It Never Seems
Are you guys getting tired of my sincerest apologies for the long wait? Lol. I hope not, because I am sorry that my time-management could do a little better but I'm working around with everything I have. This one is long, and I hope it makes up for the wait.
CAli
Ch. 8 – The Reveal
May 13, 2009 – The Northwest
Nathan tiredly sighed as he slightly grimaced when he pulled himself up. His ankle throbbed and he didn't even want to look how swollen it might have been. He almost over exerted himself in last night's game and barely got the 35-point requirement that loomed over him. Now he finally had some rest, but his mind reeled.
Today could be his boy's birthday and there was nothing he could do about it.
He sighed again as he gingerly put pressure on his right foot. He hissed between his teeth but made sure it was low in case someone came by the team's locker room. He quickly shifted his weight to his left side as he lifted his right and kept his balance as he gripped the wooden slate near his cubby. He rested his forehead over his folded hands and deeply breathed through his nose. His eyes closed as he imagined what his son looked like now once again then started to even his breathing. Slowly and tenderly, he put his right foot down again and eased weight onto his right side until it was even.
He happily sighed as the pain was dull now and he moved a pace at a time towards the exit. He was relieved that practice today was just weight training so he spent the last two hours laying down or sitting as he pumped his arms at an alarming rate. Several times Tony asked him to slow down as he looked on in concern but he ignored him as the sweat poured and wouldn't stop until the salty perspiration practically blinded his eyesight. He purposely let the team leave before him as he hobbled into the locker room and soaked his tight muscles in a bathtub of ice. He literally felt his whole body sting then sigh as the coldness targeted the tight muscles that threatened to be torn if he pushed himself just a little bit harder.
He stayed until his fingers started to prune and goosebumps magically appeared along both sides of his forearms. He grunted as he felt his ankle still tender but breathed through the pain as he dressed himself and wallowed his agony over his son's would-be birthday. After an hour, he was fully dressed and the pain was manageable as he wobbled down the hall to his car.
"Hey, Keith!"
He immediately stopped and straightened his back within a second interval and greatly sighed as he rolled his eyes. He cracked his jaw as he looked over his shoulder and glared at Tony who called him. He was in the conference room with the other teammates, right in the middle of the half-circle that crowded the pull-down screen meant for the projector.
"Come join us, Carl's niece is going to show any minute. And this kid is pretty damn cute," Tony waved his hand for him to come over and he had a gentle grin plastered as an invite.
"No," Nathan grunted. "I told you, I don't want to."
"Come on, the team's here. It wouldn't be complete without you."
Nathan gave him a stern look and shook his head once again. He turned his head again and briefly closed his eyes as he took several breaths to school his gait that his walking was normal. Last thing he needed was Tony noticing his fucked-up ankle and reporting it to the trainer or even worse, a doctor. He was sure if he didn't get an ace bandage and elevation on his foot soon, his ankle would be broken. He was about to take a step forward when he heard, indistant, a little boy's giggle. He hesitated, turned his head over his shoulder again and tried to look over the sea of Black heads that crowded his eyesight. All he saw, though, was the back of sandy blond hair on a little boy as he ran off. He frowned but shook his head as to get rid of the tiny feeling that just dropped in his stomach and moved forward.
He prayed he wasn't limping but for the rest of the day that giggle stuck and even haunted his dreams that night.
May 13, 2009 – The South
"Best birthday ever!" Jamie practically screamed in Haley's ear and this time she didn't mind it.
It was long day tomorrow and she was exhausted but that big ol' grin that seemed permanently stitched onto her son's face made her forget everything about herself and focused on her son. When it came down to it, Jamie was her world; she would do anything any mother would do that was in love with their children. She smothered Jamie with kisses as she tucked him in then pulled back with a gentle, closed-lip smile that practically screamed her love. She smoothed back his sandy blond hair –that was starting to get darker in the roots – several times with gentle caresses that ended up cupping his jaw. Her heart was thumping with pride as she stared into the blue-green eyes that were exactly identical to her husband's.
As much as it pained her to be reminded how similar he looked like his father, Haley couldn't be damned as she freely stared. At times, she felt guilty for being frustrated and annoyed with her energetic son because of the hatred and anger she felt towards Nathan for leaving and having to look at those identical eyes. They were a reminder of her failed relationship and sometimes she took it out on Jamie when things got too tough. Then the cycle repeated as she felt like a horrible mother for somewhat resenting her child just because his eyes reminded her of her husband and how he left her as a single parent with a child that was too smart for his own good. She would kick herself and mourn as Jamie acted like her outbursts didn't faze him and he showered her with love (his favorite was to wrap his arms around her neck and peck her several times on the mouth.) She'd wallowed and cried more times than not to Lucas about her shame and he constantly reminded her that it was normal; single mothers went through the same ups and downs of parenthood and was quick to remind her that she if something were to happen to Jamie she'd drop everything in less than second to love, protect, and nurture her son.
"You're a great mother, Hales," he always said. "No one said parenthood was going to be easy and you're kicking its ass."
"Momma," Jamie said as he brought her out of her memories. "Can I have a Twitter account?"
Haley gave him a weird look and laughed outright. "What?" She asked. "What is that?"
