Blur (Changing Colors Book 2) (52 page)

“Dad, I’m tired of dealing with your insecurities. I’m tired of living a lie all because you refuse to understand. I’m gay. I’ve been gay for my whole damn life, and it’s never going to change.”

A loud crunching sound startles me. I stand on my feet, but still manage to keep myself in the living room.

“You can say goodbye to your trust fund. Say goodbye to your job at the label. Say goodbye to everything. I will fucking ruin you.”

Jamie laughs. It’s not an uncomfortable laugh either, it’s the kind of laugh you let loose when you know you’ve got someone exactly where you want them. “Are you sure about that,
dad?”

“Son, I’ve been around a hell of a lot longer than you have. I have more connections. More favors owed. More everything than you could wrap your HIV-ridden head around. Believe me when I say this. Your career in this industry is done.”

“But see, Alistair, the funny thing is, I learned from the best, remember? You groomed me to be just like you in all things, especially business. I learned to never give anyone all of my trust. I learned to keep things in my back pocket for times like these. I learned how to dig deep and find shit that’s blackmail worthy. So, really, the question is, are you going to walk away quietly, forget about the non-compete clause and let Brooke and I start our own label? Or are you going to make this a hell of lot more difficult than it needs to be?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the numerous contracts you’ve made null and void with various artists because of some bigoted reason, like the lead singer
being queer
or the female drummer
who gives great head but is too dumb to live
? Your words, not mine. Or how about using illegal ways to get dirt on a label that should’ve had the opportunity to sign a band like Careless Cockups? Or what about all of the investments you’ve got in offshore accounts to avoid paying taxes? I doubt the IRS would be too thrilled about that. I can only imagine the kind of back taxes and possible jail time you’d owe for that one…”

The room is silent. I knew Alistair was sleazy and conniving, but I had no idea it went to that extent.

“You’d do that to your own father?” His voice is quiet for once. The loud, booming, egotistical tone long gone.

“I’m only treating you the exact way you were planning on treating me,
your own son
.”

“What do you want?” He snarls

“I’ll have my lawyer send my demands in an email, as well as the contracts that free Brooke and me from the non-compete clause.”

Footsteps move towards the door, which eases open and then stops. “This is really how you want to play it?”

“No, Alistair, this is how
you
want to play it. This was never my intention. My hope was for you to accept me, your son, for who I am, but I had a feeling that was a shot in the dark. I knew I needed to find another way if you ended up reacting the way I expected you to.”

“Have your lawyer send everything to my lawyer. Whatever you want is yours. And after that, I never want to see your fucking face again. Consider us done from here on out. You’re not my son anymore. You’re nobody to me.”

“Likewise, Alistair. The feeling is very mutual.”

And then, the door slams shut. I can’t even resume my place on the couch before Jamie is back in the room.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could ya?” He offers an amused smirk.

I shrug. “Sorry. I just was afraid of how he was going to react.”

Jamie sits beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close. “Not going to lie. I was a little concerned I was going to end up with a matching black eye.”

I sit up, staring back at his face. “Okay. Who in the hell gave you that? I honestly thought it was your dad. But obviously, that’s not the case. So what the hell, Jamie? How’d you end up with that?”

“If I told you a bar brawl, would you believe me?”

I shake my head.

“Fell down a flight of stairs?”

“Nope.”

“What about the lead singer of a band we’re both familiar with?”

“What?”

“I might have met up with Dylan and the guys in London for the album release.”

“Bu-but that doesn’t explain the shiner? Did you guys get in a fight?”

He shakes his head. “In my defense, I did not fight back. And in his defense, I think he couldn’t hold back all of that pent-up aggression that’s been building over the past couple of months.”

“He punched you?”

Jamie nods, smirking. “Yeah, baby girl. I’m finding you incite quite the reaction from your male admirers.”

I throw myself back on the couch, burying my face in a pillow.

His hand touches my back. “Don’t freak out. It was a good thing, I promise. One that needed to happen.”

I groan, and he responds with a soft chuckle. “I gotta tell ya, sweetheart. Your boyfriend has quite the right hook. It nearly knocked me on my ass.”

I sit up, removing the pillow from my face. “He’s not my boyfriend, Jame. I messed things up too badly between us.”

He points to his eye. “I’ve got a black eye that says otherwise. I think if he were really done with you, he wouldn’t have even bothered. He’s in love with you, and this is the kind of reaction love spurs in people.” Jamie grabs my hand, holding it tightly. “I think you need to go to him, Brooke. I think you need to fix things between you two. Actually, I’m kind of demanding you to do just that. I can’t stand another day watching you sit around like the walking dead.”

I’m shaking my head. “I don’t even know where to start. I don’t think he can really forgive me.”

“I think situations like these call for big gestures, wouldn’t you say?” He smiles a secret smile. “I did my big gesture. The press conference. Pouring my heart out while the entire world watched on. Now it’s your turn.”

I stare at him, skeptical. “You say that like you already have something in mind.”

He nods. “Oh, believe me, I most definitely have something in mind. And it includes getting on a plane to London for MTV’s EMAs.”

My hands gesture wildly at my sides. “And I’m just supposed to show up and do what?”

He grabs my hands, holding them to his chest. “I promise you’re not going to regret this. Okay? Let’s go get the man of your dreams, baby girl.”

