Beats of the Heart - Chapter 37: Chapter 37

Miles became numb as he watched his DJs and Danny trying to figure out a plan to pull him out of this scandal. He knew his phone was ringing but didn't bother with answering it.
He didn't blame anyone in his home. His DJs were loyal, and Danny was his true family. Shawn cared for him deeply and had worked to protect him. This happened too fast and was completely unexpected.
He finally looked away from the people trying to save his reputation and focused on his phone. He frowned when he saw Trickshot's name flashing on the screen. Miles sighed and walked away from the group.
"I don't see the point in us talking," he said quietly when he answered the phone.
He could hear Trickshot's unstable breathing in the background. "Are you okay?" He finally asked.
Miles gave a hollow laugh. "You told me you would drag me through the mud."
Trickshot fell silent until he finally let out a long breath. "I was angry. But I didn't want this. He told me..."
He let his words trail off, but Miles already understood the implication of what he was saying. He was working with Brian.
Miles leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the feelings churning. "Do I even want to know how long you've been in bed with Eclipse?"
"He reached out over a year ago," Trickshot whispered.
"For what?"
"Information... but I didn't give him much. Random things here and there." There was another shuddered breath. "But he wanted to sabotage you... stop us from making music."
"Us?" Miles glanced at the others in the kitchen. They were watching him with concern but didn't approach. He couldn't see any of them betraying him like Trickshot. They loved music more than monetary gains, so they never stopped producing.
"He reached out to all of us... but I'm the only one who agreed to his offer."
The times Brian randomly showed up seemed to tie together now. Brian always knew where he was because of Trickshot. Hell, it even made sense that Brian would find out he was related to the Andersons.
"The times Requiem performed and he showed up? The recording studios?"
"I told him." Trickshot sniffles revealed he was crying. "Brian... he offered me a lot. Things I never thought possible."
"What? Fame and fortune? Record deals? What could possibly be worth it?" His voice came out like a growl.
"He... he said that I was nothing without you... but I could prove myself if I was with him. Be something more... something outside of Requiem's shadow." He sobbed.
Miles' head fell back and knocked against the wall. "You have talent and a wealth of potential. So don't bullshit me. It wasn't my shadow that oppressed you; it was your lack of confidence."
"He offered me a chance."
"A chance?" He was caught in a dark haze of rage until it bubbled out as a twisted laugh. "The reality is I pulled you out of that shit bar years ago. I took you in and welcomed you into my fucking home. I spent countless hours teaching you to sharpen your skills. I found you gigs and venues. I produced and marketed your music. Me, Trickshot. Was that not a chance? Wasn't that an opportunity?"
"I know..." Trickshots' words tapered off into a sob. "I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't know he would do this with the media."
Miles chuckled with disdain. "Then you are woefully naive."
"I... I didn't tell him everything. I didn't tell him about Requiem."
Miles sighed. He was wondering why Brian hadn't released that information. "Are you expecting my gratitude?"
"No!" Trickshot shouted. "No. I know what I did was shitty... but I wasn't..."
He didn't finish. "You weren't in the right state of mind? Sober?"
"Right." Trickshot's voice sounded broken. "I wasn't."
"And what about now? Are you sober?"
He hesitated. "Not really."
Miles groaned inwardly. "Do you still have that number I gave you?"
"Yeah."
"Use it. Call that number now."
"Miles, I'm so sorry."
"I can't forgive you, Trickshot. Not like this. Not now." He fell silent and listened to the quiet sobs on the other side of the line. "If you are truly regretful, get help. Get sober. And when you're clean, apologize to me again."
It took a moment for Trickshot to compose himself. "Okay. I will. I promise."
After Miles ended the call, he looked down at his phone and saw more messages and notifications. He silenced his phone. He pushed off the wall and returned to the group, surprised that Scott had joined them.
"Hey, Scott. I hope Jules isn't upset you're here instead of spending time with her."
Scott gave him a sympathetic smile. "Not at all. She's picking up some food for everyone and will be here shortly. How are you doing?"
Miles shrugged. "Fine, considering."
"I'm sorry. I know this is a rough day for you, but we'll find a way through it." Scott said with too much optimism.
"It's alright," Miles said, sinking back in a chair beside Shawn. "Definitely not the worst day of my life."
It was a poor attempt at a joke and caused more looks of pity than Miles could handle. He waved his hand, trying to lighten the mood. "What were you all discussing?"
Flux hesitated. "A plan, of sorts. But also looking into the contracts with Aura."
Miles nodded. His chest ached, realizing it would be best if his DJs left him and went to Aura after this mess. "That makes sense. Aura will take care of you."
Flux huffed. "Idiot. All of us. Including you."
Miles jerked his gaze to Shawn. "Why me? Why take on something so troublesome?"
"Because we know this is a farce," Shawn said.
"Still, is it worth it?"
