That's All She Wrote - Chapter 31
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Chapter 31: The Music Or The Misery ~ 15k
“Mr. Rocque, Kelly, please,” Roxanne pleaded, shaking fingers threaded, palms pressed together. She would’ve gotten down on her knees to beg if she, the band, and their two bosses weren’t already in the back of the limousine headed to Brand New Day’s album release party. “The Big Time Rush booking fee is for interviews and photoshoots, and- and millionaire’s birthday parties. Not for an advertising campaign for a band no one has ever heard of!”
Though she winced at her desperate tone of voice, she hoped one final appeal would make the two adults change their minds. Despite spending the last 24 hours making similar statements since Gustavo’s call at the movie theater, neither of them had budged in their decision for the band to attend the party. She’d even taken the fight all the way to Griffin’s office, sitting atop the Rocque Records building and adorned in the strangest taxidermy the assistant had ever seen, hoping that even he would think it an odd request.
Turns out that had been a mistake; Roxy had severely underestimated how much Griffin seemed to like her. America’s fourth most powerful CEO was no better than his money-hungry adversaries and deep down she knew that… She just wanted someone other than her friends to take her feelings into account just this once.
With Griffin’s word as law, and whatever Gustavo was afraid of in Obdul’s briefcase when the tall man tapped on it, the band was set to attend the gathering and adhere to Brand New Day’s request.
When Kelly sighed, shifting her gaze from the soft glow of her BlackBerry in the back of the dark limo to the writer, she just slowly shook her head. “You heard Griffin earlier, Roxy. They’re paying customers and Rocque Records has a contract to fulfil. As much as you dislike these boys-”
“These two,” The assistant automatically corrected, feeling James’ hand slide onto her shoulder as the limo turned a corner.
“These two,” Kelly continued after a brief pause, “There’s a lot of money at stake here.”
That was the same answer the talent scout had given her all day - the same corporate talk about contract fulfillment, legal obligation, and reputation. Bullshit.
“Griffin said we have to,” Gustavo added in a flat tone, red glasses matching the tint of a neon sign zooming by outside the window behind him, suggesting that he wasn’t all too thrilled with the night before them either. “So we have to. Set aside whatever crap has you all up in a twist about this party! It’s only a few hours, okay?”
With a huff, Roxy crossed her arms and pushed back into her seat, watching the endless stream of cars out the tinted window beside the man’s head. Most of the time she and Gustavo were on the same page, especially when it came to breaking down emotional barriers in the writer’s room. If he was able to help her draw out the words to place on the page when she was struggling in the past, why was he so incapable of seeing her irritation now?
“We’ll be okay, Rox!” From across the way, Carlos reached out to pat her knee, welcome warm contact on skin that felt as cold as ice. The charm from the bracelet she’d made him for Christmas jingled around his wrist. “The night will be over before you know it!”
Carlos’ optimism never ceased to amaze Roxy; She wished she could feel even a small portion of it at the present, but her confusing amalgamation of fear and anger had been busy building up in her system all day. Too much time had already been wasted worrying about Mag and Dani since they’d moved to Hollywood. Past memories playing in her head like a bad movie plagued her dreams, causing her to reach out for James in the darkness of her bedroom, only for the emptiness to creep in when she remembered a few walls separated them in 2-H and 2-J. Horrible flashes of whatever may transpire tonight took hold of her imagination when she was awake, only fueling the fire of emotions rooted in her belly.
And even that felt ridiculous because Mag and Dani were just people she used to be friends with, not the supervillains of epic proportions her mind was making them out to be. The hurt and confusion then mingled with shame for expecting the worst from them, dragging up situations in which they’d looked out for her at local gigs or sat up and listened to her complain on the phone all hours of the night while she tried to work out a new tune or melody. All the fun they’d had playing together, advertising for their band wherever they could, and drawing up big plans to hit the big time together.
Then, the cycle of emotions started anew, because if they were such great people, how could they so easily take her work and pass it off as their own? How could they be Brand New Day without her?
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Roxy tilted her head back into the hard headrest, focusing on the hum of the limo’s engine since she’d been too fatigued to pick a radio station, and took a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the emotional overload.
Beside Carlos, messing with the material of his lap belt, Kendall nodded at his friend’s words. “Just a few photos for the news outlets and some social media posts saying how much we love the new album, then we’re so far out of here everyone will forget about Brand New Day in a week.”
Though both of them knew that the last part probably wouldn't be true, Roxy wanted to believe it anyway. Internally, she cursed her past self for all the time and effort she’d put into promoting Brand New Day to friends, strangers, and whoever would listen, wishing she could take back all the wishes on shooting stars in clear Minnesota skies that one day they’d blow up and get to move out of their nothing town.
Too little, too late, the girl thought, feeling the unpleasant sting of her nails cutting into her palm as they balled into tight fists in her lap. At least we all got what we wanted in the end.
James must have noticed her discomfort; The hand on her shoulder trailed down her arm to unwind the mess she might have made of her palm with her fresh manicure.
“You also… Don’t have to come…” Logan tried to add but quickly winced when Roxy countered his comment with a nasty glare.
“Are you kidding me? I’m the only one who knows what those two are like! This is all part of their plan-”
“Roxanne.” Gustavo cut her off with a grating exhale of her name, which was probably a good thing, because as far as she knew, there was no plan. For a few seconds, the humming of the engine was the only sound heard between the seven. “Being in the entertainment industry means sometimes you have to do things you don’t like to do. Do you think I enjoy playing babysitter for the five of you? No! But if I want to stay Hollywood’s number one producer, that’s what I have to do!”
“Oh, stop it Gustavo, you flatter us too much!” Kendall gasped with a sarcastic smile in a clear attempt to ease some of the tension radiating off of his boss and assistant, which calmed Roxy only slightly. At least one of them was able to keep a level head at the present. “We all know you love us too much but simply can’t admit it - out loud or otherwise.”
Grumbling something under his breath, Gustavo turned to look at Kelly’s BlackBerry, signifying Kendall had won that part of the conversation for now.
The frontman looked over to her too, for approval or something else she wasn’t sure, but she did catch the upward quirk of his lips. Momentarily, some of the tension left her body and she finally let her head rest on her boyfriend’s shoulder. If there was one thing she could count on tonight, it was her four friends.
Like it or not, this was happening, so she might as well suck it up and be the bigger person. In public at least; The big tub of chocolate chip ice cream in her freezer and the floor of her kitchen were already calling her name no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.
Even if it wasn’t his intention, Roxy found comfort in Kendall’s subtle smirk. As good as friends Mag and Dani had been to her in the past, their bond didn’t even come close to the one she shared with the Big Time Rush boys and her new friends at the Palm Woods. So, she took it as a sign. One that screamed “We’ve got your back, Roxy! Always!” in bright, flashy colors, big enough to rival the magnitude of the Hollywood sign looking out over the city they so loved.
Maybe James had noticed it too, his hand tightening in hers before pressing a light kiss into her hair. The two savored the last bit of physical contact they’d have before the prying eyes of everyone at the party because neither of them needed to add a potential relationship exposé to the list of things that might happen that evening. “Everything will be alright, baby. I promise.”
***
Bright, blinding flashes of light escaped the cameras of the photographers lined up in front of the party venue, giving Roxy the perfect opportunity to slip out of the limousine’s right door while her friends took up the attention from the left.
Whoever had arranged this album release had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure there was mass media coverage, so the assistant figured she might as well use that fact to her advantage. No one cared about the people behind the scenes as long as celebrities were present.
The chill of the Los Angeles winter air didn’t bite as much as it did back in Minnesota and Roxy’s nose wrinkled at the bitter scent of gasoline as the limo pulled away from the curb. Folding her arms over one another did little to curb the goosebumps forming over her skin; The temperature and her onslaught of unpleasant emotions were working in tandem to make her as uncomfortable as possible.
While the boys took their time walking down the black carpet rolled outside the venue doors, it gave the writer some time to scope the place out before entering. From the outside, the building appeared somewhat run-down - chipping white paint revealing dark brown metal underneath, lights on the outer walls flickering, cracks in the sidewalk - but based on the other buildings around which were styled with the impeccable glamor of Hollywood, she figured it must have been made to give off the air of abandonment.
People from Los Angeles are so weird…
However, the venue called back memories of the ancient dives and abandoned warehouses the punks of Duluth would take over for nights at a time, constructing makeshift stages in rooms covered baseboard to ceiling in graffiti to play shows. She, Mag, and Dani had only been to a handful of gigs like that, mostly preferring to stick to the basement and small local music venue circuits, but warehouse shows had been something they’d talked about doing more before the band’s untimely breakup.
Brand New Day was already one album in and still getting to accomplish even more of the goals they’d made ages ago.
Kelly and Gustavo trailed a few feet behind the boys, showing the invitation they’d received at Rocque Records last night to the doormen, and Roxy a few feet behind them, presenting her own hand-delivered invitation. The processes seemed far too formal for her taste, considering the three of them used to crash house shows uninvited all the time.
The inside of the venue wasn’t starkly different from the outside, it still had the same general theming but was paid far more attention to. While not as large as a commercial building, it was slightly larger than the two dance studios of Rocque Records put together; There was a moderate amount of guests present. Around her, the white walls practically shone, as though they’d been scrubbed twenty times over, the wooden floor was waxed to perfection, and the high ceilings made it perfect for the chatter of the party patrons to carry appropriately while not making the space seem too packed.
If she had to wager, she’d bet Mag and Dani weren’t given creative control, like Big Time Rush wasn’t at their first album release party, and their producer had likely taken that duty on to impress investors, Galactic Records employees, and even fans.
Fans, Roxy’s mind echoed, causing an unpleasant lump to lodge itself in her throat. Eyes sweeping over the floor allowed her to spot a table filled to the brim with drinks and hors d'oeuvres, likely her next stop, a makeshift stage in the back of the venue with a dance floor cordoned off, an area with tables and chairs, and a section where a long line of teens who didn’t look much older than her and her friends were lined up. In front of the line, a small plastic table, piled high with CD jewel cases, and, of course, Mag and Dani, chatting with attendees, signing autographs, and taking pictures with each and every person in line.
