8. Beck
Beck
I’m glad we’re doing this shit outside. My perfume is so ridiculously intense, even with the de-scenters I put on multiple times a day, that I know the others will be stifling coughs.
Everyone has been good sports about it and no one’s mentioned it to my face, but I know that my daily freakouts have been a lot to deal with.
“Hey,” Eli murmurs.
“Don’t, hey, me,” I snap, my voice a rasp past the tight knot in my throat.
“You don’t have to do this,” Eli murmurs, stepping in front of me and resting his large hands on my shoulders.
A breeze blows up the hill in Edison’s backyard where we’re trying to record the music video for my new single. It’s a stunning view. You can see what feels like all of LA, including the skyline of downtown.
“But I do.” My voice comes out thin and scratchy. “I always play live for my music videos.”
“Maybe you don’t have to for this one; we could figure something out.”
“No,” I say vehemently. “The higher production music video is Andi’s to direct. She’s the only one I want working on something like that. I—I feel like I’d be betraying her if I didn’t make sure the first music video I did in a different style wasn’t hers.”
“You wouldn’t be betraying her,” Eli murmurs, his hands shifting to cup the back of my neck. “She’d understand.”
“No.” I shake my head and clear my throat. “I just—I just need some water before I sing. I have to do this, Eli.”
“Okay,” Eli murmurs, thumbs swiping along the screen of his phone, probably texting the group chat to have someone grab me a bottle.
“I’m such a baby,” I mumble. “Can’t even get myself my own water.”
“Hey, you’re not a baby. You’ve just got people in your corner to help. None of us can do what you can do, so let us worry about the rest, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, struggling to even out my breathing.
“Talk to me. What’s freakin’ you out so bad?” His thick brows are drawn down in genuine concern.
The beard he normally keeps clean has grown out in the past few weeks. It’s rougher, more scraggly. If I weren’t an emotional wreck, I’d think it’s hot, in a rugged, lumberjack kind of way.
“I’m just—this is what we’re hoping she sees, right?
I just—God, Eli—I just miss her so much and the only way I’m not freaking out all the time is if I try not to think about her, but there’s no way to not think about her, about the kind of shit that might be happening to her if I’ve gotta sing the song I wrote for her, in her childhood backyard, with the intention of sending a message to her that we’re all still thinking about her! ”
My chest heaves from the long stream of jumbled words.
“Take a breath for me,” Eli murmurs, gripping my wrists and pressing them against his chest. “Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Good job, good boy.”
I let Eli’s instructions and gruff voice wash over me.
“Shut up,” I mumble, pressing my forehead against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under the palm of my hand. “Don’t act all hot when I’m freaking out.”
“Why?” Eli asks, his lips quirking up at the corners in a small smirk. “Is it working?”
“You’re doing what I did for you, back at that stupid jeans ad shoot.”
“And it worked wonders on me. Feel better?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
I expect Leo or Everett to show up with a water bottle for me. Maybe even Cameron.
What I don’t expect is for Edison Wade to appear with a water bottle in hand. I guess Eli texted the big group chat that included him.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Edison says, holding the water bottle out to me.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head, stepping out from Eli’s warm embrace, even though that’s the last thing I want to do right now. “Thank you. You didn’t have to grab this for me.”
“I wanted to be helpful,” he says, offering me a warm smile—it reminds me so much of Andi that I have to look away.
“I’m sorry I’m holding everybody up. I just—I just need a minute or two more and I can try again.”
“Take your time.” Edison steps up beside us, staring out at the view with his hands tucked into his pockets. “I think it’s admirable how much you care for Andi. Caring for someone to the point of invention, to the point of creation, it’s a magical thing.”
“Someone told you the song’s about her then, huh?” I say, the plastic of the water bottle crinkling under my hand as I twist it open and take a tentative sip. It helps soothe the lump in my throat.
“Yes, Everett mentioned it earlier. It’s a beautiful song.”
“You’ve only heard the first verse before I choked up,” I huff.
