Beats of the Heart - Chapter 30: Chapter 30

Shawn and Miles stayed curled together in the bed for a while, not wanting to break their moment. Their journey to reconnect had been too arduous, and any slice of time they carved out for each other was truly magical.
Miles' head rested on Shawn's chest, listening to his heart. He would flick his fingers across Shawn's stomach, mentally drafting something new. However, his reverie was interrupted when his phone started to ring.
He jolted and fumbled to find it. When he looked at the Caller ID, his emotions twisted with nerves. "I've been waiting for this call," he explained as he scrambled off the bed and answered.
"This is Miles," he answered. He paced a little, revealing that he was a little nervous.
"That's right. Unfortunately, unforeseen circumstances have made that payment method somewhat unstable, and I do not want to risk his education..."
His fingers tapped on his leg subconsciously. "Correct. I would appreciate it if we could refund what was paid to the original form of payment, and I can pay the first semester in full from my personal account..."
Miles nodded. "Right, I have already set up my account for future automatic payments... I'm aware of the costs, but no payment plan will be needed... Correct."
Miles laughed, the stress melting from his shoulders. "Yeah, the dean and I go way back. I owe her a few favors, so we'll tack this on the list."
He sunk down on the bed, finally exhaling. "I truly appreciate this."
He hung up the phone and fell back on the bed, sprawling out. A laugh escaped his lips.
Shawn crawled over to him and pulled him into his embrace. "Good news?"
Miles nodded. "Danny's free and clear. Larry is not paying a single dime for his college education."
"Really?" Shawn was equally optimistic, knowing Larry's personality.
"I wanted to get everything approved before I tell Danny, but we have been on edge with Larry lately. He had been hinting he would pull Danny out of Columbia to seek a degree he deemed acceptable."
Shawn's brow creased. "And he was going to threaten to use Danny's tuition against him?"
Miles nodded. "Danny is independent at this point. When he started with Dirge, we started a new bank account for his checks. That way, he doesn't need to touch the account Larry has deposited his allowance. He pays most of his small bills, and I handle everything else. Tuition was the last item we needed to cut ties with Larry."
"Will Danny be okay knowing you did this?"
Miles sighed. "Yes and no. He will understand that this needs to be done. But he sometimes thinks he's a burden, which is bullshit. Still, I can't blame the kid for his insecurities. Larry... fuck... he did a number on him."
Shawn's embrace tightened around him. He didn't ask about what Larry did. He just held Miles. "I'm glad you have each other."
"Me too," Miles whispered.
"You know what would be easy to do?" Shawn asked as he kissed Mile's temple. "Ruining Larry's business."
Miles laughed. "I'm sure."
Shawn shifted, pinning Miles on his back and hovering over him. "As easy as breathing for me. And it would be a helluva faster than taking down Eclipse."
Miles' breath stuttered. "You're serious?"
"Of course."
Miles bit his lip. "What about the people working for him? Their jobs could be their only means of a livelihood."
Warmth spread through Shawn's chest, and he leaned forward to kiss Miles. "How the hell are you so kind?"
Miles snorted. "That's a subjective opinion."
Shawn kissed him again. "Let me put Larry in his place, please?"
Miles closed his eyes, imagining it. He had to admit; it was a beautiful picture. Still, he wasn't sure if he should go down that route. He already relied too heavily on Shawn for his fight against Eclipse.
"Miles," Shawn murmured and trailed kisses up his neck. "Don't overthink my offer. The Andersons own a mid-level equity firm, and I can absorb it into the Pierce's firm. No one loses their job except the obvious CEO, and I obtain more revenue. You're doing me a favor by allowing me to take out competition."
Miles groaned. "I still feel like I'm asking too much of you."
"You technically haven't asked me anything except to use my recording studios. If anything, I've been very greedy in our relationship." Shawn said with a smile, still planting small kisses on his neck and collarbone.
Miles fell silent again. Technically his grandparents would be financially stable. They live off their investments and have nothing to do with Larry's business. The only ones who would suffer would be Larry, Madeline, and Will.
He released a long breath. "I honestly would love to see them struggle. As long as it's not inconvenient or a risk to you, I suppose I'm on board."
There was a mischievous glint in Shawn's eyes, and Miles could tell that he was drafting his plans. "This is going to be so much fun."
Miles scrunched his nose. "Hostile business takeovers? Fun? Gross."
"It's a fucking rush," Shawn said as he nuzzled into the crook of Miles' neck. "Especially when everything falls into place. In fact, you'll see the fruit of our labors for Eclipse within the next few days."
Miles jolted. "You're bringing him down so soon?"
"I wish," Shawn sighed. "We're just delivering a hard blow. It's going to be the turning point, though. Hopefully, it will distract him enough that he is no long so brazen with you."
"Whatever you're doing now is working. I haven't heard from him for a while."