It probably would have been a good idea to listen to the album before attending the party, just to know which of her private thoughts were currently being aired out in the world in the form of music, but when she’d opened up SnoobTube and saw “Heartswell Summer” on the home page, she’d slammed the device shut so fast she feared she may have shattered the screen.
When it came to Big Time Rush and their musical accolades, Roxy tended to ignore what she could. She had no idea how many of their songs had been promoted by SnoobTube, the number of streams their songs had earned, the types of rankings on Billboard charts - Except for “Til I Forget About You” which James told her almost entered the Hot 100 - or the fan favorites. Music taste was so personal and subjective, she didn’t want to learn how the public felt about her own favorite Big Time Rush songs or which ones were more popular than others.
If she were to start caring about meaningless numbers and public perception, she feared she would lose sight of the real reason she wrote songs and forgo personal art and expression for the sake of others. At their audition, she’d promised Gustavo she wasn’t interested in working for him for money or fame; That was a vow she intended to keep.
Mag and Dani on the other hand, seemed to have lost sight of that already, basking in the attention their fans were giving them at the signing table as she glanced over one final time before making her way to the refreshments.
The band and their bosses were somewhere on the other side of the venue curating the social media posts they’d been contracted to make, leaving the assistant to her own devices. Everything would be fine if her friends stayed on the opposite side and the other two stayed at the table until the performance Mag had mentioned at her door the other night.
Whatever it took for this night to end, she’d be happy with.
At the very least, whoever was catering the event had a wonderful array of delicious-looking foods on display. The smell of freshly baked bread and sweets curled around the assistant’s nose - so aromatic she envisioned herself floating over to the table like a character in a Sunday morning cartoon. Though attempting to enjoy herself this evening felt like a long shot, this was a good place to start.
From the white tablecloth, Roxy took a small plate and piled it high with as many sweet things as she could find. Even if she and her old friends didn’t have too much in common anymore, it seemed as though she’d be able to rely on their superior taste in deserts for just one night.
With a comical amount of food stacked up - Roxy told herself it was all to share with the boys because that’s what a good assistant would do - when she got to the end of the gorgeous display, she spied a brownie that she absolutely needed to have and reached for it.
“Roxanne?” someone asked from behind her, and the writer slowly around, feeling like she’d been caught in the middle of something she shouldn’t have been doing. “I see you haven’t changed one bit!”
Eyes landing on the teenager in front of her, the fake smile Roxy’d been forcing all night slowly loosened into a real one. “Sydnee?”
The bright purple blush on Sydnee’s cheeks stood out against the brown rose of her cheeks, just as colorful as the rest of her outfit. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”
Neither was Roxy, admittedly, but why wouldn’t Dani’s girlfriend fly out for her partner’s album release party?
Though the chuckle she let out was humorless, the assistant set her plate down and wrapped the far taller girl into a hug. Despite her issues with her old band, that was no reason to hold a grudge against those who had fallen out of her life because of it. She just wished she’d realized she might have to see others from her past at the party before running into them. “I was in the area. And the band I work for got an invite, so…”
Sydnee squeezed her back with such intensity Roxy feared one of her ribs might crack. “Now that I think about it, Dani mentioned you were staying in the same hotel! So, what? Got your big break after leaving the band? Have I heard any of your stuff on the radio?”
The question wasn’t meant to be condescending, and nothing in Sydnee’s tone made it sound that way, but Roxy was just the right mix of anxious and stressed to take it as such. Thanking the musical gods Sydnee didn’t ask her why she left the band, she took a breath and answered.
“Not on any of the stations you listen to,” Smile faltering, she referred to Sydnee’s love of reggaeton. “Daddy Yankee and I don’t run in the same circles.”
As if it were the funniest joke in the world, the other girl tilted her beautiful features back, a handful of long, lilac-beaded braids falling over her shoulders as they shook. “Come on! You know I’m all about Today’s Top 40 when those two fools aren’t around.”
Thumb jerking in the direction of the signing table, the euphoria of seeing an old friend was virtually eliminated when Roxy remembered the real reason she was there. The both of them still had a huge line of fans to get through; Currently engaged with a pair of teenage girls at the signing table.
“My fools are over there,” She shared, pointing in the opposite direction of the party space, where James, Kendall, Carlos, and Logan were all posing for a photo Kelly was taking, each one of them holding a copy of the album Barely Hanging On.
Even the title of the album had been ripped right from the pages of her book.
Stone brown eyes following her finger, Sydnee’s eyes widened.
Inadvertently, Roxy held her breath, waiting for the usual reaction she’d get when offhandedly mentioning she worked for Big Time Rush to the new, young Palm Woods residents, but it never came.
“No way! A three-piece band to a five-piece? You must finally have a bass player!”
More than once, Sydnee had made fun of her partner and friends back in Minnesota for their startling lack of a bassist. The jokes about them “almost being a real band” used to bother Roxy quite a bit, but these days, it certainly didn’t matter to her anymore.
Hands drawing around her waist, Roxy found herself looking down at the linoleum tile. “It’s just the four of them, actually. Having a girl around kind of defeats the entire purpose of a boy band. My role is more behind the scenes, writing, producing, assisting… But I’m part of the touring band!”
“Oh… A boy band? Wow…” Sydnee’s eyes flickered, dimples disappearing momentarily before she drew up another smile just as quickly. “That must be fun. I’m happy for you, Roxy.”
Just as the girl opened her mouth to thank her friend, she continued.
“It’s just disappointing knowing I won’t see you, Mag, and Dani rocking out like I used to. Hard to believe you’d give up your own band for some assistant job.”
A slap to the face might have been nicer than the insinuation that Roxy was a sell-out. The look on her face must have communicated her emotions, despite the daze swirling around her brain, as Sydnee’s brows shot up, hands flying out in front of her and waving wildly as she cried, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that in a bad way!”
I knew coming to this thing was a bad idea.
Sour taste entering her mouth, the assistant nearly gagged on her own spit as she tried to come up with something to say back - an excuse to end the conversation, some fake pleasantries, a question about the weather, anything - until Logan called her name from behind her.
In an instant, the boys who had been busy creating their contracted advertisement swarmed around her; Carlos picking up the plate she’d left on the table and munching on one of the gigantic chocolate cookies she’d been stacking up before getting roped into the conversation with Sydnee.
Their first meeting had been at a party too, Roxy recalled, back during their freshman year. While Mag and Dani weren’t party people, the third of their trio was, and she’d been invited by one of the junior varsity cheerleaders in her English class to a kickback after the first football game of the season. Too afraid to go alone, she asked the other two to come as well.
Mag had agreed to attend at Roxy’s promise it would be good to scope out which of the people at their high school might be interested in coming to one of their shows and Dani had agreed if they could bring their partner. So, introduced for the first time in the cheerleader’s crowded living room, the two girls danced the night away while the other two kept to themselves in the kitchen.
While they certainly weren’t best friends, they were always friendly with each other, or so Roxy had thought, until Sydnee’s backhanded statement moments ago.
“Hey!” Carlos greeted, sweet as ever, while some crumbs trailed down his front. Turning to his assistant, he questioned, “Who’s this?”
Now outnumbered, Sydnee shot Roxy a sympathetic smile, sorry for how her words had come out. Regardless, Roxy brushed it off like usual, but the comment only added to her emotional pile-up. Tonight wasn’t about starting fights; Big Time Rush was collecting a check and getting out as quickly and painlessly as they could.
“Boys, this is Sydnee Vélez, an old friend,” Pausing for emphasis on that last word, Roxy smiled so hard her cheeks began to ache. “She and Dani have been together, for, like, ever. Isn’t it sweet she flew all the way from Duluth to support them tonight?”
One by one, they introduced themselves to the newcomer, more than happy to make a new acquaintance.
From there, the boys were able to carry on the conversation as they moved to the seating area, and Roxy was able to zone out and take stock of the venue now that the party guests were starting to settle in. The line at the signing table had finally died down, Mag and Dani still sitting behind the black tablecloth as they talked about whatever, laughter carrying across the hall. Most of the fans were lingering around the roped-off dance floor in front of the stage, hoping to be as close to the barricade as possible for Brand New Day’s first performance post-album release.
Gustavo and Kelly were socializing over at the tables set up by the refreshments, presumably networking with Galactic Record’s finest songwriters and producers though Roxy knew that they’d likely never speak again after this party ended…
A pair of adult men who looked suspiciously like the Madden brothers walked in front of her, blocking her view of her bosses.
Ugh…
A bit beyond them, she noticed Mr. and Mrs. Huron, sitting together at one of the smaller tables, beaming with pride. Dani’s features looked almost exactly like their parents; Sharing the same long, straight brown hair, brilliant green eyes, and ochre complexion. The two of them were locked in conversation with Ms. McAllister, who wore a similar expression on her pale, sunken face. Unlike the Hurons, Mag and his mother were almost physical polar opposites, her wavy, straw-blonde hair didn’t come close to matching Dani’s midnight black curls, nor did his round cheeks compare to the hollowness of his mother’s.
Between the two women, Mr. Huron was doing his best to translate their conversation into sign language for his wife and spoken word for Ms. McAllister.
Though none of the three adults had been thrilled at the band’s beginning, apparently it had finally paid off enough for them to show some support for their children’s careers. Roxy remembered long conversations with her friends, the two of them complaining about how their parents had forced them to aim for “realistic” aspirations, like Mag’s mother signing him up for an internship at the healthcare company she worked for, or how the Hurons had practically forbade Dani from playing shows toward the beginning of the band’s timeline.
All things that, to the writer, seemed entirely ridiculous. Why allow your child to cultivate such an impressive musical skill and then try to clip their wings the moment they decide to pursue that instead of something conventional?
That’s exactly what her grandparents had done to her father; There’s a reason he hadn’t spoken to either of them in seventeen years.
As much as Roxy couldn’t stand the two, no one could deny that Dani was an incredible, dedicated musician. There was hardly a time they were seen without drumsticks in their hands. They used to drive teachers crazy with their relentless tapping on desks while they lectured.
