Beats of the Heart - Chapter 41: Chapter 41

Miles woke up wrapped in Shawn's arms, his head resting on his chest. He smiled and nestled in closer. Shawn tightened his embrace, and he gave Miles a mumbled, "Good morning."
Miles kissed his chest gently and sighed contently. They returned to Shawn's place to pack some of his clothes and belongings. Miles' room now has several suitcases scattered about and yesterday's clothes flung across the floor.
Asking Shawn to move in seemed to be correct. There was no second-guessing or doubts in Miles' mind. In fact, he loathed the idea of Shawn sleeping in a separate bed.
When Shawn said "forever," Miles saw his future unfold. Shawn was the heartbeat that would sustain him for the rest of his life.
"What's your plans for today?" Shawn asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Miles grinned. "Locking myself away in the studio and pretending the world outside of music and us doesn't exist."
"Are you saying that because you want to avoid your interview today?"
Miles groaned and hid his face against Shawn's chest. "I really don't want to think about it."
Shawn ran his fingers through Miles' hair affectionately. "The worst of it will be over soon. The interview will air this evening. Tomorrow, we will push a few more articles. After New Year's, your Vogue article will be published, and then we have something lined up with GQ."
"So much to do," Miles grumbled.
"I know, baby. It will be busy for a while but will be well worth it."
"How long do you think this will take? To clear up everything? To move on?" Miles asked with reservation. He knew it was necessary, but he wanted to do something more with his music.
"A couple of months at the most. We will be able to tell your story and circulate it through the most popular channels. By then, we will shift gears and promote your album."
Miles fell silent as he considered this. "Do you think I can reveal who Requiem is soon?"
Shawn nodded slowly. "We can. I wouldn't recommend tomorrow, but soon. Do you really dislike it?"
Miles sighed. "I always wore the mask to avoid the publicity and the Andersons. I told myself it was to keep my anonymity and freedom. I can't explain what changed, except the mask has become heavier and no longer holds the liberty it once did. It feels that I am hiding, and it taints my sound."
"Then we remove the mask. Scott has some ideas for a reveal, so we consult him to create a plan."
These words made Mile's entire body relax. The pressure of making countless decisions for his business was no longer his Miles' responsibility. Albums, tours, legalities, and the PR bullshit were now for Aura to worry about. He wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously because the first time he could remember, he could just make music.
He had always loved music. It was a gift his mother had given him. But he had to use his passion to make money at an early age to help her. Then, he had to use music to pay off the medical debts. When he made a name for himself, he had to smother his music to create and manage Dirge.
Perhaps that's why the mask no longer held the same appeal. The mask represents his struggle. His love for music was muted by his need to survive.
But this was no longer the case. He could let go of the shackles for the first time because he had someone standing by his side. He had someone to share the burden. For the first time, he was free.
He was free to create what he truly enjoyed without concerning himself with the end result. Instead of calculating profits, he could perform out of pure joy. Music was at his fingertips, and he could simply revel in it.
"Thank you," Miles whispered. "I've never had someone to rely on like this before."
"I will always support you."
As much as they wanted to relax in bed all day, the incoming phone calls wouldn't let them. Miles had texted his close friends and Shawn's parents but had ignored everything else.
Shawn had let him escape to his basement studio, where he focused strictly on music. He didn't register Shawn walking in and out of the room or his DJs checking in on him. He never stopped, moving between practicing and perfecting a playlist for his next show.
He had promised Eve he would perform for New Year's at The Apple. It was their largest event, and he did not want to disappoint. She had suggested he take time away, and they could use someone else, but Miles needed the distraction. Even Shawn agreed it was a good idea to help keep some normalcy in his life.
When he felt Shawn press against his back and kiss his neck, he smiled and took off his headphones.
"Please tell me you're planning to give me more of that," Miles murmured.
"Later. I promise," Shawn said with a wistful chuckle. "Your interview just aired."
Miles took a deep breath, grateful that Shawn let him work on music while it went live. He couldn't bring himself to watch it. "How was it?"
"It was exactly as I expected—perfect."
Miles rolled his eyes. "Doubtful."
Shawn nipped the shell of his ear and held him tighter. "Seriously. You were gorgeous and charming but vulnerable in the right ways. You explained your story and captivated everyone who watched."
"Are you sure you're not exaggerating?"
"You have such little faith in yourself," Shawn chided. "Because we haven't announced the merger between Aura and Dirge, Danny is handling a flood of requests to interview or work with you. There's already a notable change in the media and social presence. Things are going our way."
"Anything unexpected happen?"
Shawn pulled Miles over to a chair and had him sit down. "You were careful not to name Larry or the Andersons; however, his relationship with you was leaked."
Miles bit his lip. "Well, I suppose we expected that."