"Uncle Lokus says it's a social media thingy. Basically, I get to talk to people all around the world."
"And why do you want that?" She gave him an amused look.
He still had his toothy grin plastered throughout the day but it seemed to get wider when she asked him. He gave her the infamous "momma, it's okay, I know I'm smarter than you" look and even patted the back of her hand that was on his cheek.
"Because," he elongated the word. "I get to tell people to vote for you on American Idol. Uncle Lokus says it could help get the word spread how great you are. You're the World's Best Momma! That will be my first tweet."
She closed her eyes as she chuckled and there it was again. The same flutter that quickly expanded in her ribcage that she could only describe as love and pride. She felt it when he was born as Lucas presented him to her, every time he did something super smart for his age, every birthday and Christmas, and every time he made her feel better with just looking at her with his sparkling eyes and lovable kisses. Her emotions were getting the best of her as she felt spontaneous tears building inside her eyes. She swallowed and opened her warm brown eyes and stared deep into his blue ones. She gave him a watery smile as she flashed the top row of her teeth as she leaned in again kissed everywhere her lips could touch on his face. He giggled and reveled in the love as he wrapped his small hands over the back of her neck.
"You," she kissed him one more time before she pulled back. "are the world's best son. I want you to know, baby, that if this singing thing doesn't work out, I'm going to do whatever I have to, to give you a best life. You are my world, James Lucas Scott."
"I know, Momma. But this singing thing is going to work out. I can keep you all to myself on other things but not singing. You make all the bad things go away when you sing to me. You need to make all the bad things go away for other people too. You rocked tonight on TV."
She couldn't stop the tears now. "I love you, son."
"I love you too, Momma," he yawned. "Can I have that Twitter account?"
She laughed full out. "No, son, you're too young. Maybe in ten years but now it seems you're pooped and we got a long day tomorrow. First time on an airplane! Are you excited?"
"Uh-huh!" He responded with enthusiasm but he yawned shortly after.
"Okay, birthday boy," she said as she kissed his forehead and stroked his cheek again. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow. I love you."
His eyes closed and he murmured, "Love you too, momma. Sweet dreams."
She stayed kneeled at his bed with a soft smile etched on her lips. She stayed until the pressure on her chest eased just a little but she still felt her pride swell. As much as she told herself not to get too into the singing competition, she couldn't stop that need to do this. Music was slowly inching back into her life and heart but her main focus was to do it for her son. That was enough and she hoped she had what it took to win this thing.
May 27, 2009 – The Northwest
Dante had that grin on his face that was always trouble. It was his signature mark that simply said he was willing to do anything beyond legal and moral to get what he wanted. He knew this was the business for him since the time he learned how to grin like that, at the tender age of two when he smashed a toy into another toddler's face because he wanted to play with it too. The best was that he got away with it because of that innocent (yet if closely looked at had large traces of evilness) look. He leaned his chair as possible back as he stretched his legs on top of his desk with his hands clasped behind his head and his dark eyes danced as he followed Nathan's fluid movements on the television screen that was perched on the high corner of his makeshift office.
The guy was a true talent when it came to basketball and if he had a heart, he'd felt bad for blackmailing the guy. He was great, despite his threats to be better, but he always noticed the hollow, dead look in his eyes that once in a while sparked that emotion to kill him. He often compared Nathan to a dog that was that close to turning on his faithfulness; a dog beaten too many times and was one beating away from not giving a fuck and letting their instincts taking over. He should fear the common metaphor of never making a habit of beating a dog but he didn't. Fear wasn't anything comprehensible to him, not even when he crashed that car and thought for a split second that his life was over. The thing about Nathan and him being a dog that would never turn on him was that he was coward and they both knew it.
Dante knew what buttons to push and how to keep him focused as an "employee" to him because of one man. When Dan Scott appeared to him a couple weeks after his accident, he had no idea who he was or what he indebted to him. It was Dan who pulled him out of that car when he blacked out once the front of his car compacted against the wall and the last thought was that he died because of some teenage punk-ass that decided he was going to be a noble man for his wife and child. Like, seriously, who the hell wanted to be married at 16? When he woke up and Dan loomed over him and informed him that he saved him, he got straight to the point, which he respected in any business man. Maybe he was emotional, but he seethed that he was out of commission for weeks because of some White, Southern piece of shit that sacrificed a worthy game that had the net worth of $100,000 because it was wrong. His business suffered, he had concussion, several broken ribs, three breaks in his right leg and a shattered left forearm. So when Dan Scott, his own fucking father, made an offer he took it without an inner deliberation. Forget Dan's eerie voice made it sound like it was debt owed, he was going to make that pussy, little bitch realize just how much it was a mistake to screw him over.
Four years later, he still enjoyed making Nathan's life as puny as he saw him. He had no idea why Dan wanted a four-year sentence but as far as he was concerned, he already held his end of the bargain so after the period was up, he was still going to use the hollow Nathan Scott. His hunger of revenge never really eased up since he first met him and he couldn't help the appetite that suddenly emerged with every fiber of his being every time he looked at Nathan. He wasn't the type of man that easily forgave and he never forgot. He would hold a vendetta until someone murdered his cold heart. His evil grin widened as Nathan caught an alley-hoop and dunked it one-handed on the TV.
