Chapter 4
Chapter Four
LIVIANNA/LILY
Then
Between The Cuts & Him
The betrayal makes headlines, but the stillness after the song makes my scars.
“No, thanks.” I show the lead designer, who’s teaching this class, a grateful smile. Then, I click out of my computer program and stare at a penciled sketch of a man’s leather jacket with some lyrics stitched into the lining for inspiration. “I understand and don’t need to go over it again.”
My design is like a tattoo for clothes a rockstar would wear. It’s a creative signature, even if my teacher doesn’t like it.
I’m starting to think the classes I signed up for aren’t a good fit. I want to break out and express something no one else has done before, but they want us to stay locked into traditional lines and styles.
The only good thing to come from my class is that I have a new friend. His name is Trent Diamandis, and he’s from New York.
Go figure. I move to Paris to get exposure to the foreign design market, and what I find is a friend who lives in the States and is only here visiting, just like me.
He taps my leg under the table and mouths, “It’s fabulous, Livianna. Run with it!”
I suppress a laugh and nod. Class continues, but I get distracted by internet alerts that let me know when the press is reporting on Livianna Grace Designs.
My system pings anytime Livianna Hemings or Livianna Grace Designs is mentioned, and a slew of notifications have just hit my inbox.
A thrill runs through my blood and makes my heart beat faster. What is the media talking about today? I sent a couple of new designs to a few influencers, and I hope these are related.
I click the first notification. An article pops up, and I’m not sure what it means.
The headline reads:
Mayhem ensues when Livianna Hemings is STRIPPED and left outside a PACKED TRAIN.
I crinkle my nose as my brows draw together. What the…? I continue reading, not understanding any of the context.
In a cruel twist of fate, Livianna Hemings’s brother comes to Mayhem’s defense.
It was revealed unexpectedly on a podcast, through a line of unapproved questions the host posed for the band that one of Livianna’s supposed favorite songs, “Packed Train,” performed by Chrome Honey, was actually written by none other than her past love, Cash Mayze.
The lyrics of “Packed Train” often get overlooked by the exciting, heart-pumping beat, but if you listen to the words, you’ll hear the hate and revenge that can’t be denied. The song is anything but joyful when looked at that way.
When the host asked Guns how he felt about Cash writing the song, Brendan “Guns” Hemings insisted the band knew nothing of it. He added that if Cash had written it, he’d done it without their knowledge.
Cash admitted he wrote and sold the rights to his words.
Was he intending for Livianna Hemings, Cash’s ex and Guns’s sister, to hear them?
She’s been seen on video dancing her heart out to the song, so we know she’s heard it.
Now the question is, does she know the lyrics, or does she just love the beat?
It’s been long speculated that the hit single “Stripped,” which earned Mayhem multiple awards, was also written about her. Many fans believe that most of his songs point to his turbulent relationship with her.
When the host pressed on with this information, Cash threatened to end the interview, and the truth spilled from his lips.
Speaking through gritted teeth, he said, “Artists are known for writing about the way they feel.”
To which the host responded, “So it is about her.”
Cash backtracked and said, “Any songs I write about Livianna are for me to know, not the public.”
The host followed up with a statement about how his feelings have drastically changed, citing the success of “Packed Train,” the revenge song Cash wrote and sold the rights to, which was more recently written and produced than “Stripped.”
Cash then stormed off the set, leaving Livianna’s brother to defend the band. Similar to the lyrics from “Packed Train,” we don’t think Cash will be making any more stops. Not for that host’s show, anyway. As for Livianna, only time will tell if Cash is truly done with his ex.
The words blur as I finish reading the article and my chest caves in. How did I miss the fact that “Packed Train” was written by Callum?
The song plays in my mind. I lower my head and suck in a tortured breath as the lyrics slice me into pieces. At least Bren had my back, and the public will see that.
Callum’s never-ending cruelty toward me is getting old. What did I do to him that makes him come at me so relentlessly? Maybe it’s because I lost our… I’m so done with him hurting me.
My skin itches like a million tiny bugs are crawling up my arms. Thankfully, I just got a manicure and asked for pointy tips.
I haven’t done that since I moved here. I guess my intuitive side knew what was coming and that I would need the release.
Why does the media hate me? I dig my nails into my wrists, and I stare out the window of our classroom.
I’m not even in the States, and they still come for me. The gut punch is expected when news about Callum hits, but this time, it’s just another reminder that I need to forget him once and for all.
