I've been re-watching some of season 1, and I always thought episode 20 went at a neck-breaking speed from beginning to end. I think it was interesting that Avery and Jolene never interacted in canon, but Avery worked on Juliette's tour and realistically probably met Jolene at some point. The two most important people in Juliette's life interacting is something that I needed to write.
Let me know if you all like it by leaving a review :)
"Barkley, do we pay you to stand around? Get a move on, we need to be packed up in 20 minutes!" The burly man hovered over him menacingly, before directing the roadies next to him to pick up the pace as well.
Groaning, he knelt down to hoist the coiled wires over his shoulder, gripping the ends firmly in his palms for stability. The weight felt heavy on his back, but the mindless task was a relief as well. It was times like these where he could just get lost in his thoughts, piecing together lyrics that he had swimming in his mind with rhythms and melodies that organically came. Even as a kid, he could remember building treehouses with his dad, handing him nails and boards but internally dreaming of chords and the way they sounded on the guitar his grandfather had given him.
But nothing new was coming to him since this morning. All he had on his mind were the lyrics he had read from another pen. Who had known Juliette Barnes had that kind of depth? He knew there was something more than just the glitter and smoke, but he hadn't fully really realized until he read those lyrics.
They haunted him.
Reaching the equipment box, he swung the wires over his shoulder carefully, placing them securely inside. Only five more sets of these to go.
As he turned the corner, maneuvering his way through craft services and racks of sparkly wardrobe, he was met face to face with confrontation.
"Baby, you don't have to do this! Let me fix this. I can talk to him."
"Don't you think you've done enough?" The young woman grabbed her mother's arm roughly; he could practically see the nails gripping down. "Do you always have to make everything about you?"
"He doesn't have to win!" The older women exclaimed, trying to free herself from her daughter's grasp. But the grip remained tight, eyes hard.
Everything about Juliette Barnes was tense. He could feel it from where he was standing.
As if on cue, both women realized they had an audience, turning towards him.
Damn it.
"I'm sorry, I was just passing through." He let his quick drawl ring out apologetically. People were fired for less than this, especially on this tour. He couldn't lose this job. Not now.
"It's all right." He heard the star let out, coldly. Her eyes were emotionless as she turned to the older women in front of her, loosening her grip. "Mama, why don't you go get yourself something to eat?"
Nodding, she backed away from her daughter regretfully, sinking her head down while walking over to the craft services table opposite to the dressing room.
Burying his own head down, he started to move towards the equipment again before bringing about any more wrath, until a voice stopped him.
"Hey, wait a minute."
He turned to see her leaning against the doorframe of her dressing room. It was only then he took in her appearance. She was still in costume from the show, glitter and sparkles everywhere.
But it was her eyes that got him. They were empty. Guarded. He had seen a glimpse past that this morning, but they were back to this.
"Yes Miss Barnes?"
She bit her lip a little, looking around to see if they had an audience. Other than her mother and a few makeup artists, the hall was relatively vacant. "You know, you can call me Juliette. You did help me write that song this morning."
That already seemed like a lifetime ago.
"Right. Juliette." He nodded respectfully. This was his boss, and despite the fact that she had shared rather personal thoughts with him this morning at her house, she was still Juliette Barnes. His boss.
She scoffed, averting her eyes a bit before looking at him again. "Don't look so pained. If you don't wanna call me by my first name you don't have to."
"No. It's not that…" His voice trailed off, as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "You just caught me off guard."
She leaned back more fully against the doorframe, crossing her arms to look up at him. He didn't realize how small she truly was until this moment. Maybe it was just the sadness in her eyes.
"Anyway, I wanted to let you know I've been working on the finishing touches of that song we worked on. I wanted to show it to you." Her hands fiddled a little with her bracelet, giving away her nervousness.
"Sure. Whenever you want." He nodded warmly. Before he could process, the words fell out of his mouth. "I've been thinking about your lyrics all day."
Her head cocked. "You have?"
"Yeah." He looked at her carefully. "They were real honest, and that's hard to come by now with songwriters."
He saw her face soften. "You really think so?"
"I do." He figured those words were simple enough to get his point across. He looked at the woman in front of him, and how this morning she had told him she didn't believe in love. The lyrics on the other hand said otherwise. Outwardly, they showed defiance. Inwardly, they dripped with pain and longing for what was unsaid and unwritten.
Her arms tightened around her body, practically shielding his words from infiltrating her being. But her eyes were open towards him.
He took his chance. "Are you alright?" He knew that she knew he had seen the confrontation with her mother. He could see she needed someone to talk to, and for some reason beyond him he wanted to be that person.
"I'm fine."
She wasn't.
She was on the defense; he could see it. Something had her terrified into a standstill.
"If you say so." He boldly slipped.
Her eyebrow cocked. "You got real nerve, don't you?" But her posture wasn't angry as she said the words. "I like that."
"I'm a no bullshit kinda guy." He let out easily. Probably easier than he should have.