Footsteps echoed on the concrete and squeaked just a little because of the drizzle outside. The warehouse was dank as always and had a cloud of weariness that outcasted the general area. There were streams of sunlight but never fully penetrated because of the gray clouds that loomed the endless droplets of rain. He reveled in the mood the weather provided because it was perfect for his personality and line of work. The depression the weather could influence actually made him happy, and at times he felt he could feed off it. A simple deep breath and he was energized and inspired to make Nathan's life have no meaning. He loved the power that he could suck the soul out of his indentured slave and he almost wished that he would fight back. Almost.
Dante purposely ignored his visitor until commercial break. There was a certain mutual respect between himself and the man that patiently waited because of their common denominator. He could treat Dan Scott however he wanted because he enjoyed stripping his son's meaning of life and Dan seemed like he gleefully loved it too. There were many things he and Dan had in common, one being the morally-challenged treatments of other human beings, and if he thought about it really, if the man before him enjoyed inflicting pain on his own blood, what was he capable of if it was a stranger? He suspected that if they wrote ideas down on separate papers, they would mirror in tactics and scored several creative points in planning and execution. He knew Nathan's father was just like him, so he had no qualms of acting like a menacing boss, because if the situation was reversed, he knew the man waiting would do the same as he was now.
Once the commercial sounded, he barely tilted his head and regarded Dan with the same happy, psychotic grin. He made a show of stretching his arms before placing his left elbow onto the desk and rested his chin on the inside of his palm.
"Your boy is amazing when he's miserable," he said as a greeting.
"Indeed he is," Dan responded with a once nod.
"Imagine if he was happy with his wife and kid."
"Why did you call me here? I don't have time for your foolishness."
"My foolishness? You know, I consider you an evil genius like myself, but you do know your son's contract is almost up. What makes you think Nathan won't be crawling back like his pathetic self and beg his wife to take him back?"
"I would hope you'd done your job and strip his soul to the point where he was ashamed."
"If I didn't see gold in his talent, I would pull the trigger myself to help his suicide. My work is beyond genius with what I did to your son. You should see him," he laughed manically. "Always moping with a permanent scowl on his face and I can see it how much he wants to kill me but he can't even lift a finger. The emptiness in his eyes is beautiful to me. He's hollow, beyond a disgrace."
"Then why am I here? It seems that you're wasting my time, and I have places to be."
"Like Las Vegas?"
Dan frowned in just the slightest but he still stared at him. If possible, his lips pulled farther apart to the point laugh lines formed around his eyes. He was giddy in evil.
"I wouldn't be concerned with it," he said as he shrugged. "I called you here just to let you know that I respect you. And because of that I am extending just the little courtesy to let you know I held my end and never double-crossed you. I paid you back for the hospital bills and physical therapy, thanks to the bets Nathan made for me. When our agreement is over…"
Dan still kept the emotion-less stare but he narrowed his gaze at the slight clinch in his jaw. He had no idea why he felt elation for his big reveal or the fact he got the one-up on a man that could very much be his equal but he was smart enough to know that Dan Scott should be treated with suspicion and held at arm's length to keep him close. There wasn't wrong with healthy competition, anyway. What they were competing for, he had no idea yet.
"I'm not done with Nathan," he said with measure and glee.
Dan kept his posture and they stared for a while until a cocky smirk appeared and Dante briefly wondered if that's what he looked like, only whiter. He recognized the coldness in the smirk that practically had a calculated mask over it and he felt a shot of adrenaline course through his veins. He felt like he was gearing up for a match-up of some sort and he wasn't nervous or anxious, or the slightest bit worried. Instead, he felt everything that was synonym to happy bundled into one and he couldn't help but lick his lips as acceptance.
Dan walked away without another word and he bit his bottom lip as he watched the shadow figure disappear with the darkness. His dark eyes danced with excitement.
"I love my life," he exhaled and flicked his eyes back to the TV when another roar of applause filled the room.
He sighed proud when Nathan got a steal and made a fast-break lay-up. His faithful employee was on-point; he told him to get 40 as momentum in the Supersonics clinch into the playoffs. He wanted people to start making bets on his boy only for them to lose their money. It was classic, it was dirty, but most of all it was extraordinary money and he was a business man, after all.
May 28, 2009 – The Northwest
It was an exhausting game and Nathan barely had the energy or the will to get out of bed. Like clockwork, he glanced at the end table that kept his gun snug inside. He contemplated using it on himself but once again, that same niggling feeling stopped him from ending it all. He had another dream about that boy's giggle and it was an added stamp on what stopped him from killing himself. He couldn't explain it; that indistant giggle bothered him and nagged something dormant in the back of his mind. He wasn't annoyed with the sound, if anything he found himself stopping quite frequently with a deep frown on his face every time he walked by a TV or surrounded by young Supersonic fans. Tony wasn't helping either, with him always nose-deep in a tablet grinning and chuckling like he was watching a cute dog on a viral video that had him in awe. His teammates seemed invested in their little media devices also as they had huge grins on their faces.