“I’ve listened to the demo when I was working with Cameron to help plan the shots for the music video,” he says, that fond smile still on his lips. It’s less distracting, with him aiming it towards the view instead of at me. “I think that’s enough for me to form an opinion.”
It’s a bizarre experience, knowing I’m working with someone as talented as Edison Wade. I’m not nearly as star-struck as Cameron has been, but it’s definitely something I’ve had to wrap my head around.
“I won’t pretend to understand your medium, but as someone who understands being a creative, I know quite intimately how difficult it is to produce when your heart’s not in it.
I didn’t touch any projects that weren’t absolutely necessary for nearly a decade, in the thick of all the legal proceedings.
I didn’t have it in me. Give yourself some grace. ”
I blink at him, letting his words wash over me.
“How did—how did you manage to get back into it?”
He pauses before he answers, as if he’s giving my question thought. As if my question is that important.
“I’m unsure if my answer will be as relevant to your situation, but I had to relearn why I fell in love with it in the first place. I had to reconnect with my ‘why’ and convince myself it was a good enough reason.”
I ponder his answer. What is my why? I need to record this music video because our plan hinges on this and because the world can’t stop.
I have responsibilities and commitments, and even though Everett would understand if I buried my head in the sand and refused to do any work until this situation with Andi is resolved, there’s no guarantee it’s going to get resolved anytime soon.
There are other people at the record label relying on me to maintain the schedule I set out. Plus, Eli and Leo are both relying on me too.
On top of that, this is for Andi, and I wouldn’t put it past Gina to try brainwashing her to think that none of us gave a shit about her. That we’ve forgotten and abandoned her. That she’ll be forever alone.
Because that’s what she thought when we first met. That’s the lens she viewed the world through because Gina spent the decades Andi spent under her roof poisoning her own daughter’s mind.
Each and every one of us brings a little piece to the puzzle. Something only one of us can do, whether that’s perspective, skillset, or availability.
I’m the only one whose song and art can possibly reach her.
Eli’s the only one who can keep me relatively sane.
Leo’s the only one with that unique perspective of his, taking into consideration things none of us would even think of.
Everett’s the one with the legal connections and the ability to keep the ship from sinking while the rest of us freak the hell out.
Cameron’s the only one with press experience of cases that deal with injustice, and Andi’s situation is chock-full of it.
Even Edison has his role in this. He’s the only one the courts would be willing to transfer the conservatorship to at this stage of the case.
Maybe that’s why I feel so helpless. Because I feel like my part is so tiny and pathetic that it doesn’t even matter.
“Your point about caring to the point of creation... That’s pretty profound,” I say softly, staring out at the view of LA and letting the soft warmth of the setting sun soak into my bones. “I should write that down somewhere.”
“Feel free,” Edison says.
“Do you think... what I’m doing is enough? I can’t help but feel like I should be doing more. Not that—not that I’m even doing what I’m supposed to be doing,” I let out an exhausted huff as I wipe my clammy hands on the front of my dark-wash jeans. “All I’ve done is fall apart.”
I think Edison seems to be able to tell what I’m looking to hear, because his expression softens.
“It’s enough, son. More than enough.” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. There’s a hint of a tremble in his touch, but I’m too emotional and overwhelmed by him saying exactly what I need to hear to focus on it. “Sometimes art is a more powerful form of communication than anything else.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Thank you.”
As Edison leaves Eli and me alone again, I notice that Eli has gone silent, the line in his broad shoulders, stiff and rigid.
“Hey, are you alright?”
“I should be askin’ you that,” Eli grunts. “But yeah, I’m fine.”
“Hmmm, okay.” I narrow my eyes on him, the doubt obvious in my tone.
“Don’t okay me,” Eli huffs. “I’m just thinking about Andi’s dad. The guy seems to just... say all the right things. And he cares. It’s... weird.”
“Weird how?” I step up beside Eli, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.
I know Eli was just comforting me, but I honestly feel better after the chat with Edison.
Which means I should be a good omega, the same way he’s been a fantastic alpha for me the past few weeks by holding down the fort and keeping me from going insane.