"As a business, the investment is still solid. We can turn this around with the right team, and you will continue to turn a profit," Shawn explained patiently. "On a personal note, I couldn't fathom doing this deal without you."
Scott handed him a couple of documents. "One is for Dirge and you. The other is for Requiem. Will he be joining us?"
Miles faltered, remembering that Scott didn't know his identity. "Yeah," he murmured, figuring it was time to tell Scott the truth.
Scott beamed. "Great. Now, while you all review the contracts, Shawn and I will make some calls."
Scott quickly left the table as he started talking on the phone, leaving everyone else to review the contracts on their own.
Shawn leaned in so he could speak quietly. "Miles, I have a couple of ideas for this situation. One is to ignore it but reveal you as Requiem. The hype from the unmasking will temporarily distract the masses. We would take this time to push your music and let it speak for you. We'll promote your talents and let that take precedence."
"But it would never disappear, right?"
Shawn sighed. "It would be a stain—a constant topic that would be brought up in interviews and such."
"And the other idea?"
Shawn looked pained by the idea in his mind. "We tell the truth. Your truth."
"What do you mean?"
"Poverty and its coexisting tragedies. The dangers you faced. Your mother's illness. Your efforts to take care of her. Larry's inadequacies." Shawn was wary of bringing up the past. "What you overcame."
Miles trembled. What he overcame included too much—too much sorrow and pain.
His fingers touched the raised scar on his wrist, and he felt the burn from the razor years ago. Because someone released his medical records, he couldn't hide his self-harm if he went public. It was one of his lowest points, and he kept that piece of himself locked away, but now it could be dragged out into the spotlight.
Setting his pain aside, he would have to unbury the dead—his high school friends and his mother. The thought chilled him. "I can't."
"The truth can turn this around, but I won't force you. This is your story to tell."
Miles said nothing, but his eyes reflected his fear and reluctance.
"We'll come up with something different." It was apparent Shawn didn't want to push him too far.
Miles lowered his gaze, focusing on his scars. "But this was the best option, wasn't it?"
"At the moment. There could be another route I'm not seeing."
Miles pushed away, and an empty laugh escaped from his lips. "There's nothing else. You already know that. I have to choose between people's hatred or their fucking pity. Live with this stigma or bear all my scars." He rubbed his wrists out of habit. "All of my scars."
"Miles?" Danny called out tentatively when he heard his outburst.
Shawn gently grabbed Miles' chin to keep hold of his attention. "I have a good team, Miles. We don't have to say anything you don't want to. Do you trust me?"
Miles hesitated but nodded eventually. "Yeah."
He pulled his arms around himself and watched everyone work around him. Miles had feared that some of his turbulent past would come and haunt him again. He had expected it. However, with it glaring on every news channel and media outlet, it hurt him that much more.
Worse, Shawn was working diligently to help mitigate the damage with Aura—a company he hadn't even signed with yet. Shawn tried to hide it, but Miles could see the panic and stress settling.
More importantly, Shawn shouldn't have to fight all his battles, but it seemed like he kept inadvertently relying on him—Eclipse, the Andersons, and now the media.
Was he going to determine that Miles was too much work—as an artist and a lover? Was Brian going to take everything away from him?
While everyone was distracted, he got up and went to his studio alone. He curled up on the couch with his head buried in his arms. The music from his unreleased album vibrated the walls to keep him company.
"Goddamnit," Miles breathed out.
He hated this. He hated the poverty he grew up in. He hated the cancer that stole his mother. He hated his father, who despised him. He hated the hospital that revealed his records. He hated the jobs he had to scramble for to survive. He hated the mask he lived behind. He hated the media, who tore him apart and left him raw. He hated the fear crippling him.
God, he hated so much.
He doubted the magic he felt in the world just a few short hours ago. Now, he could only feel the malignant poison of reality.
Miles flinched when the music's volume lowered. He kept his head in his arms when he heard soft footsteps approaching him and avoided tensing when the couch dipped next to him.
"I'm sorry," Danny's soft voice broke the tense atmosphere.
"It's not your fault," Miles mumbled.
Danny shifted his body and leaned against Miles, his head resting on his shoulder. "No. But I can still hate this for you."
"It was bound to happen," Miles said quietly, finally lifting his head. "Between our father and Brian... my past was going to be revealed. It's like I was holding my breath this entire time... waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew it would be bad, but nothing like this."
"Shawn and Scott are working on it, though. You just got to trust them."
Miles shook his head. "They shouldn't have to work on this. It's not their job."
"Not yet, but it will be. They are just working ahead of schedule."
"Do you think he still wants me?"
Danny was quiet. "Shawn? What do you mean? Like Aura or Shawn?"
"I don't know," Miles whispered. "Both?"
Danny huffed. "I think that's a stupid question."
Miles sighed. "But the things they are saying about me..."
"Fine. Let's talk about it. They say you have been peddling drugs since you were a kid. Is that true?"
Miles shook his head. "No. Never. I worked, but it was just to keep food on the table when my mom got sick."