He heard a couple weeks ago, Carl's niece nailed her American Idol audition so he assumed that's what made his teammates act so strange. He shook his head several times on so many occasions at how increasing stalker-ish they were becoming because of some 17-year-old girl and a stupid singing competition. When Tony tried to get him to watch, a flash of his wife singing so beautifully that night when it was just them in Karen's Café and he asked her to sing to make him feel better. He remembered the scene so vividly that all he had to do was reach out and he would gasp at how soft her skin felt against his finger tips and how captivated he was when she belt out the notes with grace and passion. That skip in his heartbeat as he watched his girl made something so tragic sound so heaven made him know at that moment he found his soul mate and the love of his life. It was that night as his breath hitched as he lightly pushed brown strands behind her ear as she played the piano that he was going to marry her.
Tears brimmed the edge of his eyes and pulled himself out of the memory when Tony asked him again to join the watch party hours before it happened. He shook his head rougher than necessary and whipped his head back as he scowled at his teammate. He would never watch the stupid show because no one could sing as good as his wife. Call it some sick devotion, but he would never betray Haley in that sense because no show was worthy of his demographic rating if he wasn't watching his love singing. So he again, he absolutely refused and cussed at Tony before stalking off to the weight room for the training. When Tony tried again after the informal practice and he turned away, determined in his vow, he heard that boyish giggle.
For weeks, the giggle haunted his dreams and subconscious and he realized some part of him was desperately holding on to it but he had no idea why. Every time Tony was devoted to his tablet, he heard it. He was intrigued but was too afraid his shadow would feast onto the curiosity as something more and it was just safer if he kept his teammate at a distance because of Dante. He resisted the urge to ask anything about what had Tony so happy go-lucky and why he kept hearing that boy's giggle every time he was near his teammates and their gadgets.
He briefly wondered if this was what insanity felt like when working for Dante for so long. Did he really latch onto something so trivial and frivolous that if a stranger analyzed his behavior, he could very well be labeled a child molester for being so focused on just a little boy's giggle? Why was he holding on to it so tight these past couple of weeks and why did he have a feeling every turn he made, that boy was nearby because there was something so beautiful and daunting in that giggle that made every part of his body pause in some sort of anticipation. Why was he so obsessed with that giggle?
Nathan sighed as he closed his eyes and cupped his hands over his face. He sat up in his king size bed and stayed completely still and wondered if he had the strength to put himself out of his misery. Again, that giggle appeared in the forefront of his conscious and that will to end it all was gone. Usually, a passing thought of his wife would do the trick to show just how much of a coward he was and he would begrudgedly get up and start another pathetic day. The last couple of weeks however were different because of that giggle he heard weeks ago. He wanted to know what he meant, but he was afraid he was really driven to insanity by his psychotic boss.
He slowly moved because of the over-exertion of last night's game and his muscles screamed in protest. He grunted and ignored the pain as he got up to take a shower and dress in a business suit. He gingerly left his house, only looking in the mirror once and noted the dead look in his eyes but transformed his signature Scott smirk and the mask was firmly in place. He drove to the Key Arena where the team meeting was to be held and sat perfectly still as his coach droned on for preparation of the playoffs; their next opponents were the Phoenix Suns and he mentally made notes on what he had to do and report the coaches' strategies to Dante before the team left late the next day.
Once again, as the meeting was dismissed, he turned the corner, the very same corner that started it all and stopped in the same spot. He heard that boy's giggle again and it sounded so clear very close to him that he whipped his head back and half expected some little lost boy looking up in awe at him. Instead, all he saw his teammates hanging back, laughing in a small circle as they socialized several hundred feet behind him. He expected to feel longing as he stared but he realized he had no emotion whatsoever. He licked his lips and started to walk away; he pulled out his cell phone, called Dante and his breath hitched several times as he walked to his car and got in. That little boy's giggle was dull and faint that was when he felt the emotion of longing and he did his best to ignore it as Dante's calculating voice boomed in his ear.
Later that night, Nathan frowned when he heard knocking on his door. He checked the time it was nearing 8:00 p.m. The four years he worked for Dante, he feared a late night visit would happen and packed another gun in his living room just in case. Something in his chest tightened that maybe tonight was the night Dante showed up unannounced and he bitterly thought how prepared he was for something to go so bad. What was the saying? There's a first time for everything and he never lived with a moment's peace.
Slowly, he took deliberate steps toward his front door, his keys gripped inside his pocket in case it was blitz attack and his breathing picked up just a little bit. He checked the eyehole but all he saw was a Black figure and adrenaline started to pump. He couldn't tell because of the blur the glass ball provided but it showed the guy's neck and chin which had the same complexion as Dante and Nathan silently calculated the height, which of course was the same as his boss. He mentally raced throughout his mind what he did to warrant a late night visit when their meeting hours before was perfectly clear: Nathan was to do dismal since bets cleared across the board that he was going to do a monster performance against the Suns.
After a deep breath, Nathan yanked his door open and allowed a sigh of relief but immediately narrowed his eyes at his visitor. Tony never stooped to visiting him at his home and he had a paranoid suspicion that his house was being watched by Dante's goons. If he was extreme, he would think his phone was bugged and small cameras followed every millimeter movement from him.