Mag’s effortless skill on the guitar while wowing the crowd with his fine-tuned and captivating voice was no small feat either. Like the boys in Big Time Rush, he was a natural-born performer, craving the spotlight more than anything else in the world.
The two of them were beyond talented; While they were all still friends it was hard to stand by and watch their parents try to convince them otherwise.
Should I go say hi? The girl contemplated, turning to see her friends laughing at something Sydnee had said, before remembering the last time she’d seen the Hurons they’d busted the three of them for having a gig in their basement when they thought they’d be going away for the weekend. Ms. McAllister wasn’t her biggest fan either; Roxy had driven one too many needles into her son’s ears, lips, and nose to think she was a good influence on her “sweet boy.”
Absentmindedly, her fingers rose to fiddle with her earrings, thinking of the piercings he’d given her in return. Then, she wondered if Mag or Dani had thought to send her father an invite to the party.
Of all their parents, he’d been the one to foster their creative talent - Driving them to shows, helping them load and unload gear, and giving his input when necessary. Should there be anyone Brand New Day needed to thank for getting off the ground and breaking into the industry, it was Declan Somerset.
Roxy blinked, figuring she should call her dad and tell him how much she loved him when this whole ordeal was over.
“Psst,” Someone whispered from behind her, saving her from a stroll farther down memory lane. God forbid she start to remember the good times she’d had with her old friends.
When she turned, Roxy found herself face to face with Carlos, still holding the plate he’d picked up from her earlier. Contagious grin reaching out to her, he shared, “One video of the live performance and a video with the band afterward and we’re out of here.”
“Oddly specific contract requirements but, that’s good.” The girl wasn’t able to say much beyond what she needed to. “Hopefully they’ll finish the…”
Line of sight reaching the signing table, the writer noticed the line had dissipated and Mag and Dani were nowhere to be seen. All of the fans were beginning to crowd around the stage now that they were allowed on the dance floor, pushing and shoving at one another to try and be on the barricade line and have the best view of Brand New Day’s performance of their first album.
Carlos followed her gaze. “Oh, yeah! Sydnee said they’re going to start up soon - Apparently, Dani is very good on the drums. She’s excited to see the energy they’ll bring tonight.”
“They’re one of the best…” Roxy swallowed the rest of her compliment.
“Why don’t you come and join us until then?” He suggested, pushing the plate in the direction of the rest of the band; Logan appeared to be in the middle of recounting a story, arms waving wildly as he spoke. In return, Sydnee gasped, covering her mouth with her palm. That was when James and Kendall jumped in, attempting to speak over each other to recount the next part of their tale. “When they’re done she said she’d tell us all about you before we met!”
Internally, the assistant cringed, wanting to cause any sort of distraction to keep that from happening. Maybe I’m strong enough to pull the tablecloth out from under the food…?
Instead, Roxy just shook her head at his comment, racking her brain for any kind of excuse to get her out of talking to Sydnee again. “I think I’m going to use the restroom actually… Look out for James for me, would you?”
Taking a bite of one of the iced brownies, the boy in front of her nodded, “Sure thing, Rox. Holler if you need anything.”
Just as she went to turn away from him, she noticed James trying to get her attention from where he stood a few feet away.
Hi! His wave indicated, before he tried to beckon her back over with the curling of few fingers.
No thanks! She willed back, taking a slow blink before pointing her thumb to the side, attempting to share, Be right back.
Chin jutting out, she watched as his eyes flickered back to Sydnee, still showing interest in their conversation, before he placed his palm to his mouth and blew his girlfriend a kiss. See you soon.
Of course you will, I can’t stay away from you. Roxy thought, unsure of how to convey that beyond pretending to catch the imaginary kiss and place it on her cheek.
Now flushed pink, she planted herself on the edge wall of the venue and followed it until she came upon a small hallway with the icon of a man and a woman hanging from a sign above the entry and decided that was good enough.
As long as she could hang out away from the crowd for a little while, she figured she’d be able to coast through the rest of the night incident-free. No Sydnee, no Mag and Dani, no parents - Just her and her head, racing at approximately a thousand miles per minute.
Maybe Logan was right, she silently concluded, finding herself in front of the washroom mirror. Dark bags were setting in under her eyes. A cooling splash of water from the sink to her face would’ve done wonders to calm her down, but it would come with the price of ruining the makeup she’d spent an hour trying to perfect. I don’t need to be here.
Too much time had been spent worrying about others in the hours leading up to this party; Just the thought of the boys and Brand New Day interacting tonight was able to launch her into a tailspin. In all that time, she hadn’t even thought to step back and judge how her attendance would take a toll on her as well.
But the night’s almost over, she reminded herself, and on the way home, you can convince James to call out of work tomorrow and go on an adventure.
Yeah. That sounded nice. Deserved.
And that was enough to calm her pounding heart, watching her chest start to rise and fall normally under the burnt sienna of her halter top in the reflection.
You will get through this. You always do.
Roxy ran a few fingers through her hair, smoothing it down at the part before taking both her hands and poofing it up, running her nails lightly back and forth across her scalp - Shaking out the negative thoughts and feelings stirring around up there.
Now, her goal as she made her way out of the restroom and back over to her friends was to avoid anything else that might ruin her newfound good mood, as she pulled out her phone and googled “Most romantic things to do in Los Angeles” to pitch some ideas to James.
If she’d waited even a second longer before burying her nose and weaving through the mass of people in front of her, she would’ve caught sight of the untapped cable that had been laid to the stage directly in the middle of her path back to her friends.
Without warning, the toe of her ankle boots slipped under the thick wire and as she mindlessly scrolled the webpage she found it caught. Cable growing taught, it completely restricted her movement.
Stomach lurching as she began to hurtle forward, Roxy let out an involuntary yelp, one hand clutching her phone while the other flailed helplessly as she went down, down, down… Right into the chest of the person standing on the path in front of her.
Calloused fingers dug into her upper arm to steady her while her cheek landed on the leather lapel of a jacket adorned with dozens of buttons and pins.
PROUDLY SERVING MY CORPORATE MASTERS read the white text on a blue background, encased in a small circular button right in her line of sight and Roxy let out a string of curses, scrambling to pick herself up and shove the person off her as quickly as possible.
When she’d found that button at a thrift store in Duluth, she’d thought it a funny gift, but now, pinned to Mag’s jacket at his first album release party under one of America’s largest record labels, she felt as though the satirical element might have been lost on him.
“Wow, now that’s one way to say ‘thank you,’” The boy joked, cracking an award-winning smile down at his former bandmate. “But I’m glad we ran into each other, actually-”
“I was just leaving,” Roxy cut him off, pointing vaguely at the space behind him. Eyes trailing to the side of him, she couldn’t even bear to look up at the singer as they spoke. “My friends are back there, somewhere.”
The sooner this conversation was over, the better.
Shaking out his fingers before crossing his arms, Mag let out a small hum barely discernable over the chatter of the crowd surrounding them. “Glad they got our invitation too! Of course, it wasn’t quite like yours… But it’s nice to see all of you showing up to support us. Did you get a chance to pick up a copy of the album yet?”
“No sense in wasting twenty bucks on a CD I won’t use.” Channeling her best inner Dani impression, she let out what she hoped came off as an unbothered scoff.
As the girl took a step forward, trying to signal the end of the conversation, Mag took a step back. “Just hang on a second! I’ve got one here…” His hands fell from his chest and patted down his pockets with a few soft thuds. “Somewhere…”
Out of his inner jacket pocket, he produced the jewel case containing Barely Hanging On and extended it out to her. The cover featured a photoshopped image of the two of them, cartoonish expressions of horror on their faces as they pretended to hold onto the top of the H in the Hollywood sign.
As he requested, Roxy reluctantly took the CD, hoping he couldn’t see the way her hands had worked up a slight tremor. Assuming that was all, she once more tried to continue on her way.
“Hang on! Check the booklet, Rox. I left a little surprise for you in there.”
The use of her nickname sent a sheen of sweat unpleasantly rolling down her back; He’d lost the right to call her that long ago and no matter how many times she kept reminding him, he just couldn’t seem to remember. That in combination with whatever he thought to point out as surprise-worthy and the girl was beginning to grow queasy as well. “I’ll find out later. Excuse me.”
On her third attempt to maneuver around the boy in front of her, she made the mistake of glancing his way and finding the unyielding attention of his bright blue eyes, vast and endless. The kind of fixating gaze someone would love to get lost in.
I can’t believe that used to work on me, she chastised her past self, cringing at how she’d misinterpreted their friendship and built it up to be far more inside her head. A year and a half ago, she’d be clamoring for any crumb of attention he could give her, and now it was as easy blowing him off as it was to breathe. Life’s funny like that…
“Please?” Mag inquired, a few of his black curls sweeping over his eyes as he tapped on the case with a black painted nail. “Think of it as a peace offering if nothing else.”
“A peace offering?”
Immediately, not knowing what took control of her hands, Roxy popped the case open and slid out the insert, the picture of Mag and Dani staring back at her as she tucked the plastic under her arm and flipped through the small book. Going along with the theme of the cover image, the pages containing the lyrics, acknowledgments, and legal elements were stylized to look like a map of the Hollywood Hills. Mixed in along the way were photos, some she recognized from their early days as a band and others that appeared to have been taken throughout their journey in L.A.
Nothing in particular stood out to her, so she kept her place using her thumb and used the paper to smack Mag on the shoulder. “Dude, whatever-”
That felt more casual than she’d liked, but she didn’t spend too much time dwelling on the action before he spoke again. “The credits?”
Roxy blinked up at him, mind going blank.
Opening the booklet again, she could hardly get her vision to focus as she followed the line of text down the first page for the opening song, from the title to the lyrics to the compositional credits. It was there, in shiny black bold letters.
Lyrics and guitar composed by Roxanne Somerset.
Line of sight jumping over to the next page for the second song, there it was again, and on the third, the fourth, all the way through the complete tracklist.
It must have been nearly impossible for her to contain the shock on her face, and judging by the cheery laugh escaping Mag’s lips, he found the way she tore through the book to look at every song to find her name underneath entirely amusing.