If not regretting this means Dylan will forgive me and give me another chance, there are no limits to the lengths I will go. “Okay…but Jamie? What about the man of your dreams? Shouldn’t you get to fall in love, too? I shouldn’t be the only one.”

His hands cup my cheeks. “Brooke, don’t you know? I already fell in love, sweetheart.” Lips crest into a beaming, heartfelt smile. “I fell in love with the way you’ve loved me.”

Live From The Red Carpet: Coverage of the MTV EMA’s.

RedRedCarpetGossip.com

We’re live at the MTV EMA show tonight, and the red carpet is pulsating with glitz and glamour. Some of the world’s favorite musicians are here, ready to celebrate a night of music and awards.

The biggest questions of the night revolve around tonight’s performances. Award shows are known for being mapped out, staffed, and rehearsed months ahead of time. But sometimes, shows must be good at ad-libbing when real life blows up the script.

Sources have informed us that Italian artist, Fabrizio Mallora, will be unable to perform tonight. The famous singer, known for his opera-like vocals and dramatic range, was forced to cancel due to emergency vocal cord surgery. He has had reoccurring issues with hemorrhaging and underwent surgery in Rome two days ago in attempt to stop the latest.

Thankfully, he’s expected to make a full recovery. But the producers of tonight’s show have kept Mallora’s replacement hush-hush. Sources have revealed we should expect a “do not miss” kind of performance. It’s rumored that the band Careless Cockups—whose debut album hit platinum mere days after it released—is somehow involved.

We caught up with Careless Cockups on the red carpet, and when we asked Dylan about the band performing in tonight’s show, he seemed genuinely confused.

This only leaves us with more questions.

Is Dylan just a really good actor?

Or is something else in store for us tonight?

Stay tuned for more as this story develops.

If you can’t tune in to tonight’s awards show, find a way to set your DVRs. We have a feeling this show will be one you don’t want to miss.

Brooke

We’re standing stage right, waiting for our cue to go on. This is the big moment. In a matter of minutes, I’ll be on that stage, in front of thousands of people, not to mention the millions at home watching from their televisions. Talk about a big gesture. This is the biggest gesture in the history of biggest gestures.

But Dylan deserves this from me. He deserves to hear me beg for forgiveness. And that’s what I’m going to do. Through the only right song choice for this moment, I’m going to ask for a second chance. I’m going to beg to come home.

Because Dylan is my home.

And that’s why I’ll be singing the song that not so long ago, Dylan told me was his theme song. I might not have understood it in that moment, but I do now. I just hope it still rings true for him.

“Jamie, do you have my cell?” I ask, gesturing towards him.

He walks towards me, confused. “Uh, yeah, but why do you need your phone, Brooke? You guys are going on in like two minutes.”

I hold out my hand. “I just need to do something.”

He shrugs, handing it to me.

I find Dylan’s name and send him a text message, hoping he’ll check his messages before we go on stage.

Because I miss you isn’t enough.

Vous êtes absent de moi
. (You are missing from me)

You’re my home, Dylan. Please let me come back home.

Instead of waiting for a response, I shut my phone off, hand it Jamie, and grab my guitar. We’re given the cue to head onto the darkened stage.

“You okay, love?” Jesse whispers, sitting on the stool beside me. He’s a saint for agreeing to this last minute. It took some convincing, but I think once he saw how much I truly love his brother, he really couldn’t say no.

I nod, the unlit stage shadowing my face, hiding the fear and uncertainty in my eyes.

He slides the guitar strap over his shoulder. His eyes are on me, and then his large hand grips my knee, anchoring me. “You got this, Brooke, okay? If I didn’t believe in you, if I didn’t believe in the fact that you two belong together, I wouldn’t be sitting here doing this with you. Now, it’s time to believe in yourself, love. It’s time to take back what belongs to you.”

His words spark something inside me.

Ed Sheeran is back on the stage, introducing our last-minute duo to the crowd. I shut my eyes and inhale a deep breath, calming my nerves and finding my determination.

“We’ve got a bit of a surprise, tonight. Two wonderfully talented people have come together for an unexpected duet. Please welcome Brooke Sawyer, one of the most talented producers I’ve ever met. A girl I love dearly and who’s now about to show the world all of her beautiful talent. And Jesse Bissette, one of the fiercest drummers I’ve ever seen. Tonight, he’s setting his sticks down for our acoustic enjoyment.”

I stand up from my stool and fear fills Jesse’s eyes.

Placing the mic in the stand, I shake my head. “I’ve got this, Bissette. I’ve fucking got this.” I don’t want to sit down for this. I want to stand. I want to sing my heart out. I want to put myself out there. I’m standing on my own two feet now. I’m ready to stand on the ledge and take a chance. I’m not hiding anymore. No matter what happens tonight, I want to prove to myself that I’ve given it everything.

He grins. “This is yours tonight, Tink.”

The stage is still dark as Jesse begins to play the opening chords, and then I’m breathing the words into the mic.
I want my second chance. I want to come back home.

My guitar joins Jesse’s as his voice backs up mine. Even though we didn’t get an actual rehearsal, and our sound check was a ten-minute ordeal, it doesn’t matter. This is bigger than us. This moment is motivated by love, and no amount of rehearsal can compare to that.

The song is building. My heart follows it’s rhythm, pounding steady and strong inside my chest. I’m consumed with it, eyes open wide and taking this in.