His jaw clenched and unceremoniously gripped Tony's shirt before his smile fully formed on his lips and pulled him inside. As quick as lightening, he swung his door shut with a loud bang and practically pounced on the door, fastening the three deadbolts. He blinked his eyes shut for a brief moment and tried to take a calming breath on how to handle his teammate. He hoped to God Dante's goons wouldn't see this as a big deal since they were supposed to be leaving tomorrow at 5 a.m. and that he called his teammate over as a carpool. He stayed glue to his door with bated breath and hoped another knock wouldn't come to confront him. When it was painfully obvious that he looked like a schizophrenic, he slowly peeled himself away and glared at Tony.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He said as he cracked his jaw and tensed his shoulders.
"Thought you needed company tonight," Tony simply offered.
"I don't. Leave."
"No way, man."
"Tony, I mean it, leave. I don't want you here."
"There's a suspicious looking car outside your place," Tony squared his shoulders and nodded to his windows.
Nathan's eyes widened as he stormed past Tony and guilliby looked outside himself. His blue eyes peered behind a slit of shades and sure enough he recognized the dark, classic modern sedan right across his penthouse with tinted windows. He knew the goons were inside and he went through every scenario possible and if Tony left, the outcome wouldn't be good. He closed his eyes in defeat as he muttered his displeasure.
"Shit," he said.
"You know that was a gamble," Tony said from the same spot and he turned to look at him. "That car could've been simply part of the complex across the street and I had no proof people were inside watching you. But you confirmed it. Whatever you're knee-deep in, I'm not leaving you to deal with it."
Nathan realized his mistake and tensed his shoulders. He didn't give any more physical evidence to his mistake, but simply stood full height and glared with as much hatred he could produce in his eyes as possible. He stood to his full height and subconsciously gripped his hands in a fist. Would he attack his teammate that he knew was just trying to help? Would self-preservation kick in or would he try and fool himself that he was saving Tony from Dante after he beat his face in? For a moment, he lost control and there was this haze state that clouded his mind and he couldn't really see anything. And he certainly wouldn't be accounted for his actions.
But for that moment, he lost control, he gained it back as his vision cleared and he realized he was rolling his eyes for several seconds. He slumped his shoulders in a resigned hump and flexed his fingers. He knew his eyes had the signature hollow look.
"You don't know shit," he mumbled darkly.
"I know you need someone to tell you that it's okay, Keith. I'm not giving up and I'm going to be that friend for you."
"Just stay, okay," Nathan dismissed him by turning his body towards the kitchen. "I don't care what you do, just don't talk to me. Annoying little fly."
He missed Tony's grin but he knew it was plastered on his face. He stalked to his kitchen and on auto-pilot, roughly grabbed the neck of a beer bottle, popped the cap open and chugged until his throat burned. He faintly heard his TV turned on in the living room but stayed rooted until he finished his beer. After he settled the carbohydrates in his stomach that threatened a huge belch, he gripped his counter and stretched his back as he thought of his predicament. He never wanted Tony around and if Dante's goons were a little bit more conspicuous, Tony wouldn't have noticed and he'd be fine in his lonesome. Dante already knew of his teammate's sudden invested interest but decided at that point not to do something as of yet. He made it known, however, with that eerie voice and sadistic grin that made the hairs on the back of Nathan's neck stand that he would strike when warranted and least expected. As much as he hated his life and did the most unforgivable thing to his wife and child, he'd probably go in the deep end if he got his nosy, innocent teammate killed. Tony had a wife, a child, and another on the way; if he destroyed another family, he might just finally have the guts to pull that trigger while the barrel was inside his mouth.
He grabbed another beer and this time sputtered at the end when he never took a break to breathe. He stayed in the kitchen for almost an hour, gulping any beer he had and glaring at the marble table top. Once he started to feel restless, he decided to leave the kitchen and go straight to his room while he stirred in the dark, aimlessly swimming in his misery. He was in the hallway when once again he heard that little boy's giggle. Something sparked inside him and he practically ran to the source, which was in the living room. Loud and booming, and crispy clear was that same giggle on the TV and Nathan felt his breathing become irregular. He slowly and blindly made his way to the couch that was front and center of his flat screen and his mouth went dry as he practically fell over onto the couch.
Tony definitely noticed his behavior and cranked an eyebrow up in a raise and Nathan knew he was concerning him but he couldn't be damned to look at him with an explanation ready the moment his lips formed words. He ignored Tony as his eyes fixated on the show before him and his breathing picked up to almost an hysterical rate. The little boy's giggle had a face and he knew, deep down in his soul, he never met this boy but he knew who he was. The boyish round face, the sandy blond hair that was spiked directly parallel to his light golden brown forehead and bluish-green eyes that sparkled in that pure, child glee. He swore he stopped breathing and tears filled in his eyes in anticipation.
"Keith, are you okay?" Tony asked.
"What show is this?" He said in all one, rushed breath.