“I just wanted to apologize,” He shared, “What happened the day you left the band was entirely my fault… You’d still be here with us if I hadn’t been such a complete ass. So, this is a thank you, an apology, and hopefully, a way to start making up as well - Our manager said she’d talk with your boss tonight and make sure all the writing copyright and royalties and whatever else goes to you.”
“Mag, I…” Roxy was at a complete loss. Ever since Brand New Day had unexpectedly moved to the Palm Woods she’d been worried about the two of them passing off her work as their own, skyrocketing to the top of the pop rock charts without so much as a thought about how it might have affected her. “You still took my songs. I wasn’t there for recording or mixing or-”
“I know. We fucked up, Rox, big time, but you know how badly we needed out of Duluth.” He looked up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “All three of us were bigger than that stupid, stifling town.”
Taking the case from where she tucked it under her arm, Roxy popped it back open and slid the insert back inside. “That doesn’t make it okay. Not in the slightest.”
When her voice broke on the last word, Mag’s head snapped back down, brow softening as he pulled one of his lip rings between his teeth. “Every song was done by the notes in your book - I swear. Just give the album a listen before you judge.”
“I don’t own a CD player,” She fought back. Sweaty fists balling up into her skirt, the writer breathed, “Anything worth listening to can be recorded onto a tape.”
At her words, Mag smiled, reaching back into the pocket of his jacket. A few of the pins could be heard clanking together. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten too much about you, Roxy. I know mixtapes are one of your favorite forms of communication and this is likely the most important one I’ve ever made.”
A black and white tape was pressed into her hands and Mag finally moved out of her way. Black and red flannel wrapped around his waist swaying with each step, he paused when they were shoulder to shoulder, dropping his mouth to her ear and murmuring, “Accept my apology or don’t. I just want my friend back.”
Roxy twirled the cassette in her hands. “Start with telling everyone here you didn’t write these songs and I’ll think about thinking about it.”
***
In the twenty minutes between meeting up with her friends and the house lights going down to signal Brand New Day’s show was about to start, Roxy had fumbled her way through conversations, not registering much of what was going on around her.
The day had already been too much. Fighting with Gustavo and Griffin, not to mention the disaster of a limo ride where the producer had all but yelled at her for voicing this party was a bad idea, and now, she had Mag’s so-called apology to consider. The cassette he’d given her was burning a hole in her mini backpack, one she could feel on the small of her back as she and the boys made their way over to the V.I.P. viewing area.
To top it all off, she couldn’t even find comfort in her boyfriend until the party was over, despite walking right next to him, in case any of the news outlets attending the party caught sight of the two of them. With everything going on right now, that was only an added stress flowing through Roxy’s head.
Slowly, as she, the band, and their bosses took their place at the set of circular standing tables beside the stage, she could practically feel the hemispheres of her brain pull apart from each other, resulting in one of the most splitting headaches she’d ever had. It was only added to once the Hurons and Ms. McAllister arrived at the tables in front of them.
“Okay, here’s the plan,” Kendall whispered behind her, effectively pulling her out of the heavy daze she’d found herself swimming in. “Logan, you disrupt the fog machine and set it to produce as much fog as possible; If no one can see the band, they can’t play. Carlos, the stairs to the mezzanine are to the left, make sure the spotlights are out, okay? James, the audio control booth is being set up in the middle of the room. I took a peek earlier and it’s exactly like Gustavo’s - If you can mess with the microphone sound, I’ll take care of the instrument sound. And Rox…” The boy pushed a bottle of Peppy Cola her way, glass screeching unpleasantly across the table. “You just sit here and enjoy Brand New Day’s downfall. Everyone got it?”
With three of the boys letting out an emphatic, “Yes!” it was quite hard to hear Roxy whisper, “No.”
From her right side, Carlos bumped elbows with her. “If you don’t want to stand around, you can come with me to the mezzanine! There’s probably a bunch of lights we can mess with.”
Enthused giggle leaving his lips, he linked his arm through hers and made a move in the direction Kendall had pointed out earlier. Though it jostled her a bit due to his hockey player strength, Roxy managed to hold her ground, feeling both of her hands fly up to the black tabletop, nails attempting to dig into the solid surface.
When Carlos’ brow furrowed, he stopped trying to pull her along but kept their arms linked together. “Maybe you’d feel more comfortable at the audio booth?”
Roxy’s mouth opened to respond, but no sound came out.
“I could use a hand with the fog machine, if I’m being honest,” Logan tried, tossing a weak smile in his assistant’s direction. Both of them knew he didn’t, he was just doing his best to include her in their plan to sabotage Brand New Day’s show. “If one of us follows the chord to whatever power source it’s hooked up to, we could manage to increase the electrical current flowing to the-”
“Guys, just stop for a second.” The cautious words from James caused the girl to increase her grip on the table as he cut Logan off. It was almost as if he were upset about something, though she wasn’t sure if he had some reason to be.
Did something happen while I was away?
“Roxy? You don’t want us to do anything, do you?” He asked, plain as day. For a boy who was often quite lacking in situational awareness, he’d zoomed into her problem far quicker than any of their friends.
Had they not been in a crowded room, she’d reach up, knot her fingers in his t-shirt, and pull him down into an earth-shattering kiss.
When she shook her head, she was finally able to release her fingers from the table, though they soon resumed keeping busy as she began to pick at her cuticles. Now that they’d gotten to the root of the problem, she wasn’t sure she wanted to explain to them why she felt that way.
Should she clue them into her conversation with Mag? It wasn’t any of their business, but they were her best friends. Maybe they’d understand where she was coming from, why she wanted to believe he was truly apologetic for his actions. But on the other hand, what if they didn’t comprehend why she was considering what they’d talked about? Any criticism hurtling her way would probably break her, let alone statements about her ability to judge character.
There had been a reason she’d been pulled into Mag and Dani’s world their freshman year. The two of them had been good friends. Her best friends. They’d given her a space to express her feelings judgment-free and had taken a chance on the least punk-presenting person in all of Duluth to help give rise to the band they’d built together.
She didn’t want to forget the long nights they’d spent together, handing out fliers outside of record stores, hanging out in the radio station during her overnight shifts, or the shows they’d handcrafted, piecing the setlists together as though their lives depended on it. Even outside of their band, they’d been the first two to explore their hometown with her, they’d gotten through Mag’s father's passing together, and survived the horrors of American public schooling by each other's sides.
Those were the people she remembered them to be; Those were the people she still wanted them to be. Was it so wrong to want her friends back too?
The pit in her stomach certainly told her it was.
Even if she wasn’t entirely sure she was still willing to forgive them for what they’d done, if Mag truly meant what he had said earlier, this might be the performance he makes it right, and Roxy wasn’t interested in sabotaging that in any way… Selfish as that might be.
“No,” she confirmed, daring to pull her nails from the bloody mess she’d eventually make if she kept pulling at her skin and reaching down to her side to lock pinkies with her boyfriend. Though that wasn’t the physical comfort she sought at the moment, it would have to do for now. “If something goes wrong and it’s traced back to the four of you, Gustavo’d throw a fit. He’s already on edge…”
Looking around the table, she took note of nodding heads, until Kendall slammed one hand down on the table, causing her to flinch at the sound, practically shouting, “Rox, who gives a fuck? These two completely screwed you over!”
Kendall yelling at her? That was certainly a new experience - One she didn’t take well to at all.
“Still! That’s my music they’re about to play up there!” She roared back, feeling the line that had been tightening all night finally snap, goosebumps prickling down her arms at the tone he’d taken with her. “That’s serious shit, Kendall! That’s personal. My heart is up there on that stage with every word, every strum of a guitar chord… Credited to my name or not, if the four of you hatch some stupid, wacky plan and ruin that, you’d be screwing me over, too!”
“Don’t you understand? People like Mag and Dani need to be taught a lesson! Or they’ll just keep getting what they want over, and over! Those two did some damage, Roxy, we see it whenever you try to keep an unfinished song from us or carry your problems alone-”
Chest constricting, Roxy didn’t bother to quell her words. Whatever was getting Kendall so worked up, letting him think it was fine to raise his voice at her affected her tenfold. “There’s nothing of mine left for them to take! It seems you’ve forgotten that’s your job now!”
Silence.
James let his hand fall from hers.
By the way her friends gaped at her declaration, she had been right to hold back the contents of her conversation with Mag.
Finally, she found where they differ; Big Time Rush wanted revenge for what had been done to their assistant. Roxy wanted, needed, recompense.
Carlos glanced somewhere behind Roxy before his line of sight made it down to the black tablecloth. “You think our plans are stupid?”
“Is… writing for us not fun anymore?” Across the table, Logan’s question further twisted Carlos’ knife.
And all at once, the conversation that was meant to bring the five of them together that night left the writer feeling fully isolated. Her heart throbbed, unpleasantly mixing in with the beginnings of a bass drum beat blaring through the stage speakers, blood pouring into her ears as the pangs of anger prickled her brow. Beginnings of anything she could possibly say next were swallowed up by the crowd’s ovation as the lights went up and Brand New Day took the stage - That was probably a good thing, too, because if Kendall wanted a yelling match, Roxy was just bothered enough to give him one.
Of all the things she had to be right about that night, her statement about her heart being on stage rattled around her head as she recognized the opening riff to the first song, “Into the Night.” Based on the night of Brand New Day’s first show, an evening blazed into Roxy’s memory from the pure emotional overload, Mag began to sing the lyrics. His unrefined, raw, voice stood out from music perfectly, sounding like the punk singers he’d spent so much time learning vocals from on old CD tracks in his bedroom.
Goddamn it, the girl thought, taking everything in, it does sound just like I imagined it would.
As the song went on, she tried to reach out to James, only to find his arms crossed against his chest, watching Mag very intently as he jumped around the stage while he played. When she attempted to place a hand on his arm, he shrugged her off, not even bothering to look over in her direction.
“Babe,” She called, almost directly into his ear, but the sound coming from the speakers was far too loud, drowning out any possibility of her soft tone reaching his ears.
That, or more likely, he was pretending like he couldn’t hear anything but the music.