Shawn gently caresses his jaw. "Can you promise me something?"
Miles smiled and leaned into his touch. "Anything."
"Don't give Brian a chance. He might threaten you, making you believe your only option is to give in, but it's not."
"I know—" Miles started, but Shawn shook his head, cutting him off.
"The things we are uncovering are... disconcerting. Eclipse conducts business worse than I ever imagined. He might say something that will make you feel backed into a corner. He may even threaten your family."
The seriousness in his tone made Miles hold his breath. "Would he... would he do anything to Danny or the others?"
Shawn shook his head. "I won't allow it, Miles. He's going to threaten, but don't give in. You're not fighting this alone."
"Does he have anything to use against me?" Miles asked, terrified of the answer.
Shawn shook his head. "No. Not that we can find. But I will tell you if he found anything he could use against you. I ask you to talk to me if he approaches you. If I know what's happening,  I can help protect you."
Miles closed his eyes, letting Shawn's words sink in. "Okay. I'll trust you."
Shawn kissed his forehead, grateful to hear Miles say this.  They stayed in bed, holding each other until loud shouts from upstairs jostled them.
Miles groaned. "Trickshot must be up now."
He climbed out of bed and pulled on some sweats in his closet. He typically liked his sweats a size or two larger, so he knew they would fit Shawn. He tossed a spare set to Shawn, and they quickly ran through their morning routine.
The voices got louder as they climbed the stairs, and found that the DJs had gathered around the entrance. They were blocking Trickshot from leaving while Danny shuffled his feet in the living room. Everyone was disheveled and exhausted after their night. They only had a few hours of sleep.
However, Trickshot looked the worse. He was absolutely wrecked. His hair was a tangled mess, his skin was waxen, and his eyes were sunken.
"This is fucking ridiculous. You can't keep me here like some goddamn prisoner." Trickshot seethed.
"Yeah, we can," Phase shot back. "We need to talk this shit through."
"There's nothing to talk about!"
Miles had a feeling this argument had been repeated several times already. Miles shook his head and went to the kitchen unnoticed. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and leaned against the counter, watching the group.
"Get out of my fucking way!" Trickshot's voice cracked.
"He's right," Miles said, breaking through the tense atmosphere. "We can't keep him here."
Trickshot scoffed. "There you go. The almighty boss said I can leave."
Miles hid the pain that fluctuated in his chest. "You need to hydrate."
He tossed the water bottle, and Trickshot nearly dropped it as he clumsily caught it. "Right. I'm leaving."
Miles stepped forward, causing Trickshot to falter. "You have every right to leave, but we need to talk."
"I have nothing to say."
Miles shrugged. "I have something to say, so I'm giving you a choice. We talk now or this afternoon?"
"I don't want to talk to you."
Miles crossed his arms over his chest and stared down Trickshot.
Trickshot sighed. "Fine. Meet me at the coffee shop by my apartment in a couple of hours. I need a shower and a nap."
Miles nodded. "I'll be there at noon, so don't be late."
The other DJs let him pass and watched him leave.
"What the hell is wrong with him?" Phase asked no one in particular when the door closed. He turned to Miles with a sympathetic look. "You know he won't show, right?"
Miles sunk into a chair. "Nothing productive would have happened now. So, I'll still make an effort."
"He's not going to change either," Quake added with a sad shake of his head. "We have all seen this shit play out before. His fate is either a cell or the ground."
Miles glanced at Danny, who visibly flinched. "Quake. Stop. We don't know what's happening, so we sure as fuck won't make assumptions."
Quake noticed Danny and looked down with shame. "Sorry, Miles."
"I'll meet him and see what happens," Miles said quietly.
"He doesn't want to be saved, Miles," Flux softly said.
Miles pounded his fist on the table and stood up so fast his chair fell back and clattered on the ground. "I know," he said darkly.
He had seen people sinking into addiction and gambling. He saw them waste away at the hands of their demons. He never wanted that for Trickshot. He brought him out of the shitty neighborhood for a chance at a better life.
He knew he had to let him go. He knew the end result but hated the fact that he was facing reality sooner than he anticipated.
"He stole from you," Phase tentatively spoke up, recognizing Miles' turmoil. "And you still went to help him at Ice. You've done more than what's expected."
Shawn gripped his shoulders, but Miles pulled away. "Sorry, just give me a moment."
He went back downstairs, ignoring his bedroom, and headed straight to the basement. He needed to think and get his head right.
He turned on his turntables and switched to the hardest beat in his arsenal. The speakers blasted the music, making him feel the air vibrate around him. He positioned his hands on the wax of his vinyl and the crossfader.
However, his fingers slipped at his first attempt at a scratch, and the needle skipped. He looked at the record as if it was foreign to him. It had been such a long time since he made a mistake like that right off the bat. He turned off the music with frustration.