Tony answered but it was all garbled nonsense as his ears fuzzed but was completely clear when the boy giggled again and threw his hands up, his right hand in that perfect, cocky stance he developed at the same age and coined his signature move when he was just an arrogant prick before he met his wife. The little boy's chubby fingers curved the same way his did and he knew. He choked on his swallow and tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks like it was race. He buried his head in his arms as his upper body collapsed onto his lap and he sobbed.
"That's my son," he said, muffled.
"What?" Tony frowned at him in concern.
He lifted his head and looked back up just in time for another close-up of his son cheering his head off at someone before him. Strong, masculine hands covered the little boy's and the camera panned up to Lucas with the biggest smile he ever saw as he cheered also, he hollers deafening on his surround sound. The camera pulled back to a shot of them together dancing in their same spot and Nathan saw the happiness in both of them. He cried harder and his sobs became stronger.
"That's my son," he said as he started rocking back and forth. "That's my boy."
"What?" Tony asked. "What are you talking about?"
Nathan couldn't speak even if he wanted to. The sobs racked every breath he took. There was no proof, but he knew that little boy was his son. He had his mother's head shape but the toothy grin and unmistakable eyes were the exact replica of him when he was that boy's age. Joy filled him that he finally got to see his son but it was soon replaced with sorrow when the circumstances tumbled like rocks going downhill. How pitiful was it that he saw his son after four years by pure serendipity chance by watching a television show?
He wasn't thinking straight the past five minutes or so as he rocked back and forth, his eyes probably puffy from the copious amount of tears. He kept his head cradled in his arms because he was aware of Tony's presence and the ever growing concern judging by the comforting hand that gripped his shoulder. He cried four years' worth of tears and hoped maybe he could die of hyperventilation because this pain? This pain, he probably couldn't handle, especially when common sense started to penetrate his hazy brain that if he saw his son on TV cheering with Lucas by his side, where was his mother, his wife? He could barely handle seeing one of them on TV after four years apart, but the two of them together? He couldn't stomach the thought even though he had to know.
His sobs turned into hiccups and he didn't want to ask, but he had to push through. He desperately zoomed inside his mind to unlock memories of Haley before he screwed up and where he felt pure happiness. He pretended he was back to sophomore year, where he first started dating Haley and he took drugs to up his performance because of his father and grandfather's pressure. He imagined he back in her bedroom where he confessed everything; his fears, his goals, what he wanted here and now and hoped to God she would be by his side, supporting him because he felt this intense need to have her in his life. He squinted behind his eyelids as he subconsciously moved his jaw to the right and he swore he felt Haley's ghost fingers caressing his cheek in comfort, whispering that everything was going to be okay, and she'd be there, no matter what.
The memory worked in calming him down and he got the tremors that raked his upper body to subsidize to light spasms. He restricted his eyelids tighter to hold to the memory and wished maybe he would go crazy enough where living in his memories was enough to be content. But he knew he had to face what was practically screaming in the forefront of his mind and with one last desperate, pathetic attempt, he tried to stay in that memory. When his body calmed down, he knew he had to confront the truth.
He turned to Tony with despair and hope in his eyes. "What show is this?" He asked.
Tony frowned at him. "How do you have a son? You won't even look at a woman."
"Please. What show is this?"
"American Idol. I'm confused, how is Jamie Scott your son?"
Jamie. His son's name was Jamie. Was it short for James? She actually gave him his last name after everything he's done? Tears still trailed down but he felt his heart lurch as he physically swallowed and his chest moved forward in the slightest. His bottom lip trembled so he quickly tucked it between his teeth and while he literally felt his eyes become glassy. The name flowed and he couldn't stop that emotion of pride even though he had no right.
"Wait," Tony interrupted his daze. "Haley James is your wife?"
He may have been a recluse but he knew the show and the revelation that his wife was on it, jumpstarted a whole lot of feelings. For the first time in years, he felt every positive emotion that Haley was doing something she loved; the strongest was pride and he felt his breath hitch even though he completely missed her singing segment. Then once again, it all came crashing down when he processed what Tony had just said.
Haley James was his wife, and he wasn't supposed to know.
His eyes widened and he knew it was stupid and futile to deny the past ten minutes and act like any of it never happened but he honestly had no alternative. He broke down and cried like a little bitch at the first sighting of his son and tried for a mental breakdown at the thought of seeing his wife too. He acted like someone of a different personality in front of an already nosy teammate. He knew it didn't look good for him to deny it, but he had no other choice because the cold fear struck him dumb at the thought of Dante knowing that Tony knew. The little piece of info could be catalyst of Tony and even though he thought of him as annoying, he had to save to his life.
Nathan shook his head and started repeating "no," as his body started to tremble again, almost as powerful as an earthquake. He started rubbing every part of his body; his face, his hair, his arms, his thighs. His fingers dug into any patch of skin in its trail. The tears started to build again as he caught a glimpse of his wife, smiling and waving then breaking into an embarrassed chuckle as she mouthed "I love you" to the camera and blew a kiss. The next shot was his son, with what looked like renewed energy jumping up and down, holding a clutched, tiny hand to his heart.
He abruptly got up and denied Tony revelation again in any way he knew how.
"No, you don't know anything," he said. "They're not my family; I don't know what you're talking about."