***
“Heartswell Summer” was the last song and lead single off Barely Hanging On.
A song Roxy had written after Mag had gotten his driver’s license, when the two of them had taken his mom’s car keys and joyrode around Duluth the summer of their sophomore year. Taking on surface streets and highways together, daring to head down little one-way mountain roads, and overall, just enjoying the company of a friend.
Something had been… freeing about the entire interaction; The idea that someone she knew besides her father was able to drive her places was a major plus, but also, the ability to potentially play shows outside of their hometown. That excited the two of them more than anything.
Originally, Dani was set to come with them on their drive to nowhere, wasting as much gas as they could before they would inevitably have to come back home and beg Ms. McAllister to refill the tank - none of them had ever pumped gas before - but they had to pass. Sydnee’s family’s upholstery store needed someone to cover the register while her sister had her tonsils out and they were more than happy to step up to the plate.
Looking back, had Dani been there, Roxy wasn’t sure she’d have been able to come up with the song in the first place. There’s no way they’d let them listen to Mag’s Saves The Day CD or park the car at the cliffs of the North Shore, staring out the front windshield and admiring the beauty of the lake scene in front of them.
The two of them weren’t talking about anything important, in fact, as she tried to search the recesses of her memory to try and take a guess as to what it was, she couldn’t even come up with anything. At one point, he’d turned to her as they spoke and his unwavering attention caused her mouth to go dry.
Then, her heartbeat a little faster. Palms grew sweaty as she held tightly to the soda cup they’d gotten at the Bun In A Million drive-thru. When she laughed at whatever jokes he made, there was a little something extra behind it.
Sure, she’d been on a date before, kissed a guy even, but none of the new feelings she’d encountered that day even came close to what she was experiencing in the passenger seat of Mag’s car.
On the way home, they’d sung along to his CD until their voices were gone and the minute she got home, she locked herself in her bedroom and wrote “Heartswell Summer.”
A few months later, that song had been the catalyst for her humiliating departure from Brand New Day.
Now, hearing the final chorus escape Mag’s lips, Dani, sweaty, but still expertly pounding away at their drum kit to round the song out, Roxy decided for the first time in ages, she was glad to have written it, even in the wake of the pain it had caused her. Without it, she’d have never considered signing up for Gustavo’s talent auditions, never leading her to meet Big Time Rush, never have allowed her to travel the United States playing her songs for crowds of thousands and thousands.
The applause the duo had garnered was well deserved, no denying those two put on an excellent show. It was also evident Brand New Day had no place for her any longer, even if a small part of her had thought that there was the slightest possibility, and admittedly, that realization didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would.
Roxy’s place was with Big Time Rush - A fact she’d overlooked tonight for the sake of the past and people she used to love. But that didn’t change the fact she wanted to get in Kendall’s face and scream, show him how upset his tone had made her, how he made it sound like she wasn’t able to solve her problems on her own.
Control freak…
It had been a good while since she’d been this agitated, there was a reason she’d been drawn the punk music after all, feeling the need to get it out all at one person. She hadn’t allowed herself to yell at Dak after their break up or at Camille when she’d kissed James, because she thought herself better than that. Now, she was pretty sure if that blond boy got anywhere in her vicinity she’d explode.
The worst part? Though anger like this was healthy every once and a while, Roxy was usually able to channel it into something good, like a song, but her mind was just drawing blank after blank. A kid with a white crayon scribbling and wondering why nothing was showing up on the page.
With no outlet like that, she knew she’d better keep her mouth shut before their fight evolved into something bigger than it already was. At some point, she’d have to apologize, especially for dragging the other three into it unprompted, but that was the farthest thing from her mind right now as Mag and Dani took their bows, stepping up to the microphone to say their thank you’s to the crowd.
With the sound of clapping slowly starting to dissipate, Mag strummed a few chords on the baby blue guitar over his shoulder - The one that had inspired Roxy to write the track “Baby Blue” - before stepping up, joking, “That’s enough of that! Stop it!” before placing his hands over his heart.
“Plenty of people in our lives deserve the applause far more than we do,” Dani followed, pulling out a sheet of paper from their back pocket. Sound of crinkling paper coming through the mic, they spoke in their usual nonchalant manner. “Even though you get to see the two of us up here, Brand New Day is far more than Mag and I.”
“First off, we’d like to thank our parents… Not very punk, we know, but we really wouldn’t be here without their constant and unwavering support!”
Dani waved his hand up and down, prompting the crowd to cheer louder and louder, as one of the spotlights found its way to the table where the Hurons and Ms. McAllister were sat. An odd first choice to the girl, considering she could remember plenty of times they hadn’t been supportive. Considering she hadn’t been around them for a little over a year, what did she know about their current parental relationships?
Another lazy riff and Mag let it ring through the speakers before taking the mic again, “And of course, none of this would be possible if the lovely and talented producer, Chelsea Northrop, hadn’t taken a chance on our little band…”
The light found a middle-aged woman in the crowd, bright red hair contrasting greatly with the black of her power suit, and she politely waved. No trace of a smile on her face despite the band receiving so much positive feedback from fans in real-time.
Running their hand down the written list in their hands, Dani smiled before crumpling up the paper and throwing it behind their back. They leaned into Mag’s grip on the mic. “One more person…”
Roxy’s heart skipped.
“...Well, more like a group of people: The fans! Thank you all so much for always showing up for us, buying our music, hyping us up online… The growth of Brand New Day can’t be attributed to anyone else. We can’t wait to keep making music you all love!” With a flip of their long hair over their shoulder, the house lights illuminated the crowd, and it appeared as though Dani was reaching down to the front of the stage to pull one of the setlists off and hand it to someone in the front when Mag drew his pick up and down the strings again.
With a few clicks of his tongue and a wry smile, the black-haired boy waggled his finger toward the audience. “Speaking of fans… Were any of you lucky enough to see us when we were a shitty little cover band back in our hometown?”
One person in the audience cheered, “Hell yeah!” with an emphatic fist pump, inspiring Roxy to let out a “Whoo!” of her own from the sidelines, clapping her hands together as loud as she could just so the big room wasn’t so quiet.
“Well then, you might have noticed we downsized from a trio to a duo - Fear not, our best friend Roxanne Somerset is still with us behind the scenes. Not only did she write every song we played up here tonight, and the entire album if I’m being honest. She also helped arrange all of the covers we played back home. Dani and I don’t think her nearly enough, so Rox, if you’re out there, what do you say to playing one more song with us?”
Dani froze, looking at the singer with wide eyes.
Recompense. Just like she’d wanted. Only now she was learning she’d bit off far more than she was willing to chew when the same annoying spotlight Carlos had promised to bust found her on the sidelines, nearly blinding her. It took all she had not to bring her hands up to her face to block the light, and the crowd’s chant of, “One more song! One more song!” didn’t leave her much choice.
Caught in a catch-22, Roxy didn’t have much time to mull over her decision. Play the song or don’t. Piss off Big Time Rush or piss off Brand New Day.
Accept my apology or don’t.
Turning the offer down would just be downright embarrassing, especially in front of so many people, and when her eyes finally adjusted to the light, she could see her friends in the V.I.P. section staring straight back at her, trying to determine her choice.
When Kendall slowly shook his head in her direction, Roxy just about lost it.
She ran up to the stage, making sure to go out of her way to pass by the table the boys were standing at, because what did they know about her time in Brand New Day? How dare Kendall act as if he were the end-all, be-all of her life’s decisions? Playing in her own band, getting to own the whole stage, and interacting with the other two, was far more a rewarding feeling than being boxed in stage right at a Big Time Rush show. Not that Kendall would understand. He’d never even know the difference.
Who cared if she played one more song with them? It was a good send-off, especially after Mag had admitted to a room full of people neither he nor Dani had written their own music - The first step in what she was now happy to consider a healing friendship. The boys would just have to get over it eventually.
When she approached the band, Roxy didn’t think twice before throwing her arms around each of their shoulders, pulling them down into the huddle position they’d always do to debrief before their shows. Paying no mind to the crowd in front of them, Roxy took her time savoring the moment.
“Thank you, both of you, for admitting that. Being so honest with everyone was pretty… Unexpected, but appreciated” She beamed, hair falling into her face, wrestling them a bit tighter. “And congratulations on the album.”
Mag was the first to fire back, “Thank you, Roxy. Seriously, I mean-”
“What song are we playing?” Dani cut him off, rolling their drumsticks between their palms. Small, lined intents covered the thick wood from top to bottom, a testament to how hard Dani went on their kit during the performance. “‘The Anthem?’”
“Oh, God, no. Not while the Maddens are here.” Cheek scrunching in disgust, Roxy couldn’t stand the thought of playing a Good Charlotte song while two of its founding members were somewhere in the audience. “The Replacements, maybe? ‘Bastards of Young?’”
“That song is ancient,” Mag laughed, light and airy, “I was thinking something more suited to Roxy’s taste… Not exactly punk, but how about ‘Bring It On Down?’”
The gasp that escaped Roxy’s lips might have been heard by the entire crowd, “You’re serious? I had to beg both of you to learn that one…”
“Sure. That one. Whatever.” Dani grunted, gently moving out of the writer’s grasp and jerking a thumb in her direction. “Just one problem, she can’t play any of the guitars here.”
“Think again, Dani!”
Now that the huddle was broken, Mag slid a few steps side stage and pulled out his first electric guitar; The black, sleek instrument Roxy would always have to borrow for their more important shows instead of playing her shitty acoustic/electric.
Roxy childishly snatched it out of his hands, pulling the neck into her chest and rocking side to side, “I can’t believe you kept it strung like this!”
In a flash the black strap was around her shoulder, adjusted as though he hadn’t played it once since she last touched it, and she reached out to his mic stand to take a pick.
“I had hope we might play together someday… Call me sentimental…” He took a step closer to her and reached out a hand. Without thinking, she leaned back, eyes widening.
“Hey-”
If they noticed this interaction at all, they didn’t let it show. Dani struck their drumsticks together to signal the beginning of the song. If Roxy had any hope of getting through the song without messing up, she’d have to pay incredibly close attention to the time Dani was keeping on the drums.