Our teacher dismisses us, and the seven English-speaking students gather their things to leave. It’s a small class because it’s only for people who don’t know French, which I think rubs the lead designer the wrong way.
Oh well. He still gets paid, so I’m fine with it.
Trent places his firm hand on my shoulder. “What’s got you out in space, my special little boo?”
I smile at his nickname for me. “A media release.”
“Come. Tell me about it over a drink.” He closes my computer and nudges me to stand.
Our class meets in a small converted commercial office building. I thought it would be like a clothing warehouse or a design studio, but it’s more like a conference room.
And it happens to be in the same building as Crowne Ventures International’s Paris office.
Okay, I may have had an ulterior motive when I signed up for these classes, but that hit a wall the second Jaxon went back to the States.
Trent and I gather our stuff and meander down the hallway to the elevators. He lets me have a moment of silence since other people are around.
Once we’re in the elevator and tucked in the back, he raises his brows. “What did they say this time?”
“Have you ever heard the song ‘Packed Train’?”
“Um, yeah.” He deadpans. “It’s only the best dance song of this decade. Why?”
“I just found out my ex wrote it.”
Trent slaps his palm to his heart. “Impressive. I thought he only did rock. Then again, he started out in a boy band, so there’s that.”
“Yeah.” I adjust my bag so it stops biting into my shoulder. “It’s one of my favorite songs, but now…it’s ruined along with everything else tied to him.”
“If you love the song, why is it ruined?”
“Think about the words, Trent. Consider the cruelty of the lyrics.”
He hums the tune and sings a few verses.
“You’re a rerun, babe. Now I’m the star. Too loud to miss, I raise the bar.” His voice fades. “Oh, Livianna…ignore that. The song probably isn’t about you.”
“Right.” I release a resigned sigh. “He’s got a point. I am a rerun.”
“You’ll never be that to me. He’s an asshole.” Trent takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’d say let’s go dance tonight to burn off the pissy attitude I’m in now, but that doesn’t seem like the right move.”
The doors open on the bottom floor, and we shuffle out. A small group of people waits to file in.
I glance up at Trent as we stroll out of the way. “Dancing sounds good.”
“Really?” His honey-brown eyes shine down on me. “You think?”
“Yeah.” I nod once in defiance. “And if they play ‘Packed Train,’ I say we scream our lungs out with the words as we dance our asses off.”
“That’s the spirit, my special little boo.” He throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a side hug.
I squeeze him just as my gaze meets the man who always unexpectedly brings me to my knees. He’s absolutely stunning.
He’s back. My pulse kicks up a notch.
Jaxon steps back and stops right before us. “Livianna. We seem to keep running into each other.”
“Fate must love me.” I giggle, slipping out of Trent’s arms. “I thought you went back to the States.”
“I did.” Jaxon turns to Trent and holds out his hand. “Jaxon Crowne, and you are…?”
“Oh, wow!” Trent licks his lips and eyes Jax up and down. “I’m Trent Diamandis. Livianna and I are headed to her place for a drink. Would you like to join us?”
A whispered “please” follows as Trent unabashedly bats his eyelashes at Jax. This could be fun to watch.
“Thanks for the offer, Trent.” Jax glances at me. “I’m sure I’d just get in the way.”
“Well, that’s a delicious thought.” Trent faces me. “What’s your input on the situation, Livianna?”
I smirk and shrug a shoulder, assuming Jax will do anything to get out of it. “You’re welcome to join us, Jaxon. We’re dropping off our stuff, having a drink, and going out dancing. You should come with us.”
Jax peeks at his phone, then slides it into his designer pants pocket. “Sure. It’s Friday, and I was only here to grab something from my office. Do you two mind waiting for a minute while I get it?”
My jaw drops and my heart skips a beat. “What? You’re really coming with us?”
“I said yes.” He moves his head to the side with a slight shift. “Unless you’d prefer I didn’t.”
“Livianna and I would love for you to join us. Run and get your things. We’ll be waiting outside because I need a cigarette.” Trent takes my hand and steps away from Jax. “This could be a dream come true.”
I stare at Jax with wide eyes as Trent drags me away. Jax laughs and rushes into the elevator to get whatever he came for. A smile spreads across my face. He never ceases to surprise me when he lets the stiffness drop and lets himself be playful.
“You didn’t tell me you knew Jaxon Crowne.” Trent forces the glass door open and steps outside.
The February chill takes hold.