Tony got up too and started to precariously stalk him with his hands low and spread in a non-threating matter. The tone of his voice though steeled. "Keith, do not insult my intelligence. What is going on? Did you really leave Haley James pregnant and alone?"
"No!" Nathan roared. In a blind panic, he navigated to back-up and closed his eyes.
"Keith!"
He opened his eyes when he heard the hysteric in Tony's voice and once his actions caught up to his brain, his eyes got big and he felt the disbelief zoom throughout his body and he back away, as if he was stung. He looked at the gun in his right hand and wondered how it got there. He only closed his eyes for a second; how did he, in that quick time, slam his teammate against the wall and pin him there with the gun's nuzzle tightly pressed under his chin? He looked at the gun again and as if transfixed, started to point it dead center at his neck. He wondered what it felt like to have that powerful metal pressed against his clammy skin.
"Keith, what the fuck man?!" Tony rushed forward and grabbed the gun out his hand.
He should have put up a fight but he was frozen in every state; mentally, emotionally, and most definitely physically. Everything just shut down and the only thing he seemed to be able to have some control of was look at Tony with tear-filled eyes that were begging. He was begging for solace, denial, numbness; something to stop the suffocating feeling of personal Hell. The tears were thick and they slowly tricked down his cheeks as he sunk to his knees.
"Please," he begged. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. They're not my family, okay? For your sake and theirs, they're not my family. I didn't leave her. I didn't leave her. He's not my son. He's not my son. They can't be mine; I was never theirs. Please, Tony, please. Believe me, please. Believe me."
The more he talked, the more he practically screamed his pleas. He was crying all over again and surged forward in a praying position, his head tucked deep as he rested his bodyweight on his forearms that were flat against hardwood floor and hands tightly clasped. He heavily cried and barely acknowledged Tony on the floor with him, hugging his bent upper body and his comforted soothes that it was going to be okay.
He wished it was his wife's small body cradling him and her heaven voice telling him that it was indeed, going to be okay.
May 29, 2009 – The Northwest
The last Nathan heard before he passed out was Tony making a promise that he would hold tight inside his heart. He slept restless, finally waking up two hours after he exhausted himself. When he saw the 2:15 am holding the same blank stare at him, he knew sleep or anything else would be useless. His breathing returned to normal but his eyes still watered and that tightness squeezed his chest. He saw his family for the first time in four years and it was on a television screen. He felt everything that was related to sick.
He sighed as he bunched his sheets around his hands and just clenched as he closed his eyes to well the tears. Tears weren't going to get his family back, even if he had the will to. He knew he had to stay away even if everything inside him yearned and stretched and cried in agony to be reunited. The repercussions of just admiring in a crowd would be great because Dante had his goons at every corner around the nation. If the photos that had the crosshairs dead center on Haley's face four years ago struck fear cold in his vital organs, what would happen if Dante actually got his hands on her and his four-year-old son? He knew Dante had the sadistic personality checked just right for him to take dangerous pleasure in torturing his wife and son.
He knew it was the utmost importance that he'd stay away as far as possible. Death could be imminent for them, Tony, Lucas and even him if he even thought he could get away with just a glance in a crowded street. As much as he wanted them back, he had to walk away from the temptation.
Nathan sighed as he pushed his sheets off of him and scooted out his bed. He walked in the hallway, intent on the kitchen to finish off the case of beer (flight and practice be damned) when he stopped in the same spot where he heard Jamie's giggle. His place was completely dark but the moonlight gave a dumbed glow and he saw Tony's tablet laying on his coffee table, enticing him, just being there. Tony laid on his stomach on the couch, his head buried deep in his forearm that was folded above his head, quietly sleeping. He contemplated if Tony would get mad if he woke up and found his glorified small computer missing, but the thought of admiring from afar shouldn't hurt. He didn't jeopardize Dante's business by making contact and their life was safe if he just immensed himself with his wife's singing again. The taste should be enough to satisfy his already growing need to see his family and curb any urges to be irrational.
Without another thought, he changed his course and swiped the tablet from the table before going back to his bed. He practically dived back into his sheets and sat up, resting the small screen against his propped-up thighs. He stared at the black screen and exhaled, his breath shaky. He prayed Tony didn't have a passcode and he gripped the sides before his right hand slid up and pressed the on button. Thankfully, the screen was on sleep mode and a bluish-white light illuminated his face. He swiped his fingers across the screen and tapped until he got what he wanted. His eyes danced across the screen his curious smile soon turned into a full-blown proud grin as he read article after article about his girl.
He didn't notice when his clock ticked to 4:00 am and he was slightly startled by his loud bleeping alarm clock. He quickly slammed his nearest hand down and continued researching anything and everything he could about his wife and American Idol. Soon, the articles weren't enough, so he watched YouTube videos. He laughed at his son's cuteness, bit his lip to stop the crying when he saw Haley's audition episode and how she related Nathan's douche-ness for the whole world to hear, and stared transfixed with a small glowing smile every time he heard her sing. He went to the American Idol webpage and caught up on every episode that streamed online (the ever basketball player he was, he forced himself to check out her competition and took notes even though he knew they were way out of Haley's league) and even figured out how to illegally download tonight's episode where he couldn't stop smiling every time his wife's angelic voice powered through everyone else's and captivated the judges. He cussed out loud at anyone who criticized her, even if it was the constructive. Soon, the videos weren't enough, and he went to community boards and trolled (probably) teenagers for their whiny posts about his wife and said some pretty creative, nasty comments to defend her honor. He went to Twitter and smiled at every compliment given about his wife and son.
