Finding My Way (21 page)

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Authors: Heidi McLaughlin

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Finding My Way
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Chapter 32

I
rap my knuckles on the dark gray metal door and wait with my grandma by my side. Her hands are fiddling, making me wonder if she’s nervous or maybe reminiscing about an occasion she did this with my grandfather. Each time I think about him, I want to sit her down and delve into her memory bank, but I know it’s painful for her. She’s lost both the love of her life and her daughter and it can’t be healthy to bring up all those memories.

The door opens and I step back. We’re greeted by Burke who nods at us before stepping aside to let us in. My hand guides my grandmother down the dark hallway. She’s tense and probably wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. I don’t know if this is a trick that Trixie likes to do to people or what, but it wouldn’t hurt to put some lights on back here. Then again, if you’re in this part of the club you know where you’re going, or at least you should.

The door to the green room is open and we step in. Harrison is sitting on the couch, spinning some drumsticks around his fingers causing me to stop and stare in amazement at how adept his fingers are at manipulating a simple piece of wood. I’m lucky to be able to play a chord without looking at my finger placement, but here is he as cool as a cucumber, acting as if twirling drumsticks is the easiest thing in the world to do. When Harrison spots me, he stands up and starts laughing.

“Man, what happened to you last night?” I smirk and give a sideways glance. Last night isn’t something I want to talk about with my grandma within earshot.

“It’s okay, Liam. I’ll go and find Trixie.”

My eyes bulge out and my mouth drops open. “W-what?”

Grandma pats my cheek and smiles coyly. “Metro has been around for a long time, Liam. Your grandfather used to play here when it was a jazz bar. Trixie’s grandfather used to own it and he’s passed it down. I know my way around here. I was a groupie once too, you know.”

With that she effectively walks out of the room. I’m going to have to ask her what her nervousness was all about earlier because I’ll be damned if I didn’t think she was scared to be here. There’s so much more to her than meets the eye. I can’t help wondering if she played a part in getting me the call. If she did, I’m not sure how I’ll react. I
need
to do this on my own. If I can’t succeed in life without someone constantly helping me, what good am I?

“So last night?” Harrison asks. His eyebrow is raised and his arms are crossed. I run my hand through my hair, resting it on the back of my neck.

“It was great. I learnt a lot and now I know what I need to do to refine my performance.” That’s as close to the truth as I’m getting.

Harrison laughs. “If that’s what you’re telling yourself.”

I nod, not knowing how to respond.

Harrison sets his hand on my shoulder and pushes me toward the corner of the room, away from Burke and the girls he’s with.

“I wish someone had my back when I was starting out. I jumped into bed with the first girl who threw herself at me and regretted it the next day. I know Layla’s hot, but she’s trouble and you shouldn’t stick your dick in crazy because it comes back to bite you in the ass.”

“She’s crazy?”

Harrison makes the crazy sign with his finger next to ear and I chuckle. “Loco, like off her rocker sometimes. She has a new boyfriend each and every week and the heartache is too much to bear, blah blah blah. We all hear about it until the next guy walks in. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a helluva performer, but love wise, she’s a bit touched in the head.”

I’m trying not to laugh at Harrison, he’s so animated, but I get what he’s saying. Last night with Layla shouldn’t have happened, but it did and it’s my fault. I let my emotions get the best of me when I knew my head wasn’t straight.

“Did you at least wrap your junk?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod, looking away from him. I don’t want to lie to his face, but the truth is, I don’t know if I did. In six weeks she could come knocking and tell me she’s pregnant and there wouldn’t be shit I could do about it, except get a job busing tables. I know I screwed up last night and might end up paying a bigger price in the end. I try not to think about the one time I purposely didn’t use a condom, but I had been with
her
since we were virgins and knew she was clean.

