And I don’t know how she would react to that.
Obviously everyone is accepting of Chandler’s poly relationship, and my family is extremely accepting of everyone. When Nash came out as gay, no one even really reacted. It didn’t change anything, it never could. We all love each other unconditionally.
But I don’t know how she would react knowing it was Asher, or how she would feel about me being in a poly relationship.
I stay quiet because this isn’t even a relationship at this point anyway.
They know I like them both. We’re having fun, but that’s all we’ve established, and I’m not going to bring it up to my mom when I don’t even know what I’m doing.
“What else have you been working on?” my mom asks, pulling me from my thoughts easily.
I smile. “A couple things. It’s a little different than my usual.”
“Good, I want to hear it. I love changing it up.”
I know she does. She’s dabbled in different genres herself.
I wouldn’t say this is a different genre per say; I’m pop where my mom was always more rock sounding.
I like the edge she has, but never thought I could do the same.
Until now. I needed a reason to, some motivation and inspiration and I think I’ve found it.
We get lost in the music I play for her; she helps adjust things I’m unsure about but never oversteps and it’s one of my favorite things about writing with my mom.
She knows what she’s doing, but she trusts me as well.
She would never suggest something that would completely change my vision.
She would never take over a song herself, she offers assistance as needed, and usually only when I ask.
At one point in our afternoon together I almost ask if she’s had a stalker before.
She’s never mentioned it. She’s warned me about the dark sides to the industry, and protected me from everything she could.
Predatory management and labels. Contracts that could end my career before it even started.
She’s always looked out for me, and I’ve known that everything in the spotlight isn’t all glitz and glamor like Hollywood wants you to think.
But she’s never mentioned having a stalker or anything like that.
If that’s even what’s happening to me because nothing has happened since the box, and I’m probably just overreacting. I’m sure I am. My mind is just on overdrive as it usually is and I’m blowing up nothing into something for no reason.
“I think you have the start of a great new album, Rae,” my mom praises and I beam at her. She wouldn’t just say that. If she says it, she really means it. “You staying for dinner?”
Right on cue my stomach growls, and she hears it.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She gets up from the piano bench and I start to follow her, but hang back to glance at my phone to see Asher texted me.
I bite back a smile, not wanting her to see my reaction and question me.
Asher
Had to go through PT thinking of how fucking good you looked riding Grayson’s cock. Need to have you on mine. Soon.
I smirk. Grayson is gone for another two days and as tempting as it is to see Asher, the next time I see him I want it to be the three of us again. I want more of what happened in the studio.
But that’s the thing, I want more.
I want them both to touch me at the same time. I want to push all my limits. Because I think that’s who I am. I’m a risk taker. And I like being pushed to the edge, jumping off with both feet and trusting that I won’t drown.
Rae
You will. Two days when Gray is back. I want you both.
I lock my phone, following my mom to the kitchen, hoping the blush in my cheeks fades when I think about what’s to come.
This may be crazy, but it’s fun. Probably more than I’ve ever had, and I’ve never felt more alive. I like this. I want more of this. I don’t want the world to see me just as some good girl.
And they won’t.
Not anymore.