Epilogue
ANDI - EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER
After growing up on my mom’s reality TV show, I have plenty of practice avoiding eye contact with cameras around me, but I’m still getting used to having a live audience. Turns out, when you put out a docuseries that’s a strong contender for an Emmy, people want you to talk about yourself.
“We’ve loved our time with you, Andi!” Adam Crossgrave, the alpha host of one of the biggest talk shows around, booms, his voice projecting far more than necessary, considering the microphones we’re both wearing. “We know you’re a busy woman, but we have a few more questions for you.”
“It’s been a real privilege speaking with you today,” I say, my smile natural and easy. “Ask away!”
“Tonight is the last stop of your bondmate, Beckham Knight’s record-shattering tour. We know you’ve been working on a project showcasing his journey; how does it feel to move on to a more lighthearted project?”
“That’s an excellent question,” I nod. “While it’s certainly been a wonderful time getting to travel with Beck and witness him sharing his gift with the world, I wouldn’t say the docuseries intends to be entirely lighthearted.
Beck is one of the first few male omegas in the industry, and that comes with its own set of challenges.
My goal with my projects has always been to pull back the curtain and showcase reality, no matter how gritty or unpolished it may be.
Things won’t change overnight, but I personally think the first step to change is awareness. ”
The words leave my mouth easily. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that Leo’s a kick-ass publicist that always makes sure I’m prepared for my interviews and the questions they’ll ask, but because I believe every word I’m saying.
It’s not like those confessionals I grew up with, where every statement was carefully curated to push forward an agenda that didn’t belong to me. My words, my actions, and my purpose are all my own.
“That said,” I say, my smile growing with Beck being the topic of conversation. “Even though I wouldn’t call it lighthearted, I’ve certainly had a beautiful time working on it, and I can’t wait for everyone to get to know Beck and what he stands for.”
“How has your experience with Beckham’s docuseries differed from your first?”
“Well, I’ve certainly had a preference for this project with Beck.
I’m sure everyone can agree that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes.
But I think I’ve learned that while I needed to tell my own story, given everything that’s happened over the last couple of years, I far prefer being on the other end of the camera. ”
“You certainly have a gift! I’m sure your father must be incredibly proud. It looks like our time together is coming to a close. Do you have any last comments for us, Andi?”
“I hope my projects resonate with people. In a way, I think they’re almost like love letters to the person they’re about.
I think I’ve learned that love is being truly seen and seeing someone in turn.
But my projects aren’t just for the person they’re about.
They’re for the world. They’re for everyone who has grown up in systems that don’t serve them.
I’m endlessly lucky to have the opportunities I have now, but I never thought I’d be here.
So I hope... I hope my projects inspire people to aim for the stars. ”
The live audience applauds, and the cameras are eventually cut.
The adrenaline as I meet Leo and Cameron off stage makes me feel like I’m floating.
“Did I do a good job?” I ask, grinning sheepishly up at them.
“You know you did a good job, Sweet Tea,” Cameron chuckles. “You’re just fishing for compliments.”
“So?” I huff playfully as we make our way through the back hallways of the venue.
“We’ll give them to you,” Leo murmurs before leaning down and pressing a kiss to my cheek.
One significant aspect of the docuseries I released about myself was about my relationship with my pack. While there was some backlash, things seem to have settled. Even if there had been more backlash, I would’ve never let it get in the way of being with my guys.
I’ve spent enough of my life living for someone else. Why would I spend any more time doing so?
The three of us hop into the back of a black SUV with tinted windows. The driver immediately starts booking it towards Madison Square Garden, successfully squeezing through spaces between illegally parked cars that I personally wouldn’t even try to attempt.
It’s not the biggest venue Beck has played at, but there’s something poetic about ending the tour at a stop I know Beck had pinned to his vision boards as a teenager.
“Beck’s only starting his sound check, so we’ll still make it before he’s done,” Leo says, glancing up from his phone.
“Did Eli say that?” I ask, peering over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Leo nods.
“You’d think, considering this is the last stop of the tour, Beck would be a little less insistent about me being there for his sound check, every time.” Despite my words, I can’t help the fond smile tugging at my lips.
“Can you blame him? You are our Lucky Duck, after all,” Leo says.
It takes us a lot longer than the GPS said it would to make it back to the venue, but when we finally do, I can hear Beck’s voice over the speakers.
It washes over me like a soothing balm. I know the set list like the back of my hand at this point.
I’m pretty sure I could do the show if push came to shove.
I’d be booed off the stage before I even finished the first song, considering my talents remain firmly in film-related things and not singing, but still.
Instead of bringing me to our usual spot in the wings where we wait during sound checks, Leo and Cameron bring me to the front row of the VIP section. We’re not the only ones there.
