Beats of the Heart - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Miles found that the trio of teenagers had brought more laughter and life to his home as Halloween approached. Although they were there often, their visits had somehow increased.
However, part of their visits included pestering him to meet new people. They grumbled about how he was always alone and only focused on work. Somehow, he was bullied by three 18-year-old kids to accept a date.
Now he sat in a restaurant that was far too expensive for a first date. Miles had to refrain from flinching when he realized the menu had no listed prices. He was doing well financially and splurged when he wished to, but he was always frugal with food. Why go to an expensive restaurant when you can cook a meal?
Or they could go to a place with a friendlier budget. Go to a diner that encourages fun and conversation, or they could binge on food trucks while walking around a park.
Basically, Miles hated any reason that forced him to get dressed up.
Eve had jested that Miles was bad at being rich. But after 20-plus years of struggling, it was hard to change. He almost had an anxiety attack when he finally purchased his townhouse. He had buyer's remorse when he upgraded his equipment. He tried to return his first motorcycle, but Eve laid into him about spoiling himself.
Nevertheless, he was in this exorbitant restaurant wearing extremely uncomfortable clothes. His shoes were too stiff. His slacks were too tight. The button-down shirt was stiff around the neck. The worst thing was the tie. Why did he have to wear a tie? He felt like he was collared and leashed.
Miles was convinced that a suit and tie was a sad imitation of BDSM.
However, the man sitting across the table from him was more accustomed to this. He seemed to be born in a suit. He sat confidently in his chair, lightly holding the glass of red wine as he ordered his meal. He had no realistic expectations for this date, but he had to admit that his date was good-looking.
He was a friend of a friend of a friend... something along those lines. He happened to see Miles at The Apple and inquired about meeting him. Several phone calls later, Miles learned his name was Brady and reluctantly agreed to meet him.
Although Miles was reluctant, the smile Brady flashed him relaxed him.
"So you are a co-owner of The Apple?" Brady asked. Although handsome, his voice was monotone—little to no fluctuation and hardly any timbre. For someone who enjoys music so much, a person's voice was essential to Miles. He wanted someone who could inspire him to make music based on their conversations, the sounds he makes when he laughs, or how he moans his name.
But who was he kidding? He wasn't here for inspiration, a relationship, or even a fuck. He just wanted to get three annoying people off his back. So, he pushed past the 'dead inside' voice and endured.
Miles smiled. "That's right. It's been running steady for 6 or 7 years now."
"And you haven't thought about expanding?"
Miles felt his hands clenched under the table. "One club is more than enough."
Brady gave Miles another one of his smiles. "I am embarrassed to admit I'm a regular at The Apple. It's a great place, and I believe there is a lot of potential."
"I appreciate that. However, I'm not a club owner by nature. That's only my side hustle." Miles shrugged.
Miles picked up the glass of wine. He looked at the red liquid and was slightly intimidated by the smell. He was used to whiskeys and bourbons, nothing dry like this merlot. Miles sipped it and regretted it immediately. He placed the glass down promptly.
"So, what else do you do for a living?" His date asked.
This always seemed to be a prerequisite of dates—figure out how financially stable your partner is while feigning interest. Miles wanted to be offended, but instead, he kept a smile on his face. Perhaps he was being too judgemental, and Brady was truly interested.
"I work in the music industry," Miles answered noncommittally.
Brady nodded, but there was a small purse to his lips. "Do you work with artists or music directly?"
Miles caught the look and bit back a smartass remark. At least Brady had the courtesy to ask a follow-up question. "A little of both, but nothing major. It's a small company and pays the bills."
Brady smiled a little. "I've taken on the yawn-inducing business of real estate."
Miles couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping. "I'm sure it's not that terrible. In this city, there's a lot of potential and growth in the market."
He tried to take another drink from the wine but hastily put it down.
Brady's smile fell. "I'm sorry. I wanted to pair something with the meal, but I guess the merlot is not to your liking."
Miles braved a smile. "No, I'm just picky, I suppose. I tend to like whiskey over wine."
"All I know is wine. Perhaps you can teach me a little more about whiskey?" Brady's tone was still flat, but his eyes hinted at something more.
Miles didn't answer but changed the direction of the conversation to continue the nonsensical small talk. When their meal was almost finished, Brady momentarily excused himself, and Miles sat at the table alone, sipping his fresh glass of whiskey.