Once more, Mag held out his hand, palm facing her this time in some sort of peace gesture before he went for her shoulder, adjusting the strap so it was smooth on her skin instead of the twisted mess she’d made of it when she slung it on the first time.
Roxy had to look down at the instrument below her, not because she needed to see the strings to play, but to ignore the way his eyes shone under the bright stage lights.
That, coupled with the fact “Bring It On Down” was one of her favorite Oasis songs had her thinking for just a split second that maybe it was a bad idea she’d chosen to join them… But when it came her time to strike the lead chord, hear it resonate out to the crowd as everyone began to move to the beat, that thought quickly left her mind.
With a glance to the table with her friends, she tried to send a silent message to James that she wished it was him up there with her, but he was too busy speaking with Kendall, Logan, and Carlos - quite furiously by the quickness of his hand gestures - to notice any of the fun she was having.
***
Just as she left the stage after a final bow, placing Mag’s guitar back into its case on the side, she turned to look for Brand New Day, only to find the red-haired woman from earlier, standing right behind her.
“Hey, Ms. Northrop, right?” She greeted, attempting to mask the small gasp of surprise that left her lips. Blood still pumping from the adrenaline rush of performing, the girl wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. “They should put a bell on you… or something. Uh... Thanks for letting me play with those two again-”
Stepping forward, Chelsea’s heeled boot smacked the wood of the stage as she extended a hand, and Roxy flinched, making it hard for her to return the woman’s handshake.
“I’m going to cut to the chase.” Chelsea cut her off, very effective in doing exactly what she had said. “Do you like it at Rocque Records?”
Roxy wasn’t sure if the continued hammering in her chest was due to the performance anymore. “I do-”
“Gustavo Rocque is an unpleasant man,” the woman spoke over the rest of what Roxy was trying to say.
If she’s trying to sell herself as more pleasant… It’s not looking that way…
“He has his moments, sure-”
“I have a contract here offering you your same assistant songwriter position under me and all four of the bands I manage.” From her large black purse hanging at her side, Chelsea opened a professional-looking ledger and produced just that; A thick, bound leather folder was thrust into the assistant’s hands before she had the chance to protest.
Immediately, Roxy pushed it back toward her as though the object was cursed, “Look, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’m not-”
“Open to the second page. Section 12-B. Line four.”
“No. I’m not going to do that, Chelsea. How about you let me finish what I’m saying?” The fury she’d felt toward Kendall earlier was starting to bubble up again, and though she had done her best to be cordial with this woman, getting spoken over was just degrading. “I’m not looking to switch jobs and I’m not looking to work with Brand New Day again, that performance was just for fun, okay? There’s nothing in the world that could make me-”
“Roxanne, I’m willing to offer you three times your current salary to come work for me at Galactic Records.”
The next words that came out of Roxy’s mouth were a garbled mess of sounds dying halfway from her throat to her tongue. “Wha?”
“You’ve got forty-eight hours to let me know your decision. Please make the right one.”
Only at the sound of her heels smacking on the wood did the writer realize Chelsea was walking away. Click, click, click…
All the writer could do was stand there, dumbstruck at the offer, running the producer's words over and over in her head as she tried to make sense of all that had just occurred. The leather folder in her hands had held the key that would unlock the door to more industry opportunity, which, honestly, didn’t matter to Roxy in the slightest, but to walk away from triple the salary she made at Rocque Records…
From the boost in royalties this new album under her name would provide, she had figured, at least, she might be able to pay for her father to come visit, but with three times her current salary?
Screw Dad coming to visit… Dad could move here. We could live together again and see all the things we talked about seeing if we could afford it…
From somewhere in the crowd, Roxy heard Mag’s laugh ring out, clear and true.
Was this all a ploy to get my writing back in Brand New Day?
Even without confirmation, the thought of getting played by Mag McAllister again had Roxy’s eyes watering faster than the end of Titanic. Half-way a call for help, half-way a prayer, she shakily whispered her boyfriend’s name, “James… I need to find James…” before a few lyrics wedged their way into her brain.
The only issue? Her songbook and pen were in her backpack at the table and there was no way she was letting the other three see her like this right now. Frantically, her eyes scanned the side stage area, hoping for a pen, paper, anything that could help her get the lyrics down on paper before she forgot them, but her search yielded no results.
Without thinking, she practically tore her phone out of her back pocket and opened her texting app to the first conversation, typing out.
R: I walk offstage because this whole play is more than I can take
Once that was out of mind, Roxy heard another line begin to play, but it was too loud to decipher over the chatter from the venue’s patrons. She needed to get out of there, now, somewhere quiet where she could get the lyric out before losing it.
Good thing the ramp leading to the stage let out close to a hallway marked with a glowing red exit sign.
R: I was one foot out the door, I couldn’t play that part no more
This new lyric finally erupted as the cool air of the Los Angeles night set in, lining the girl’s skin, a new tremor racking through her already shaking hands as her fingers typed out one last line.
R: The chemistry just wasn't there, I couldn't act like I didn't care, when I do, I do
How annoying. Roxy threw her head back, greedily gulping down the smoggy breeze in the alley outside of the venue. Still writing stupid songs about him to this day-
“Don’t tell me you came out here to complain about Mag. That’s your ‘I-Want-To-Complain-About-Mag’ face.”
“Jesus, Dani!” For the second time in as many minutes, Roxy jumped at an unexpected presence, this time coming from the stairs to the venue’s second floor, where Dani sat about halfway up, a lit cigarette between their pointer and middle fingers. “I’m going to put a fucking bell on you too, I swear to God…”
“O-kay,” Dragged out the drummer, making sure to pull the cigarette for a few beats too long before blowing the smoke out in Roxy’s direction. “Whatever that means…”
But, they scooted over, patting the rotting iron step beside them.
Bundling into her bare arms as they crossed over her chest, Roxy gave a grateful nod and descended a few steps to reach them. The last time they’d sat outside and spoken like this had to have been her last winter in Minnesota, right before the band broke up. Roxy couldn’t remember if it had been on her back porch or Dani’s, but either way, the gorgeous Duluth sky had left them ample opportunity to stargaze and talk about whatever came to mind.
When she finally sat, the smoke’s earthy scent enveloped her nostrils, curling down into her mouth and making her crave the taste on her tongue.
Maybe Dani noticed, or maybe they were just being polite, but they held the cigarette in her direction.
Roxy just shook her head, “Not tonight, thanks… It’d ruin my ability to complain about Mag, don’t you think?”
The snort coming out of Dani’s nose had a little bit of smoke behind it.
“For the record, I’m pissed at him too. I had no idea those songs were yours, Rox, not until I held the final copy of our record in my hands. There’s no way I’d agree to play them if I’d known.” For a brief moment, they flicked the ash down onto the ground below. Dani Huron was many things; a great drummer, a grassroots activist, a Good Charlotte fan. The one thing Dani Huron was not, was a liar. “Hmm… Doesn’t seem to affect my complaining at all...”
After the most emotionally tumultuous hour of her life, Roxy let out a small sigh, daring to lay her head down onto the soft t-shirt sleeve covering Dani’s shoulder, just like she would when they were smoking back home.
Earlier in the day she’d never have dreamed of speaking to Dani like this ever again, but now, she just needed someone to talk to and it seemed as though they were more than willing to listen. Though it was a nasty habit, smoking always helped calm them down, cracking through their hard shell and allowing them to open up far more than in casual conversation.
“Dani, I am so sorry for thinking you had a part in that all this time,” Even the sigh at the drummer’s quip wasn’t enough to help swallow the crack in her voice. Of course, Roxy wanted to say it was okay, but at this point, her mind was so twisted, she had no idea who to believe. “Mag apologized for taking them earlier, actually, and I asked him to tell everyone it was my music. Then he did. So, I thought it would be cool to play with you again… For the sake of… A new friendship, maybe? But then that witch Chelsea offered me a job at Galactic the moment I got off stage. Three times my current salary. And now I have no clue what to make of everything… Am I crazy to feel like he’s just playing me again?”
“What makes you think I’d tell you if I knew?”
“Best friend code?”
“That’d normally work if we’d spoken any time in the last… twelve months, I think. Or you’d left Duluth with a goodbye.” They turned their face to the side, casting a glance over the alleyway below. “I called you, like, a million times when Project Pop canceled your show ‘for the foreseeable future’ because you’d ‘moved to the land of the stars.’”.
Screwing her eyes shut, Roxy dug the heels of her palms into her eyelids. “Again… Thought you were in on the whole song-stealing thing…”
Taking another drag, Dani let out a silent bout of laughter, shoulders shaking and sending their friend’s head bobbing up and down. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm began to go off, interrupting the surprising silence of the big city at night.
“Seriously, though, I want this band built off of talent, not lies. If Mag has anything cooked up, I swear on Bear he didn’t say a word to me.”
Visions of Dani’s enormous goldendoodle ran through Roxy’s mind. “Thanks, Dee… Out of everything that’s happened tonight you wouldn’t believe how refreshing this normal conversation is..”
“Oh?” More smoke curled out of their mouth as they breathed out the word, scratching at the black, metal ring stuck in their nose. “You’re always in the middle of the weirdest drama - and I mean that affectionately.”
“That trait 100% followed me to Los Angeles… You should meet the guys I work for,” The writer huffed as the corners of her mouth turned up, “I royally fucked things up with them earlier, too… Ugh, that apology is going to be so humiliating-”
The door the the venue slammed open below them. “Roxanne?”
James said her name with a sense of urgency, one she’d never heard out of him before.
“And that’s my cue… Catch you later,” Dani whispered, bumping shoulders with their friend before sliding down the stairs and back into the venue.
“Up here, babe!” His assistant called, shooting to her feet almost as quickly as Dani had, and taking a few steps to the ground. As James turned to the sound of her voice, she couldn’t help but throw herself into him, arms scrunching around his torso, “I’m so sorry about earlier, what I said was…”
When she pressed her ear to his chest, she could hear the rapid beating of his heart. Then, his arms were on her shoulders, physically putting her at an arm's length away. A cursory glance up and down his tall frame immediately told her something was wrong. Not only was his perfectly set hair uncharacteristically disheveled, but his stunning hazel eyes were puffed red under the halogen lamp hanging above the door, foot anxiously tapping on the ground as he pulled one hand off of her and reached into his front pocket.