“All right man, I’m giving it to you straight. I get it. With all that free pussy, it’s hard to say no, but you have to sometimes. I like to get to know them a little before I sleep with them, almost like that stupid three-date rule. I’m not a fan of one-night stands either, but I don’t like relationships. I date them for a couple of weeks and move on. Usually it’s mutually agreed upon because they become needy and clingy and I can’t do that. I sleep late, stay up until the sun comes up and work in a bar. I’m not going to go for long walks on the beach or have a candlelit dinner waiting for them. I’m not open about my feelings either. I don’t want to discuss that shit, but I’m at least honest with them. I don’t give them false hope and I always wear a condom. No babies and no diseases.

“The more they see you, the sexier you become. You have to protect you and only you. Trust no one. Everyone here is out for themselves and will stab you in the back while you’re staring at them,” he pauses, allowing me to cut in.

“My gram says the same thing about trust.”

“She’s right, you know. I’ve known her since my mom started working for her casting agent and she’s been real good to me and my sister, but I’ve seen people burn her just because of who she is. You should listen to her.”

I nod and realize I have so much to learn not only about the industry but about people. In Beaumont, you can trust everyone.

“You’re on in five, better get tuned up. It will just be me on stage so tell me what you’re playing and I’ll have your back.” Harrison walks out of the room leaving me to contemplate everything he just said. I don’t know if I should talk to Layla or leave it be. Either way, nothing can happen with her again.

T
rixie goes over the rules before slapping me on the ass and yelling “good luck” as she walks away from me. I’m not sure how to take her. She’s so different from everyone else I know yet, I find myself drawn to her. I don’t know if it’s because she holds my future in her hands or if it’s because she knows what the hell she’s doing. She can make or break me with the flick of her wrist if I’m not careful.

I step onto the stage and nod at Harrison. I hand him my two-song set list. That’s all I get to make an impression, two songs. It’s not much, but as I understand it, the time slots dictate how many songs I’ll get. As with any artist the late slot is what we all want. I’m going to earn that spot sooner rather than later and if it means I have to sit on the street corner and play to get an audience, so be it. Either way, it will be mine.

I thought about playing the song I wrote for my girl, but I’m not ready for the questions that will come as a result. My grandma is in the crowd and while she knows, pouring my heart out to everyone else isn’t something I’m comfortable with right now. Maybe next time I will be.

The wooden stool is hard, but familiar. The stiffness is a welcome feeling as I remember the many nights at the University that I sat and played. I rest my leg on the bottom peg and look out at the audience. I try not to let the size of the crowd deter me, but it does a little. There are maybe seven people out there and that’s counting Trixie, my grandma and the bartender. Four people are here to listen to me sing.

“I can do this,” I say as I strum the strings on my guitar. Harrison starts the beat for
Never Say Goodbye
by Bon Jovi. The lyrics come easy to me as I belt them out. My eyes close as the music takes over my body and my soul. I can see
her
standing on the dance floor waiting for me. She wants to dance, but Mason and Jerad are talking to me. I’m watching her sway her hips back and forth. Her finger beckons me and at this point who am I to deny her? I can’t that’s the problem. She couldn’t accept this part of me so I had to leave her because had I stayed, I would’ve done anything she asked me to do and that would’ve destroyed us in the end. I put a stop to the dream so we can have a chance at a future… someday.

I open my eyes as I hit the last note. The audience has doubled and they’re all clapping. I spot my grandma in the center. Her hands and covering her mouth, but I can see by her expression that she’s happy for me. I reach down and pick up the bottle of water that is sitting on the floor and take a quick drink before setting it back on the ground.

“Thank you,” I say as I adjust on the stool. “This is my first night at
Metro
and I’m very happy to be here. My name’s Liam Page and this next song, everyone knows so please feel free to sing along. You’ll make me sound better, I promise.”

I can’t contain the grin that spreads across my face. This has gone better than I thought. So what if I started with four people, they all clapped for me. I place my fingers on the proper strings and start the melody to
Don’t Stop Believin’
and the few that are out there cheer loudly. Everyone can relate to this song and it’s going to be my motto from here on out. If I believe that this can happen, it will. I just have to have a little faith.

A bigger crowd wouldn’t be a bad thing either.