"Fuck."
He placed his hands on the table and heaved a heavy breath. Arms wrapped around his waist, and he could feel Shawn's kiss on his shoulder.
"I hate this," Miles whispered.
"Me too."
"You know exactly how to handle this. You would have done this ages ago instead of getting to this point." Miles muttered.
"I've been doing this for a long time," Shawn said, pulling him closer. "But our situations are vastly different. I'm only close to a few people in my company. You, on the other hand, have created a family here."
Miles closed his eyes and leaned his head against Shawn's shoulder. "Nevertheless, I have to cut my losses. I have to make the right choice for the remaining people of my company."
"Yes. You will have to. And when it's done, we'll be here waiting for you." Shawn whispered, giving him a gentle kiss.
Miles found himself sitting in the coffee shop close to Trickshot's home. He waited 45 minutes past the appointed time and was on his second cup of coffee. Any concern or empathy he had stored for the young man was dwindling.
He believed in second chances—hell, even third and fourth chances—but Trickshot was burning through all the fucks he could give.
Miles glowered out the window. It was freezing outside, and the dark clouds were threatening snow. Miles hated parking in this area and decided to ride his bike instead of driving the car. His thick sweater, bomber jacket, riding gloves, and helmet did nothing to fight the biting cold, and he was not looking forward to the ride back.
Miles cursed as the snowflakes started to fall, and the older couple behind him gasped at his outburst. He should have just dealt with the parking and drove the fucking car.
The bell at the front entrance rang, and Trickshot waltzed in. He gave Miles an unconcerned nod and ordered a coffee. Any patience Miles could spare had disappeared from his carefree attitude. Now he was fuming.
Trickshot sat down with his fresh coffee and smiled at Miles. "Sorry, I'm a little late."
"A little late would be 5 minutes," Miles said, looking at his watch. "You're 52 minutes late."
Trickshot shrugged a little. "Got caught up."
"On what?"
"Does it matter?"
Miles rubbed his temples. "We have a few things to discuss, so I will implore you to be open and honest with me. Are you able to do that?"
Trickshot shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "I don't think this whole thing is necessary."
"It is. Did you want to walk somewhere for more privacy?" He was fine to move locations, but he wouldn't let this time slip away.
"Fuck it. Just tell me what's up."
Miles sighed and tapped lightly on the table. "What's happening to you?"
Trickshot snorted. "Gotta be specific, Miles."
"If something is wrong and you need help, I have resources for you." Miles started. Flux said he didn't want to be saved, and she was probably right, but he still wanted to try.
"What the fuck? Like my personal life is any of your business."
Miles shook his head. "When it affects your job, it is my business."
"It's not affecting my job."
Miles nearly laughed. "Last night, I got a call from Ice that you're on the stage biting off my setlist and high on god-knows-what. They had to pull you off early because of your performance. So yes, it is affecting your job."
"Jesus Christ. It was just a little Molly. Nothing serious. I don't need help."
Miles pulled a business card from his pocket for a therapist who specialized in addiction. He slid it across the table. "I still want you to have options for help."
"Being an overbearing mother hen is not in your job description," Trickshot scoffed as he picked up the card and dropped it in Miles' coffee cup.
"Do you remember what's in your job description?" Miles kept his voice steady and ignored the ache of disappointment. "Creating music. Performances. Streaming when possible. Your last contribution to this company has lapsed beyond the contracted timeframe. At this point, we have lost profits by keeping you signed on."
Trickshot's eyes widened, and he paled a little. "What are you saying?"
"You're costing more money than what you're worth," Miles said, hating the bite in his words, but they had to be said.
If Trickshot refused to see the error of his ways or accept the hand being offered, Miles couldn't continue to keep him on. At this point, he was a risk and liability.  If he stole from Requiem, who else would he steal from? Was any of his performances or music original?
Trickshot seemed to be at a loss. "What?"
"I wanted to sit down with you and have a productive dialogue, but your actions have proved our goals no longer aligned. As of today, I have determined that Dirge should part ways with you."
"Wait—"
Miles stood up,  took the business card from his mug, and laid it on a napkin before Trickshot. The remaining coffee had stained it, but still legible. "Typically, because you are in violation of your contract, you would be assessed a fee. However, in hopes of a quick dissolution of our partnership, I will not enforce the breach of contract. You will receive one last paycheck on Friday."
Trickshot's breath was ragged. "You can't do this."
Miles closed his eyes for a moment to push away his turbulent feelings. It should have never gotten to this. "Dirge Records will send the information regarding your separation electronically to the email address we have on file."
Miles started to make his way to his door.
"Don't walk away from me!" Trickshot was standing with a wild look in his eyes. "If you do this, I will make sure you're dragged through the mud! No one will want to work with you!"
"I wish you luck on your future endeavors," Miles said somberly, leaving the cafe.