“Ever!” I call out, my kitten heels clicking against the floor as I run to him, throwing my arms around his shoulders.
He wraps his arms around me, burying his face into my neck.
“Andi,” he breathes out, pressing a kiss against the bond mark he left on me.
“I thought you had some business to attend to in LA!” I say as I pull back from the embrace so I can see his face.
“Yes, well, I couldn’t miss such an important occasion, now could I?” Everett says, his eyes twinkling.
I peer past his shoulder to Beck, who’s on the stage, watching us with an unreadable expression.
“Do you think Beck’s mad ‘cause we’re late?” I whisper. “He’s on his last song.”
“He’ll probably milk this so he can sleep next to you tonight,” Eli says, his voice low. “But I don’t think he’s upset.”
I jump slightly because he sort of just spawns in behind me. It’s a wonder that a man that large can move as silently as he does.
“Eli!” I say, grinning up at him.
“Princess,” he says, dipping his head down and capturing my lips with his, uncaring of the fact that Everett still has his arms wrapped around me.
As the music for Beck’s last song fades he makes his way to the edge of the stage.
The screens behind him flicker away from the visuals for the concert and my brows draw down in confusion.
“That doesn’t seem right,” I say, tilting my head. “Should we fix that?”
“I don’t think it needs to be fixed,” Beck says. He’s close enough that I can hear him, but he’s still choosing to speak into the microphone.
I realize in that moment that the unreadable expression I saw on him earlier is mischief.
“Andi,” he says, his voice carrying on the speakers of the venue. “Do you recognize this?”
A video plays on the massive screens behind him. A video of the drive up to my dad’s house.
“Yeah, it’s my Dad’s neighborhood,” I say, glancing from him to Everett and Eli who remain by my side.
“Errrr, wrong.” Beck’s dramatics never seem to cease.
The video must have been taken from the dashcam of Everett’s sports car, considering the familiar hood. But it doesn’t drive into the driveway of my dad’s house. It drives next door.
“What’s going on guys?” I ask.
And then I see it.
A sold sign.
My eyes fly up towards Everett.
“Was—was this why you were gone?” I gasp.
“Yes, Honey. I was closing on the house. I wanted to make sure there was no chance of anyone else stealing this opportunity from us.”
“You’re taking all my mojo,” Beck whines into the mic. “I’m supposed to be the one who gets to tell her.”
“Then stop with the drama queen act and tell her,” Eli snorts, his dark eyes soft as he stares up at Beck.
“Okay, okay,” Beck says with a wave, hopping down from the stage.
He doesn’t fully drop the theatrics, considering he’s still carrying the live mic.
“Andi, after countless nights spent in hotel rooms where we fight to see who gets to sleep next to you, I think we’re all ready for a break.
And what better place to take a break than in our own home? ”
I feel the burn of tears behind my eyes and my lower lip wobbles. It’s the kind of reaction that I would’ve felt was pathetic and juvenile, before I met all of them, but I’ve learned there’s a time and place to cry like this.
And I think now is a perfectly fine time and place.
“So—so you bought the house next door to my dad?” I say, my voice a little shaky.
“We did,” Cameron says, appearing by my side.
“Everyone chipped in for it,” Leo says, reaching out and offering my shoulder a squeeze like he feels compelled to touch me.
All of them seem compelled to do so, when I’m emotional. Maybe it’s a remnant of when they all cared for me when I had a severe case of Omega Stress Syndrome. Maybe they just want to touch me. Who am I to complain?
“Though I would like it noted that I helped a lot, thanks to the tour,” Beck says with a cheeky grin.
“Yeah, and guess who helps with your tour?” Eli huffs, pulling Beck into his chest with an eye roll.
“I should’ve—should’ve chipped in too,” I sniffle, trying to dab delicately under my eyes because I’m still wearing the makeup I had on for the talk show. “I have money now, too!”
“Yeah, not happening,” Everett says with a small shrug.
“Does Dad know about this?” I’m fighting the urge to pull my phone out and call him right away, just to scream from excitement into the phone.
During the short breaks between Beck’s tour when we have the time to make it back to LA, we stay with him, but I know we’ve all been talking about needing more space. Especially if we ever decide to add more members to our little family.
“He was the first one to tell us about the house coming onto the market,” Everett says. “He already has a contractor ready to pull down the fences between the houses and landscapers to build a path.”
The question what did I do to deserve this is right on the tip of my tongue.
But I don’t give it voice.
I’ve been to enough sessions with Nancy and spent enough time being loved by my pack and my father and the people who love and appreciate my work to know that I am deserving of good things. I am deserving of love and care and affection.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling up at all of them.
THE END