"The news is shifting a little. One part is looking at the Andersons. Reporters are now digging into their newly failed business."
Miles chuckled. "So it's been revealed that they've lost the company?"
"Amongst other things. His finances were not as lucrative as I initially believed. They have sold a few properties already," Shawn explained. "I have been expecting him to reach out to you."
"I've blocked all of their numbers long ago. I also doubt their pride would let them contact me for help."
Shawn interlaced his fingers with Miles. "So they fall."
"Yeah," Miles smiled. "I do not wish for others' misfortune often, but the Andersons really didn't help themselves in this matter."
"They receive what is owed," Shawn said. "This is something that pertains to Brian as well."
Miles nodded thoughtfully. "You said that the Andersons were one part of the news shifting. What is the other part?"
"Ah." Shawn flushed and avoided eye contact. "Felix kept the portion of the interview when you talked about your partner."
Miles laughed. "Are they wondering who I'm with? Is it not obvious?"
Shawn looked hesitant. "The public hasn't seen us together that often, so it wasn't that obvious before. However, some who attended the Andersons' Christmas Eve party took pictures of us holding hands."
Miles smiled. "There was a time when I worried about my past coming to light if our relationship was revealed. I knew how brutal the media could be with my experiences, which dug up old wounds and could have hindered you. But everything weighing me down has been aired out with this interview. My fears have been quelled."
He leaned forward and lightly kissed Shawn's lips. "My past wasn't pretty, but it's mine nonetheless. My scars tell my story, just like my tattoos. Perhaps I needed to be pushed to understand that. I'm proud of where I came from... and I'm proud to be with you. Let the world know."
Shawn, still kneeling, wrapped his arms around Miles' waist and hugged him. "Then we'll do just that."
Miles tangled his fingers in Shawn's hair. "Felix mentioned interviews and such. Do we have to do any of that?"
"We'll discuss interviews later. I'm not keen on jumping into those right away."
"Would we be okay going on a date?" Miles asked.
Shawn chuckled. "Absolutely—if you don't mind that there may be paparazzi. What do you have in mind?"
"Well, I have a New Year's Eve show at The Apple. We can arrive together," Miles suggested.
"Alright," Shawn whispered with a smile.
Neither man doubted the outcome of their decision. They trusted what they had together, and nothing could damper it.
Shawn and Miles primarily stayed inside their home for the next few days. They only left to bring more of Shawn's possessions over. However, New Year's Eve came sooner than expected.
Eve had already called him hours before his set, astounded by the line outside The Apple's doors. She declared it would be their biggest night ever, and it was thanks to Requiem's music and Miles' name.
The thought was nearly foreign to him. He had never considered the name 'Miles Mendez' to bring anything to the table.
He buttoned his black dress shirt as Shawn walked into their bedroom. He was already dressed in his usual suit and was on the phone. Since their relationship was leaked, he had taken more phone calls to appease the media. Miles could tell that it was draining, but Shawn had never complained. Instead, there was pride in his voice every time he mentioned Miles.
"You look amazing," Shawn said. "Is that what you're wearing on stage?"
Miles shook his head with a laugh and then pointed to the messenger bag on the bed. "My spare clothes are there. I would be boiling on stage in this outfit with the light show I'm planning."
"You've been planning this night for a while?"
Miles nodded. "Because of the funk I was in, I felt I've given my shows the bare minimum: decent lights, good hype, and clean cuts. But lately, I've been inspired to give more of myself to the music and performance. I want to set the bar even higher."
"You seem to be your toughest critic."
"I am. I have always loved music and want to push it to the next level. I just haven't had the motivation to," Miles said thoughtfully. "Do you know what inspired me to touch the turntables for the very first time?"
"No," Shawn responded fondly, drinking in every word.
"Most people would think I would bring up Jazzy Jeff or Grandmaster Flash, but my inspiration came from the movie Juice." Miles laughed to himself. "When I first watched that movie, I was excited to see something that portrayed the life I was familiar with—a group of kids struggling to survive. But what I kept going back to was a DJ battle scene. Something about it captivated me. From there, I started learning as much as possible about turntablism until I could buy my first setup."
"All of this from one scene from a movie?"
"Imagine that," Miles said wistfully. "I doubt any of the actors thought they would be the turning point in some broken-down kid's life, but they were. Now, I'm living in a world where I can do what I love every single day. I can create, and hopefully, I can inspire someone else's turning point."
Shawn cupped his cheeks. "You already have—and not just with your music."
Miles smiled brightly. "Then how can I be complacent? Imagine the amazing things we can do if we all set the bar a little higher?"
Shawn kissed him lightly. "As long as you don't burn yourself out in the process."
"With Aura handling things, there's no way I could."