"You were in some gang war?"
Miles laughed sadly. "I wasn't. Maybe I was caught at the wrong place and time, but no..."
"Arrested?" Danny knew when he was arrested and grinned.
Miles chuckled. "Only that one time I hit Larry."
"That is a memory I will always cherish," Danny hummed happily. "Alright. The mental hospital part?"
The smile slipped from Miles' face. It was a subject he had never brought up to Danny before. He never wanted him to see that part of himself. He rubbed the scars on his wrists as an unconscious habit. "It wasn't a mental hospital," he said quietly.
Danny sat up a little and gave Miles a concerned look. "Miles, what happened?"
Miles wanted to keep it hidden. Save some innocence for his brother, but it would be worse if Danny found out through the media and not from himself.
"A psych hold." His voice trembled a little.
"Psych hold? But they do that for..." Danny paled, and his gaze fell on Miles' wrists. The raised skin was something he had never noticed under the ink. "Oh... oh, Miles."
He wrapped his arms around Miles and held him tightly. He didn't ask an intrusive question like 'why' or forced-fed Miles his opinions. He just held his brother, which was the best form of comfort.
Miles squeezed his arm. "It's been a long time since that dark place."
Danny sighed. "Does Shawn know?"
Miles nodded. "He does."
"And he didn't run away," Danny said, and a small, encouraging smile pulled at his lips. He paused for a moment. "The last bit of rumor is about you buying drugs. Considering your stance on drug use, I'm sure that's something we can ignore."
However, Miles tensed a little, and it didn't go unnoticed by Danny. "Miles?"
"Once," Miles trembled. "Only once."
"What?!"
Miles sunk his head in his hands. "The day they released me from the psych hold... I bought a bottle of pills."
He heard Danny's small gasp. "But... you didn't take the pills, right?"
"No," he said quietly. "I wanted to, though. On my way home from the dealer, I came across a club playing good music, so I used a fake ID to get in. It was supposed to be my last night, but then someone approached me and changed... everything."
He looked at Danny and smiled. He wiped the tears that had streamed down Danny's cheeks. "The man flirted with me, and I was such an asshole to him. But amid our banter, he showed me a kindness I never thought was possible."
"Really?"
"The world is full of bastards and assholes, but somehow I ran into the one man who showed me respect and patience." He laughed. "I don't believe in love at first sight, but I believe in connections... and the connection was there."
"What happened?"
"He gave me his business card, and I gave him a kiss."
He stood up and walked to a small desk in the corner of his studio. He rummaged through one of the drawers until he pulled out a worn box. He walked back over to Danny and opened the box, revealing the small plastic bottle that once held those pills.
"That night, I was expecting to die, and the weight of the bottle in my pocket was a reminder of that fate. But after meeting that man... I don't know... something shifted inside of me. I emptied the bottle and stored it away as a reminder."
"A reminder?"
"That there is always kindness in the world." He smiled and closed the box.
"And the man?"
Miles laughed. "I didn't call him. I just... watched from afar for 12 years."
Danny's eyes widened. "Is this the person Eve talked about when I first met her?"
Miles smiled and nodded. "I just never expected him to walk back into my life."
Realization dawned on Danny. "Oh my god... It was Shawn?"
"Serendipity," Miles said as he leaned back into the couch, and his smile fell again. "He waited for my call this entire time... so logically, he will stand by my side during this mess. But the trauma from my fucked up past keeps needling me and telling me that I'm not worth the effort... that he'll walk away."
Danny reached over and held his hand. "You are worth the effort, though."
Miles shook his head and closed his eyes, letting the tears pour freely. "I know. I think I know. But somehow, I'm still resigning myself... trying to prepare my mind for when he leaves. I try to console myself by holding on to small pieces of him, which is better than nothing. I did that for 12 years—holding on to his business card and clinging to the random interviews or articles about him."
Miles wiped his hand over his eyes, hoping to stop the tears. "Now, I have more to hold on to. I have several of his ties in my closet. The pair of cufflinks on my end table. His cologne on my vanity. Such good fucking memories... and this." He waved his hand, gesturing to the studio.
"The studio?"
Miles nodded. "Listen."
Danny and Miles became quiet, letting the music fill their silence. Miles placed a hand over Danny's chest and tapped to the beat.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
"A heartbeat?"
"My new album... every song was created from the beats of the heart... Shawn's heart. I listened to every rhythm his heartbeat played. When he was holding me. When he was waking up next to me. When he was angry. When he kissed me... every moment I could. Every song is him."
"I'll love him in every song I create." Miles closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the couch. "Because I do, Danny. I love him so fucking much. And if he decides I'm too much, I know my battered heart won't survive a break of that magnitude... but at least I'll still have him in my music."
Danny shifted on the couch, but Danny was quiet. What he didn't expect was a pair of hands grasping his own. He jolted, opened his eyes, and found Shawn kneeling before him, and Danny was nowhere to be found.