A light on the ground next to the table caught his eye. He leaned over, noticing it was a phone and realized that Brady had dropped it.
The phone was buzzing, and he saw that someone name Diana was calling. He frowned a little as the call ended, and five missed call notifications reflected on the screen. Still, it wasn't his business, and he was about to place it on the table when a string of text messages popped up. He could only read the preview of the message on the locked screen. Some trailed off, but he could gather enough information from them to understand the gist of the issue.
Diana: I can't believe you're doing this again to us...
Diana: You need to call me back now
Diana: Brady! I'm your wife and you just left for a...
Diana: Please! How do I explain this to Vincent...
Another call came in after the slew of messages, and Miles was left reeling. He waved over the waitress with a strained smile.
"I'm ready to pay," he said, handing her his card.
She nodded and quickly left to complete the transaction. He sighed and looked out the window overlooking the city covered in lights.
"Sorry about that," Brady said as he returned and sat down. However, Miles didn't turn back toward him.
Miles felt like a fool. He was furious, but he still restrained himself and decided to give the man a chance. Perhaps it was a joke or a misunderstanding. A naive thought, but everyone deserves a chance.
"You missed a couple of calls," Miles said. His voice was distant, and his smile from before was long lost.
Brady paled as he snatched up his phone from the table. "Did you look?" His voice finally found some fluctuation.
Miles raised an eyebrow. "I picked it up from the ground, so believe me, it wasn't intentional to see what was on your lock screen." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Care to explain?"
"It's not what you think."
Miles shook his head. "I need something better than that."
"Diana and I... are having trouble..." His voice tapered off.
"But still together."
"Technically."
Miles clicked his tongue in frustration. "So? What is this?" His hand waved between the two of them.
"She knows my preference leans more towards men."
"Frankly, I don't give a shit if she knows you like dick. That doesn't change anything about this situation." Miles' voice rumbled with anger.
"I deserve happiness too."
Miles laughed coldly. "Sure, but you first have to discuss this with your wife."
"She doesn't listen. She throws my kid in my face."
Fuck. And there's a kid involved.
Don't hit him. Don't hit him. Don't hit him. The mantra repeated in his head. He couldn't lose his composure over an asshole like this.
"I won't be a part of this," Miles said with a shake of his head. "Being open about your sexuality can be difficult and terrifying. But this isn't the way to go about it, Brady. You can't just sneak behind your family's back and play your unsuspecting date."
Brady turned red with anger. "Who are you to be sanctimonious?"
The server returned with the bill, and Miles took it with a small thanks. As he was signing the bill, he sighed. "Talk to your wife, Brady. That is all I can tell you."
He didn't look back as he left. He took his jacket from the front and stepped out to the city streets.
Miles wandered down the sidewalk, unaware of where he was going. He was angry and admonished himself for trying to step back into the dating world. He should remain in the realm of hookups and one-night stands. It was easier and less disappointing.
Bright lights caught his eyes, and he saw a crowd outside a club. He smiled lightly when he realized it was The Lunar. Knowing he had connections through The Apple, he went directly to the bouncer and gave him his name, who let him pass through without worrying about the line.
He weaved through the crowd and sat down at the bar. Many women and men were shouting or flirting at the bartenders, who were cordial enough to smile when needed. Mostly, they seemed to be in their element, mixing drinks with flair.
A bartender approached him. "What's your poison?"
"Dalmore Cigar Malt. Neat." Miles placed cash on the counter. "Keep them coming, please."
The bartender nodded and readied his drink.
Miles turned to the stage and watched the performing DJ. Miles closed his eyes, enjoying the beats that she was manipulating. It was something different from what he tended to lean toward, but it was hypnotic.
The sound of a glass placed next to him broke him from his reverence, and he thanked the bartender. He loosened his tie and sipped on his drink. He hummed happily when the deep smokiness hit him.
He continued to watch the DJ work through her mix. It was innovative and intelligent. Miles' fingers moved subconsciously as if he was scratching along with the beat. When the DJ transitioned to a surprising song, Miles grinned.
A new glass was set in front of him by the bartender. Miles pointed to the DJ as he placed his empty glass back on the counter. "What's her name?"
The bartender chuckled. "She goes by Discord."
"She's fucking great," Miles said. "Smart samples, great transitions, and damn... those beats snap."