Miles had always entered The Apple through the backdoor to avoid the crowds. It was one of his strategies to hide his identity, but he didn't need to this time. He and Shawn approached the front doors, hand in hand.
Lights from the paparazzi's cameras nearly blinded Miles, but Shawn didn't let go of him. Miles was tense with the amount of people shouting questions toward him, and his hand tightened around Shawn's. Shawn leaned toward him, "Just smile and ignore them."
"Easier said than done," Miles mumbled, but he still tried to force a smile and give a polite nod to the surrounding crowd.
Shawn effortlessly steered them through the crowd until they reached the VIP door. Miles was greeted by Eve, who pulled him into a tight hug.
"Oh, Miles," she said emotionally. "You doing okay with all this?"
Miles nodded. "I somewhat expected this. Figured I should get used to it."
She pulled away from the hug and sighed. "Good for you. But these reporters better not try anything to hurt you again. You're a good man, Miles Mendez, and we'll go to war for you."
Miles grinned and patted her shoulder. "I know."
She gave a resolute nod. "Good. Now go get your ass back there and make me more money."
Miles laughed and gave her a parting hug before leading Shawn to the back room to get ready for his set.
Miles tossed his bag on the couch and started to pull at his shirt's buttons. With a coy smile, Shawn caught his hands and unbuttoned his shirt. As he slipped it off Miles' shoulders, he leaned forward and kissed his neck.
"If you continue this, I may not make it to my set," Miles groaned.
"How angry would Eve be?" Shawn asked between kisses.
"Homicidal."
Shawn sighed and rested his head on Miles' shoulder. "It's a difficult decision to make. But I suppose I want to live a little longer. I'll have more opportunities to undress you later."
He stepped back, letting his eyes wander over Miles' body, and then fell back onto the couch.
Miles chuckled. "You better keep your word."
Shawn groaned again as Miles removed his slacks and exchanged them for tight jeans. He winked at Shawn, pulled a mesh top over his head, and adjusted it. The last thing he grabbed from his bag was his mask. His fingers ran over the familiar face.
"You won't have to wear it much longer," Shawn said gently.
"I know. One day, it will become a memory. But I'm content wearing it tonight." He leaned over Shawn and kissed him. "Will you watch from the VIP section?"
Shawn nodded. "Yes. I'll be back here when you're done so we can slip away for the night."
"I'm already looking forward to it."  Miles walked to the door leading to the stage and pulled on his mask. "See you soon."
A curtain obscured the stage, but Miles could still feel the energy from the crowd vibrating around him. Their cheers and chatter were loud enough to match the club's music. He could even hear people calling out for Requiem.
He grinned under his mask, feeling a renewed energy. He hadn't released any new mixes or songs in a while and wanted to show this audience his current progress. He wanted them to see his inspiration.
His hands moved out of habit, checking everything from his playlist to his samples and sound levels. When he confirmed everything was set up to his liking, he turned on the LEDs of his mask and gave the stage manager a thumbs up.
Fog flooded the stage, and the laser lights flickered through the distorted air.
"I am DJ Requiem," he said into the mic and then dropped his first beat.
The screams from the crowd were deafening, and their energy was enough to make him feel intoxicated.
As his fingers flicked the crossfader and his hand pushed the record, he entranced the people around him. He lured them with a high-paced mix, letting the club boil over with energy. He watched everyone dancing to his music through the fog.
He transitioned through his playlist, never letting them become bored. He felt the thrill of anticipation as he dropped out the sound of his current song, so all that was left was a familiar beat—Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
The lights around him turned dark red and pulsed with the beat, accentuating the moment.
Miles dragged his eyes over to the VIP section. He couldn't see Shawn but was comforted knowing he was there.
After the eighth beat, he released his record and opened his crossfader in a fluid motion, bringing in a new melody that weaved around the heartbeat.
With a slight chuckle, he brought in a hard-hitting bassline, and the lights flashed with the change. For a moment, the air was sucked out of the club but then reverberated with the cheers from his audience.
He closed his eyes, relishing in the moment. This was what made performances worthwhile—the hype and exhilaration.
Miles performed late through the night, only pausing for the countdown to the New Year. Miles continued the celebration with a new song when the New Year dawned.
In the last couple of years, he would feel deep exhaustion when he was closing a set. But this performance did the opposite. As he echoed out his last song, he felt rejuvenated, as if he was 21 once more. He wanted to run to his studio to create more.
He waved to the crowd and exited the stage and to his break room. When he entered, he pulled off his mask, the smile never leaving his face.
Movement in his peripheral made him falter, and he jerked his gaze toward that direction. He felt his blood run cold as he saw Larry and Will standing in the corner of his room.
Miles' hand clenched around his mask as he spat out, "Motherfucker."