Phone screen flicking on, almost as bright as that spotlight earlier, his fingers dug into her shoulder as he held it up to her, “What the hell is this?”
Three white text bubbles filled her vision; The song lyrics she’d been unable to write down earlier had been sent in rapid succession. No wonder he looked so panicked… Receiving those three lines in a row would certainly freak anyone out.
Intestines twisted, and the girl shook her head. Why hadn’t I thought of that before I hit the send button?
Her hand shot up to meet his, curling around the fingers that held his phone and lowering the device out of her face. If he could feel the claminess setting into her palms, he didn’t mention it.
As difficult as looking him in his bloodshot eyes was, Roxy assured him, “Lyrics! Song lyrics, James, nothing else. My journal was too far-”
“Lyrics? To a breakup song?” Though a chuckle left his lips, it was anything but gleeful. “Something inspired you to write that tonight?”
“It’s a bit early to call it a breakup song… It’s just three lines. They came to me when I hopped off stage, that’s all.”
Sucking in a breath, James shook her hand off of his. The boy in front of her was physically shaking and it certainly wasn’t due to the low temperature outside. “Playing with Mag caused you to write this?”
Of course, that’s what she had said, opposite from what she’d meant.
“The words are about him, baby, not you!” Reaching out for him again, she tried to place her palm on his cheek, but he recoiled from her touch, shying away from her like a vampire in the sunlight. For a second, Roxy had to swallow down some bile rising in her throat. “I think we need to go home and talk, okay? We’re not breaking up; It’s just a poorly timed text message.”
When his eyes glazed over, Roxy knew she had lost him. His utterance of “We… need to talk?” suggested he hadn’t heard anything beyond the first part of her statement.
“Breathe, James, please. You’re going to pass out.”
Like he had before, he only continued hearing what he wanted to, saying whatever he could to fit the narrative he’d constructed about the messages he’d received. Labored, but collected enough, he pushed out, “We do need to talk, actually. About you writing love songs about other guys!”
The lamp above the doorway flickered, and Roxy’s vision began to blur. A nasty flashback of Dak chewing her out in her apartment about hanging out with the band flashed behind her eyes.
“How come it was a breakup song when you thought it was about you, and a love song now that you know it’s about Mag?”
Asking that question through shakey breaths likely ruined how important it was to her to hear his explanation.
Mouth flapping open and closed like a fish, James finally found his words as he read over the text messages again. “I couldn’t act like I care, when I do.”
Roxy ran one finger over her top lip to stave off the running she could feel starting in her nostrils. All her brain told her was that she needed to crash into him, squeeze him to death, run her hands through his hair as they spoke and maybe, maybe, he’d be ready to listen to her, but if she reached out to him one more time and he refuted it, she’d break down far sooner than she was on track to. “He just said some things to me earlier about my songs and I asked him to admit they weren’t his to everyone tonight. It’s just a little confusing where we stand now-”
“Who cares where you stand? You have me!’
“Will you stop implying I’m into him? I can’t think of any other way to say it, James! It’s just a stupid fucking song I was dumb enough to write down outside of my songbook and share with the world before it was done!” The writer cried. “And Kendall wonders why I keep that shit to myself… I’ve done my best to share my songs with you before they’re finished recently, but right now you’re just proving why I shouldn’t!”
“Right,” Huffed the boy in front of her. “Because communication is only a two-way street when it comes to anyone but you.”
Jaw falling slack, Roxy’s entire body grew numb. Out of everyone in her life, he was the person she’d been the most vulnerable with. Allowing herself to take the plunge into romantic entanglement together, both emotional and physical. Their entire relationship was built on placing trust in the other person. Just the hint of the idea James didn’t trust her anymore sent the tears Roxy had been holding back spilling out onto her cheeks. “This conversation is over, James. I can’t-I can’t do this right now. This night has already been so hard for me.”
Making way for the door behind James, she rammed her shoulder into his arm. He allowed himself to be knocked to the side. “Sure didn’t seem that way when you were rocking out with your lying, stealing, jerks of ex-band mates.”
Catching the heavy, metal door before it closed, Roxy stood halfway into the building, tossing her head over her shoulder to give her boyfriend one final glance before escaping to the crowd inside. “Sure beats the hell out of a jealous, combative, asshole of a boyfriend.”
She didn’t stop moving, not as she weaved through the tables by the stage to get her bag, or around the people getting down on the dance floor, when Gustavo called her name, or when her sock slid down her heel, digging into the bottom of her foot as she stomped to the front of the venue.
Thanks to the large number of attendees to the album release party, nearly a dozen taxis were waiting out front to pick up anyone who hadn’t been lucky enough to arrange a ride beforehand. Around her, a handful of adults staggered on the sidewalk, who had taken advantage of the open bar, while others her age went this way and that with their CDs and other Brand New Day merch in hand.
When she came across the first empty cab, she took a fifty out of her wallet and threw it in the window. “The Palm Woods hotel, as fast as possible.”
The cabbie didn’t need to be asked twice, and the minute the door to the backseat closed, they peeled away from the curb so quickly Roxy feared her head might spin off.
Now that the party was in the rearview mirror, the girl was oddly relieved, though that didn’t stop the rush of emotions still completely overwhelming her. She was pretty sure she’d been crying for the last several minutes, if evidenced by the tear stains on the blank notebook pages in her lap, and the numbness from James’ words earlier still stuck around.
How she managed to piss off all of her friends in one night might be some kind of new fucked up world record… One that would make the work day tomorrow anything but normal.
--
hi, lots to say about this one, but mostly that i'm sorry lol this did hurt very much to write!
roxy's lyrics come from an unreleased btr song called intermission if anyone was wondering.
i imagine brand new day sounds a lot like yellowcard (minus the violin) (that's a surprise tool that will help us later) and "heartswell summer" is heavily based if not lifted entirely from their song "with you around"
and as always, thank you for reading! be sure to let me know what you think <3 ily <3
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For the @12daysofattoye challenge :P @attoye
Merry Christmas, Baby 🎁 - An Attoye Hallmark crackfic
- words: 2.5k+
Summary: This is a hallmark Christmas romance between Okoye, a big city businesswoman, and Attuma, her childhood crush boy next door who owns a Christmas tree business, and his dad isn’t Santa or anything, so chill out.
I put no effort into this, it’s purely for fun
༄ ♬ ˚₊ ➳ 💙⚔️❤️ ➳ ♪ ❀ ༄
It was a cold, snowy day, and the laughter and shine of joy on the streets was thick in the winter air.
Snow fell on the windows, the trees, and the cars in the parking lot, a perfect white blanket over a city that seemed to glow from the inside.
Okoye stood at the window and watched it fall, snickering at all the stupid people who celebrated Christmas and believed in having fun instead of working every day all the time.
It was a week from Christmas, and she was at work. She was always at work. She didn’t remember a time when she wasn't at work, especially at Christmas.
Okoye loved work, money, and the big city, but not Christmas because of her tragic past. But we’ll get into that at a later, more convenient-to-the-plot time.
Okoye sighed, sipping the coffee cup she was holding. Her best friend and the CEO of their company, Carol Danvers, was going to throw a party, and everyone would be there, including her lesbian sister, Maria Rambeau. But who cares? That’s another very gay story.
Okoye’s associate and technology manager, Shuri, walked into the room and slammed many amounts of critical business on Okoye’s desk. “Okoye,” she said, “we have many business to attend to this holiday season.”
Okoye rolled her eyes. She couldn't stand Shuri. She was annoying and always tried to bring joy into Okoye's life, but it wasn't happening.
”We need to get all this business done before Christmas so I can spend it with my Dilf Husband, Cha’htoh, or maybe my wife, Riri.”
Okoye scoffed and placed her coffee on the table in a Grinch way. “I do not care for romance and love; keep your Dilf away from my business! I will complete this business by myself!”
“But in order to complete it, you must travel to Christmas Town! A small, poor, warm, cozy town where you were born!”
“I will go to my hometown by myself and complete this business. That is all, associate Shuri Udaku.”
Shuri sighed as Okoye sat down to start on the business, tapping at her computer. “Oh, Okoye…” she lamented, “I hope you learn the true meaning of Christmas…”
And then, with a blink of an eye and a clap of her hands, the annoying associate Shuri was gone, and the door closed with a bang behind her. She must’ve been a magical negro. But Okoye cares not for magic or negros.
Okoye got back to her business, ignoring the feelings she may have in her heart because she never felt those feelings of joyful Christmas. She packed her bag in her office somehow and left for the airport in a big limousine, sighing wistfully at all the passing Christmas-flavored families.
The airport was cold and dull like her soul. She hated Christmas but had a good time listening to the Christmas songs because they reminded her of her tragic backstory.
The plane took off and she sat there and thought about her tragic backstory.
When it landed the airport this time was smaller and more warm and cozy, the planes were in a lounge sipping on hot cocoa. That’s how cozy it was.
This was truly her hometown.
She rented a car and drove down the icy road until she reached the only inn in the village, the Wakand Inn.
It was a beautiful log cabin with a fireplace and a warm glowing light.
The old inn keeper smiled at her and grasped her hand. “It’s Christmas, honey. If you need anything, just ask.”
She went to her room and laid down, sighing as she looked out the window. It had begun to snow, and the world looked soft and cozy and warm.
A feeling bubbled up inside her and she tried to push it down. This was too Christmas, she didn’t have time to Christmas, she was a big time lawyer or something like that.
She closed the curtains, and decided to go out and do some business. She put on her long trench coat and black suit and stepped outside, the snow crunching beneath her shoes.
There was a little shop across the street that was still open, the perfect place to put a big city law firm or accountants place??? Idk
She stepped into the store and found it empty except for a tall figure in a red flannel button up with sleeves rolled up who was bent over the counter, doing some work.