I leave the stage with a new surge of confidence. The size of the crowd doesn’t matter; it’s their reaction that solidifies that I’m on the right path. Harrison slaps me on the back and congratulates me before he returns to the stage for the next performance. My goal now is to sing three songs. I just have to figure out how to get Trixie to move me to the next slot. Baby steps, but I’ll get there.

I stumble as I walk back to the green room as I catch the flying redhead in my arms, thankful that my guitar is still slung over my shoulder. Layla buries her head in my neck with her legs wrapped around my waist. I set my hand on her waist and push a little to get her to let go. She slides down slowly causing me to close my eyes and wish this wasn’t happening right now.

“You were fantastic. I had no idea!”

I want to say of course you didn’t because we don’t know anything about each other except for what we learned in bed and that’s not much to go by since I only remember a small portion of it.

“Thank you,” I respond, hoping to end the conversation there. Layla has other ideas though and steps forward, placing her hand on my chest.

“Want to come over after my show?”

I look over the top of her head before looking back at her. “I can’t, Layla –”

“Why not?” she asks before I can finish.

I step back. “I’m not in a place right now where I can do this.” I motion between her and I. “I need friends right now. I need to focus on my music and not get wrapped up in something I can’t control.”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend, Liam, just a good time.”

“I get that, but I’m not even looking for a good time. I just got here, Layla. I need to establish who I am and figure out if I can even hack it in this industry. Can we be friends?”

“With benefits?” she asks with too much hope showing on her face.

I shake my head and step back, putting some space between us. “I can’t do that, not now. All I can offer is a friendship and support.”

“I get it. It’s cool. We can hang and be friends.”

“Thank you, Layla.”

She steps closer and kisses me on the cheek. “Some girl is going to be lucky when they finally land you. I think I just went about it the wrong way.”

I’ve already let her go, I want to say, but don’t.

Chapter 33

L
os Angeles during the holiday season is drab. They try hard, but it’s almost impossible to get into the spirit without cold weather and even a hint of snow. It doesn’t snow much in Beaumont, but we’ll at least get a few flurries and maybe a slushy road or two. But the fact that it’s Christmas and I’m wearing shorts makes me feel more like a bah-humbug than a jolly ole Saint Nick.

My grandmother
loves
the holidays. I put major emphasis on love. It makes me wonder how much damage my father has done to my mother because she’s not like this. The house is tastefully decorated, bringing enough festive cheer to make you forget that its eighty degrees outside. I never had this in Beaumont and I have a feeling my gram knows it. I have a distinct feeling that when she looks at me, she sees everything that I’ve missed out on and it must pain her to know that her daughter is not how she raised her. The most we’ve had is a tree, a fake one at that, which was large enough to take up the entire living room window.

Surprisingly, we never had a holiday party. You’d think with Sterling and his social agenda he’d be the first one to hold a gathering. Maybe he didn’t want the outside world to see just how dysfunctional his house really was. What strikes me the most is that my father isn’t riding my grandmother’s coattails. From the months that I’ve been here, she’s the epitome of social elegance and grace. I’ve escorted her to more high-priced dinners and red carpet events than I can count. I’m now the proud owner of an Armani tuxedo and a Rolex watch; all material items to me but important to her.

I help the staff hang the rest of the decorations. More are being added for tonight’s party. I have to dress up and usually it doesn’t bother me, but being home and dressed up seems like overkill. Grandma says that appearances matter and that I need to get used to that because when I’m signed, I’ll want to carry myself with an aura of refinement. At that, I rolled my eyes and told her politely that I’ve been playing for months now and am nowhere near the pot of gold I need to make an impression on any agents or talent scouts. I still play for the happy hour crew who isn’t really listening, but at least they’re clapping.

I could put my name in at other bars, but I’ve grown fond of Trixie and Harrison has become a good friend. At least in my eyes he is. He still doesn’t know how I ended up in L.A., he doesn’t ask and I’m not one to offer up the details about my life before I arrived here. I wouldn’t even know how to bring it up. It’s not like it’s an everyday topic and since I’ve changed my number, he doesn’t look at me oddly anymore. I think he was probably wondering why I was always silencing my phone.

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