“I mean, Andi grew up thinking the guy was an abusive asshole, so there’s a part of me waiting to see if that shit’ll slip out. But we’ve been around him long enough and... I don’t think he’s got a macho, abusive, dominant alpha bone in his body, even though he’s an alpha.”
His description makes me nod. That description reminds me an awful lot of Eli’s dad. Because of all the chaos with Andi, the two of us never really got to talk about how he’s been doing, rejecting his dad’s request to see if he was a match for a liver transplant.
“I mean, I kind of thought the same at first, but... He’s different, I think,” I murmur.
“Yeah,” Eli shrugs, his eyes drifting back towards the sliding glass doors, back into the house where Edison disappeared. “Still trying to figure out what the hell his endgame is, being so nice to the lot of us.”
“Maybe... maybe he just wants to be a dad,” I say, remembering the way he held my shoulder and called me son.
“It would make sense, considering his only daughter was taken away. He spent years trying to get her back. And if he wants to act fatherly to all of us instead of just to Andi, is that really such a bad thing?”
“Nah,” Eli says with a shake of his head. “Honestly, I could use one. Maybe one day I’ll get used to a guy like Edison saying the perfect shit all the time.”
“He kinda does say perfect shit, huh?” I say, letting out a huff of laughter. “It... kind of makes me sad. Maybe we would’ve never met Andi, but if she’d grown up with her dad instead of her mom, she probably would’ve had a better childhood, right?”
“Probably. Anything other than the shit hand she was dealt would have been better. But... no point dwelling on that kinda stuff. We can’t change it, you know?”
“Yeah,” I let out a deep breath. “This is where you tell me to focus on the stuff we can change, right?”
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Eli reaches out and massages the back of my neck, his thumbs digging gently into my pulse point. I melt into his touch like butter on a hot summer’s day. “You feel better?”
“Yeah,” I nod, taking another sip of my water.
The lump in my throat that’s been a constant companion at merely the thought of performing seems to have settled.
“You know, if things get serious with Andi—though I’m honestly not sure how much more serious bonding would be compared to coming up with a whole legal plan to save her—Edison would be our father-in-law. ”
“Maybe having him as a father-in-law will make up for the mother-in-law from the fuckin’ seventh circle of hell.”
“He’s pretty dope, but I’m not sure anything will make up for that.” I crack my knuckles and shake my hands out. “Okay, I think I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
I make it back to the makeshift stage, handing my water bottle to Eli, who waits on the sidelines.
“You feeling better?” Cameron asks, lifting up his sunglasses to meet my gaze head on.
“Yeah,” I nod, reaching up to massage the back of my neck. It’s a poor imitation of Eli’s soothing touch, but it grounds me enough to swallow down my embarrassment. “I’ve got my shit together a bit more.”
“No need to talk about yourself like that,” Cameron says, leaning down to adjust some of the settings on one of the three cameras we have set up. Apparently, Edison’s big on having multiple angles.
It makes me wonder what Andi would look like working with Cameron and Edison. The three of them all know their stuff, but approach things from such different perspectives.
“Hey,” Cameron says, his brows drawing down.
His gaze roams across my face, taking in the subtle changes in my expression.
“We’re gonna get her back, okay? Promise.
The universe... It’s not cruel enough to leave Andi in a situation like that.
” His jaw works and he averts his gaze, staring out at the view without actually taking it in. “We won’t let it. I won’t let it.”
“Yeah,” I nod, taking a deep, steadying breath.
I step up onto the makeshift stage, picking up my electric guitar and slinging the strap over my shoulder before sliding it so it’s upside down on my back. I need my hands free because Everett and I set up a whole bunch of loops on the BeatPad for the synths.
I always do live music videos for my lead singles. They were easier to film in my bedroom growing up with Leo or Eli’s help because it was just me and my guitar. But this song is different.
But I can do this. I’ve practiced. I know exactly what I’ve got to do and when I’ve got to do it.
I meet everyone’s gazes, and they all give me supportive nods.
“Action!” Edison calls out.
I can do this.