He turned around and smiled at her. Oh, It was the man who made her feel things in her chest. He was hot and sexy and tall and tan and thick and just overall a Mayan god, but he was too Christmas for her to love.
“Hi.” He said, his voice smooth and deep like dark chocolate. He flipped his long wavy hair over his shoulder and wiped his for some reason dirty hands on a wash cloth. “I’m Attuma. Welcome to my Christmas Tree shop.”
“Hi…” Okoye said, looking around. “Are you the owner?”
Attuma chuckled, his eyes glinting. He had a little scruffy beard on his jaw that Okoye thought was extremely sexy. “Yes, I own and operate this store. How can I help you?”
She cleared her throat. She had no time for love and romance, she needed to complete her business. “I’m here on behalf of the Milaje Corp. and we were interested in going into business with you.” She handed him many papers.
Attuma nodded. He had a strong jaw and beautiful deep brown eyes and his arms were veiny and his muscles bulged from all his small town work. He took out the papers and began to look them over, the gears in his mind turning.
Shaking his head, he handed her back the papers. “No, thank you.”
Okoye blinked in confusion.
That had never happened before.
Never ever.
In her entire time as a business woman, this had never happened.
He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled a charming smile.
“But, Mr. Attuma-“
“Just Attuma is fine.”
Okoye narrowed her eyes at him and his smile widened a bit. “Mr. Attuma. This contract is very generous!”
“You want to tear down my Christmas shop. It’s the own shop in town. Literally, there’s no other shops in the whole town.”
“But sir, this will make you very rich!”
“I don’t care about being rich, I only care abour Christmas and love.”
Okoye groaned. This was so not sexy or cool of him.
Attuma chuckled. He leaned across the counter, his hands flat on the wood, and his eyes stared deeply into hers. “Maybe you should learn more about this town and Christmas?”
“No.”
Attuma sighed, “if I can’t convince you to love Christmas by Christmas, I’ll sell you my Christmas Tree shop. Deal?”
Okoye thought about it for a moment. She was going to win, that was guaranteed, and she would be able to do her job. But what about his feelings and what if she did end up liking Christmas??
Okoye reached out and grabbed his hand, shaking it while holding his line of sight. She had to win, she had to.
She wouldn't let herself lose.
It was on.
Attuma pulled her hand towards him and kissed the back of it.
Okoye felt her insides burn. Then she heard bells, she looked towards the window and saw children playing happily and grimaced.
“I will show you what Christmas is all about, Ms. Okoye.”
“Okay.” She said, shaking her head at the happiness outside, “Wait, I never told you my-“
When she turned back, Attuma was gone.
Okoye shrugged, and headed back to her inn.
She went to sleep, dreaming of Christmas.
She hated it and beat Santa to death in her dreams.
<<<
Okoye woke up the next day, groaning as she stretched and pulled the blankets over her face. It was still early, she had time to sleep before her first business meeting.
A loud banging at her door made her jump. She groaned and pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes.
Who the hell was knocking on her door this early in the morning? When she approached the door, fully dressed suddenly and with two scarves on, the door opened.
Okoye froze.
Attuma was standing there with a grin.
And a tray.
On the tray were many, many plates.
He handed it to her and walked into the room, pushing her aside gently. He sat down at the table by the window and crossed his legs, gesturing to the chair opposite him.
Okoye looked down at the tray, then back at him.
It was filled with all kinds of food.
Pancakes.
Waffles.
French toast.
Crepes.
Scrambled eggs.
Eggs Benedict.
And bacon and sausage and a bowl of fruit.
Was this too much for one person and even four people? Yes, but it was Christmas and nothing mattered.
“So,” Attuma started watching Okoye as she began to fake eat the hearty breakfast for eight marathon runners, “Why do you hate Christmas so much?”
Okoye sighed and swallowed a big bite of food, trying to avoid Attuma's intense stare.
She was an amazing business woman and didn't feel the need to answer his stupid question. “It’s part of my tragic backstory. But that’s none of your business.”
Attuma pouted, leaning across the table. His long hair was tied back and Okoye couldn’t help but think about how his hair would look down.
She hated him.
And Christmas. But especially Christmas.
He shrugged and stood up smiling,
Damnit.
Attuma stood and grabbed her by the arm.
She protested and fought and squirmed, but he was a big muscly man. Who yanked trees from the ground for a living because he was a small town boy next door heartthrob but the last thing she was looking for was a man.
He pulled her out the inn, down the stairs and onto the cold, snowy street.
The children laughed and played, building snowmen and igloos and making angels in the snow. Okoye wrinkled her nose.
Attuma sighed. He had a dreamy look in his eyes as he watched the children. He really loved this town, he would get Okoye to love it again too.
“I remember when the town would gather to celebrate Christmas, singing carols and drinking cocoa, lighting the tree and dancing around the bonfire. Remember, Okoye?”
Okoye sighed and nodded her head. All she wanted was to complete her job, and the sooner, the better. But she did remember how she used to love Christmas, before…
Her thoughts trailed off. No, she had to finish her business and go back to her cold city life.
They walked in silence until they reached the town square. The Christmas tree was there, surrounded by many happy people and decorated beautifully with lights and ornaments.
Suddenly the Christmas magic became so big and beautiful and it overwhelmed Okoye with the power… of it… the magic.
“Okoye,” Attuma said, taking her hand and wiping a Christmas tear from her cheek, “I feel like I’m falling in love with you…”
“Attuma,” Okoye sniffled, “This eleven minute walk has been enlightening… I love Christmas and I love you! Let’s get married!”
“Yes! Okoye, you have taught me the true meaning of Christmas. The true meaning of Christmas is marriage.” He said, pressing a tender holiday kiss to her forehead. “But… I have a dark secret, I have to tell you…”
Okoye gasped, a look of horror crossing her face. “You’re gay?!”
“No, Okoye, not in this story. But I…”
“What is it, Attuma? Whatever it is we can get through it together!”
“My father… my Dad is Santa Claus.” Attuma said, dramatically. He fell to his knees, tears welling up in his eyes.
Okoye gasped and held him close, stroking his hair. Suddenly, above their heads, they heard a buzzing noise faintly grow closer.
An evil, evil helicopter flew in from the distance, flying low and fast, and circling the tree. Is that?… No! It can’t be!
“Ho ho ho!” Namor said, flapping his itty bitty winged feet in his little red shorts. “Merry Christmas!”
Okoye and Attuma looked at each other, then up at the flying elf, both wearing looks of confusion on their faces. Attuma stood up as Namor landed in the snow, hissing at the snow but he wasn’t no bitch so he took it.
“Dad?” Attuma said, confused, approaching his father.
Okoye gasped, “You’re Santa?!”
“The one and only! Merry-“
“But you’re elf sized.”
Namor grinned, “I’m travel size-“
“And why aren’t you wearing like… a suit?”
“Well, the shorts are more-“
“And your ears-“
“I’M SANTA, SHUT UP.” His right eye twitched and Okoye dropped it.
Namor smiled. He was very tan and very old, but a dilf about it honestly. Just a sexy little Christmas man. “Hello, son. It’s me, Santa Namor! And I need you to come with me or Christmas is over!”
“But Dad,” The larger son of Santa said, reaching behind him to grasp Okoye’s hand, “I love Okoye and I love Christmas, but I can't abandon my life here and I don’t want to abandon Okoye either. She left her gay friend in the big city for me!”
Namor nodded, looking at the two lovers. He sighed and shook his head as the bells jingled on his cute little hat. What a cutie patootie, that Christmas water elf king. “Well, the true meaning of Christmas… is love.”
Attuma and Okoye grinned at each other, they joined hands and it was suddenly their wedding and they kissed and rushed off into the carriage. Then Namor appeared again and did a little dance like the sky ballerina he is and sprinkled Christmas dust on them and they floated away into Christmas.
The End.
…
Okoye sighed and sat up.
Oh, it was just a dream. A horrible nightmare. Stretching and groaning in exhaustion, Okoye began to wake up.
Loud snoring on her left made her groan and she wrestled herself out of her big blue hunk of husband’s arms. “Attuma!” She whisper yelled. “Let me go!”
Attuma snorted and rolled over, falling asleep again.
Okoye grumbled and got out of bed, pulling a robe on and walking over to the window. The sun was rising slowly and surely, peeking over the Wakandan horizon. Okoye looked back and admired Attuma, even as he drooled and snored loud as a old rhino. Everything was perfect, exactly how she wanted it.
The door burst open and she startled, before the blur of speed in front of her turned into her son, Tadeas in her arms.
“Mommy…!” He sung sweetly, yawning but practically vibrating with joy. Tadeas smiled up at her, his big brown eyes twinkling. He had his father’s eyes, his mother’s cheeks, and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. Smiling softly, she grunted as she lifted him entirely into her arms. He was only six and already so heavy, just like his daddy. “Mholo ngalentsasa, Mama!”
Pressing a kiss to his forehead and then his chubby cheeks, his mother squeezed him with love. “Good morning, little rhino.”
“Big Rhino! Like Daddy!” He insisted.
Okoye laughed and set him on the bed, watching as Attuma groaned and pulled him close. He mumbled a good morning and rolled over, his eyes still closed and his hair a mess. Their daughter Xyanza rushed in after that holding a mug of room temperature tap water with a loose tea bag in it, and Okoye swooned. How thoughtful. It was wrong, but the thought was so sweet.
“Got you teatea, Mama.”
“Thank you, my sweet girl.” Okoye cooed, cupping her face with one hand.
Her daughter smiled and then rushed over to join her brother in poking Attuma until he rose from the dead.
The Wakandan sunrise was beautiful, the warm, gentle light spreading across the land and touching everything in its path. Okoye had a few reservations about celebrating this colonizer holiday with her children; the capitalization on the holidays, the price upticks, the decorating…
But seeing them now, Attuma leaning up to fight her both his children against his chest and carry them with squeals and smiles to the living room to begin opening presents… Okoye had to admit, maybe the true meaning of Christmas was love.
Or maybe it was spending money and having a good time, she wasn’t sure yet.
But she had to say, the way her family felt now, was absolutely magical.
Merry Christmas.
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