"I can see that Avery." A small crack of a smile.
He shook his head, trying to break the feeling of shock at her knowing his name. Even when she had invited him to her house, he had noticed she hadn't uttered his name once. He had just taken that to mean he was her hired hand; she didn't need to know his name. The way she said it now though… it knocked him off a little. Slow down there, Barkley.
"Anyway, I gotta go load the rest of the wires up. Let me know when you wanna finish the lyrics up." He backed away slowly, shaking his thoughts again. It was the lyrics from this morning that were putting him in this mindset. And he needed to break it fast.
She smiled, nodding towards him hesitantly. "Sure. I'll let you know." Her hand gripped the back of the doorframe as he turned his heel, moving back towards packing up the equipment.
He moved in overdrive, trying to make up for the time he had missed. It seemed that another roadie had covered for him, because there was significantly less equipment lying around in his pile. He'd have to thank someone later.
"Hey. You." He turned towards the sharp voice.
Juliette's mother stood in front of him, partially shaking in her boots and partially standing tall.
"Yes ma'am. What can I do for you?" He looked around, wondering if it was even appropriate for him to be talking to her. Could he get in trouble for this?
"What the hell are you doing with my daughter?" The woman's spine straightened, as she gripped her water bottle tightly.
He almost lost his footing. "Sorry?"
"I said," her voice gained grit. "What are you doing with my daughter?"
He knew where the young star got her fire from, and the proof was standing right in front of him.
"I work for her ma'am. That's it." He lowered his voice, as people walked by. "Really." The last thing he needed was for the stage manager to hear this conversation. Or worse, the other roadies.
She saw the older woman eye him up and down, eyes still hard. "She's been through a lot. I don't wanna see her get hurt anymore than she already has."
The ways that Juliette Barnes had been hurt were written all over her expressions. He wanted to push her further to elaborate, even though he knew that was entirely inappropriate.
She cocked her head at him the way Juliette had a few moments earlier, and continued. "She seems to have taken a liking to you."
His eyes furrowed confused. "I'm helping her write a song. That's it."
Her head tilted further, looking at him closer, as her face softened a bit. "She trusts you."
She does? His confusion only further grew. Where was this conversation going?
But the woman in front of him was in her own world, lost in thought. Her head nodded back and forth, like she was physically wrestling with the thoughts in her head. Before he could ask her if she was alright, her eyes zoned in on him directly. This time, she looked at him like she had never seen him before.
"You know, Juliette hasn't had a lot of friends growing up. Ever." Her head sunk down. "I know it was my fault now, I can see it."
He wanted to cut the conversation short. This was entirely too long and too personal. But his feet remained rooted to the ground.
"Everything bad in her life is because of me. It's my fault. And now it's too late." Her shoulders clenched in resignation. "It's too late."
"It's never too late." His voice spit out quickly.
She ran her fingers nervously through her hair, which looked dull and tangled. "I like that."
"It's what I like to tell myself." He said honestly. If life was inevitable, he was in for a screwed up future for sure. And he'd be damned if he was resigned to that kind of future. He wanted more. Always had, always would.
Putting her hands on her hips, she looked at him again, breaking out in a short laugh. "She's gonna need you."
His mind filled with confusion. "Sorry?"
"My daughter." She nodded, as if in her own world again. Her focus drew in and out, and he wondered if he should get Juliette from her dressing room. Or the tour doctor. Anyone. "She's gonna need you."
He backed away, as if he had been burned.
But the woman moved forward, stopping herself short of grabbing his arm. Was this woman having a mental breakdown right here? The witnessing of her mind unraveling was frightening and fascinating at the same time. "I'm not sure I know what you mean. Maybe I should get your daughter from her room?" He made a move towards Juliette's dressing room before the older woman actually did grab his arm.
"No." Her eyes flittered, scurrying like under siege. "Please. Don't get her."
He could feel turmoil rolling off the woman's every move. Looking down at the hand on his arm, his voice softened. "I think you need to talk to someone."
The woman scoffed, letting go of him. "I've made it about me for far too long now. I've made her think about me all her life. It's time she thinks about her. It's time I think about her."
Behind the instability, all he could see in those words was love rooted in regret. And it struck a chord with him.
"Maybe you could tell her that?" He couldn't figure out why he was saying this. He should have just called Juliette out of her dressing room. But something in him made him respect the woman's request.
She unscrewed the top of her water, taking a long sip, ignoring his comment. "How about you tell me something son. What did you think about Dante Rivas?"
He could have sworn for a second he had seen Juliette in the way the woman in front of him had changed the topic.
"Mr. Rivas?" he furrowed his eyes confused. He thought back to the way the guy circled around Juliette like a vulture looking for his kill. The way he suddenly disappeared, and the way Juliette seemed to carry a heavy weight on her shoulders every moment since he had left.
And even though he should have given a diplomatic answer, his defiance spewed out. "Between you and me… he's an ass."
A wide smile broke across the face of the older woman. "Right answer."