Finding My Way (Beaumont 4)

“How?”

She laughs and waves her hands in the air. “I’m rich, Liam. So fucking rich, yet I can’t have the one thing I want out of life and that’s love. I’m in love with you and at one time you were in love with me, but then you stopped. I can’t even buy your love because you’re so fucking hung up on someone who doesn’t want you. I’M RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF YOU. And you ignore me. I made you.” She stalks toward me and pushes me with both her hands. “I made you, Liam, not her. All of this is because of me and you can’t do something as simple as love me back, yet you pine away for that brunette like she’s your dying breath. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

I want to tell her she’s wrong, but she’s not. She discovered me and maybe if I had waited to see if anyone else wanted me things might be different, but they’re not. I chose Sam and everything that came with her and now I’m paying the price now. I’ve been gone far too long to pick up the telephone now and call. I don’t know if Sam’s been to Beaumont or not and frankly I’m too afraid to know.

“How?” I ask again.

“Private investigator. After that night on the bus when you told me she’s someone I’d never be, I had to find out who my competition was. It wasn’t hard once I went through your grandmother’s stuff and found out who your mom was.”

“You bitch.” There’s no force behind my words. I’m stunned, hurt and breaking piece by piece on the inside. She invaded my life – the one I needed to leave behind to do this.

Sam smirks and laughs. “Yeah I’m the bitch. I fucked you and pushed you aside. I told you I would try at a relationship and bailed at the first sign of trouble.”

“So what?” I yell. “So fucking what? That gives you the right to invade my life? There’s a reason why I didn’t want you to know about who I was before I moved here. That life doesn’t define me.”

“But it does.”

I shake my head. “That’s where you’re wrong Sam. I left everything behind to be here. I ruined everything because I had this dream and someone in my family was willing to stand by me while I pursued it. My life there is none of your Goddamn business.”

“I’m your manager - everything’s my business, including the barflies you bring home nightly. Your past indiscretions? I’m the one who cleans up after them. I pay Jorge to make sure they get home safely. You dismiss them like trash.” She’s pointing at herself. There’s a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. This is the first time we’ve fought like this and it’s scaring the shit out of me. This is why we aren’t good for each other.

“They’re one night stands, Sam. You drove me to them.” I scream out, holding my head, bent at my waist. It all makes sense now.

The perfume.

Dying her hair.

She’s trying to be Josie to get my attention.

“Get on the plane, Liam. I’m not telling you again.”

I shake my head. “It’s not happening.”

“If you don’t, it’s a violation of your contract. I’ll terminate you for insubordination.” Right now I think it’d be worth it.

I nod and look her square in the eyes. “Fine, but I’ll be meeting with your father in the morning and telling him everything. I’ll tell him about all the late night phone calls. About all the times you’ve crawled into my bed when I’ve told you over and over again that I don’t want to be with you. I’ll tell him how you supplied all my alcohol when I was underage. How you took advantage of me on the bus that night. Two can play this game, Sam, and you may be his daughter, but right now he’s sitting pretty with the royalties that this band is bringing in. The wall of fame is looking pretty fresh with the Grammy’s we’ve won. You didn’t win those. You didn’t write those songs. I did. So while you think you’ve done so much for me, take a long hard look at what we’ve done for Moreno Entertainment.

“I’m on vacation, Sam. This is the week that I’ve taken every year since my grandma died. You know that, so why you decided to schedule an interview during this week is beyond me, but I won’t be going. You can either let the show know that you’ve made a mistake or tell them I’m ill, but I’m not leaving.”

“You’d leave if she called you,” her voice is quiet, broken. I try not to show that her statement gets to me, but I can see it in her face. She knows.

“That would never happen.”

I leave her in the studio to figure her shit out. I don’t know if we’ll have a manager tomorrow or not, but I’m not going to let her strong arm me into something I’m not comfortable doing.

As soon as my feet hit the sidewalk I’m taking ten steps and walking into the bar that’s adjacent to the studio.

“What can I get ya?” the bartender places a bowl of nuts in front of me after he wipes down the bar.

“Whiskey, straight.”

“Tough day?”

I nod as I grab a handful of nuts and toss them into my mouth. He sets the whiskey down in front of me. The dark amber liquid mocks me. It’s been years since I’ve tasted the burn. I move the glass back and forth, watching the booze slosh around.

I wish I could close my eyes and go back to the night that I stood at her dorm room door. I wish I‘d let her pull me in so I could feel her in my arms one more time. Things would be different, but I’d be with her or we’d be in the same town. I could be admiring her from afar or even hold her at night. But I’m here in Los Angeles like I wanted to be, living a life that I thought I wanted. If eighteen year old me could ask twenty-three year old me what his life would be like, I’d tell him to stay in college.

Life is not what I thought it would be. I’m cynical. I prefer to be alone most of the time until someone steps in front me and I think they can numb my pain long enough that I can function properly. The dullness only lasts until sunrise and then I have to start all over again. The same routine day in and day out. Nothing changes until I’m on tour and that routine is just as bad.