The bartender smiled happily. "She's started recently here. Got a lot of attention. Some say she can rival Requiem in a few years."
Miles smiled happily. He felt no jealousy or trepidation hearing this. He would rather more DJs become famous. "That can happen."
"It's hard to compare to Requiem, who hasn't produced a new album in years." A voice next to him said.
Miles turned and saw a well-dressed man at the bar sitting on the stool next to him and drinking a cocktail.
"Perhaps, but her skills are the real deal," Miles said. "Hone it enough, and she can make magic happen."
"I think so, too," the man said as he held out his hand. "Nick."
Miles shook his hand. "Miles."
"And what brings you here to a bar alone?" Nick asked.
Miles sipped his drink and eyed the wedding ring on Nick's finger. "You're not hitting on me, right?"
Nick jolted. "What? No! I'm married!"
Miles laughed. "Well, at least there is one man who's faithful in this city."
"Christ," Nick groaned. "I just wanted to talk to someone who appreciated good music."
Miles laughed. "Perhaps I'm still recovering from my bad date. Nothing quite like your date's wife calling right before dessert."
"Oh shit."
"So, I needed some booze," Miles said, toasting his glass.
Nick waved his hand toward the bartender. "Another for my friend, on me."
"You don't have to," Miles protested.
"Believe me, I do on behalf of the faithful men in the world," Nick said with a wink.
Miles chuckled. "It's funny. This is my second time coming here. Both times, I've had a hard day. And both times, someone has bought me a drink."
"Well, I hope your night has been turned around for the better."
Miles felt smiled warmly. "It has. Perhaps I should come more often."
"As the owner, I would appreciate that."
Miles shook and looked at Nick with wide eyes. "Nick Wallace?" He recalled the name of the owner of The Lunar.
"The one and only."
Miles shook his head with a laugh. "I suppose I don't feel back about you buying me a drink anymore." He looked back at the DJ. "This works out for me because I bet you'd know if Discord has a label."
"Label? Why would you... Oh... Miles Mendez." Nick started to laugh and slapped his hand on his thigh. "I feel like an idiot for not realizing. Of course, you would be interested in a DJ when you own Dirge Records... and The Apple."
Miles took a drink from his glass, hiding his smile. "Just don't tell the other owners at The Apple that I consider being a regular of The Lunar."
"They will hear nothing from me." Nick made a motion to zip his mouth. He then nodded toward Discord. "She was signed by Aura recently."
Miles gave a wry smile. "Damn. At least she is in a good place. They'll develop her well."
"But you specialize in DJs."
"Aura has more resources than I can dream of," Miles responded. He was still smiling, but his eyes revealed some reluctance.
"Were you serious about her becoming better than Requiem?" Nick finally asked.
"Absolutely. That's the beauty of music. It's always changing and evolving, redefining the era. If Requiem remained on top, then the DJ world would stagnate. I would hate to see that. I want more DJs in the world. I want them to drive competition and passion." Miles said with a light laugh. "Those who are considered to be the greatest should be an inspiration, not a wall."
Nick watched him with a shocked expression. "Wow. No wonder you won't sell Dirge."
Miles shook his head with a smile. "No, I won't sell because of trust issues."
"Maybe—" Nick started, but another person interrupted him.
"Hey, Nick. I was hoping to ask you for a favor."
Miles felt shivers up his spine, and he quickly lowered his head. After years of declining his calls, Miles could always recognize Brian Smith's voice.
"Hey, Brian. What's happening?" Nick's voice was tight, upset that he had to interact with him.
Miles placed a few more bills on the counter and stood up. Nick seemed to notice his movement. "Oh, are you leaving? Let me walk you out." He turned back to Brian. "Sorry, but I'll be back in a bit."
Miles nodded, and they both walked toward the exit.
"Sorry about him," Nick said.
Miles sighed. "He's a pain in the ass."
Nick chuckled. "Out of all the agencies and label owners I know, I hate him the most."
They made it to the door, and Miles smiled lightly at Nick. "Thanks again for the drink and company."
They shook hands again before Miles walked out into the crisp air of the city. The date was a bust, but a new connection like Nick Wallace was nothing to scoff at.
Also, the information that Aura picked up a good DJ was intriguing. There seemed to be a future for DJs at Aura... one that could possibly welcome everyone from Dirge.