He quickly became obsessed and stalker-ish and he didn't care. He briefly wondered if this was what those psycho stalkers that go above and beyond for their favorite celebrity felt like. There was some sort of acknowledgement that their behavior was something that wasn't condoned in society, but they couldn't help themselves; there was something about their object of affection that brought out strong, passionate feelings that made them delusional that there was some type of relationship. In Nathan's case, there was some sort of relationship, but he felt every song Haley sung or every time she looked at the camera with this pure happiness with a hint of surprise, that she really stared in his eyes. He really felt there was a renewed relationship between them.
Was this what it was like for those groupie girls that tried to grab his attention? He once tried to go a bar with his teammates in the very beginning. He'd done well, enough to garner surprise that he was wrecking ball on the court with his jump shot and girls were all over him once he stepped over the threshold. Word had quickly spread the Supersonics starting line-up was in the building and he got swarmed by fake blonds and equally fake breasts that pushed up against the cut of their dress. He tried to enjoy the attention, but the high pitches of their voices, the annoying giggles and suffocating perfumes were too much for him. They weren't natural like his wife and memories attacked one after the other behind his closed eyelids and he felt like he was cheating just talking to these girls. He quickly stumbled out of the place and even shoved a girl who couldn't take the hint and puked all night in his bathroom.
He shook the thought of the horrible experience and quickly decided that no, he wasn't a whore that wanted their attention, his admiration for his wife and son was genuine; he'd happily be their groupie, but only of the special kind. There always had been a connection between him and Haley when they were first introduced, and now, even though they were separated, the connection was still there but with new electricity.
He just knew it.
At 4:45 a.m., Nathan caught movement in just the slightest from atop of the tablet. His eyes flicked up and there was Tony, leaning against the doorframe with an almost confused frown on his face, like for the first time he didn't know how to proceed. He just kept his stare as his wife's voice boomed through the tiny speakers and finally Tony just sighed.
"We got to go now," Tony said, quietly.
"Just let me finish this video," he responded, just as quiet. He didn't want to let go, in more ways than one.
"You stayed up all night and my tablet is probably almost drained. Just let me charge it. I promise, I'll give it back."
Nathan looked up and literally felt the vulnerability in his eyes. His eyes flicked down again and true enough, he almost drained the battery. With sad reluctance and a dejected sigh, he moved the tablet away from his thighs and held it up for Tony to take. Tony came forward and with gentle eyes, he stared into his and softly spoke, conveying he meant what he said.
"I promise, only you and I know. You'll get the tablet back, in the privacy of our hotel room in Phoenix. Come on, Keith, we gotta leave soon."
Nathan only nodded and felt lost again. He looked down and waited until Tony left the room for privacy. He only had to get over the next nine hours or so. Nine hours should've been cake compared to the years he went without his family but he couldn't stop that heavy feeling in his chest at the prospect of waiting nine hours. Like his life, it was torture.
May 28, 2009 – The Southwest
Haley took a deep breath as a small group of people crowded her at the edge of the stage. They were doing the last of the touch-ups before she went out there for her solo performance in Vegas week. This wasn't anything she felt before when she went on that small tour. The venues were smaller back then, the crowd less and more judgmental than she could stand. Her confidence throughout group numbers were only two things: her son and the very fact if she could survive a three-month tour with arrogant Chris Keller in small bars and without theatrics to cover any nervousness, then she could command the bigger stage no problem.
She had no idea how she'd breezed through the group numbers and even power housed her group without a single thought that wasn't blurred. She felt like she was in a whirlwind and when she got the praises in the group number she just smiled when they stared and gave thanks. She tightly hugged her son – who rushed her at the end of the stairs – aloof of the fact that the cameras were stationed on her and the crowd was melting because of the adorableness of the scene. She was rushed backstage after a PA announced commercial break and she was consulted with the producers on what to do next. She was rushed to backstage soundstage where she was asked to speak to the camera her thoughts on the judges' critique and what she planned to do tomorrow on the solo performances.
She spoke without an actual thought in her mind and words just flowed. Whatever she felt at the moment, she showed; elation, stunned proudness, giddiness, and she had something show-stopping for tomorrow and she needed to get started now. Her hands flew to her mouth as she snorted and leaned forward in a gesture that she was calling a baby or puppy to her. The cameraman that filmed her guffawed at the "Southern adorkableness" of her reaction which she responded with a confused look.
"Trust me, honey," he said. "The audience across the nation is gonna go nutzo over that sound bite."
She gave him a forced thank you and promptly left the room to find her son and Lucas and inform the producers she wanted to leave. They politely told her it was protocol she stayed throughout the rest of the performances and assured that she would get ample time to prepare her solo for tomorrow. It was a blur the rest of the night as she tightly snuggled Jamie to her and played with him until they were allowed back to their hotel room. By the time she slid the plastic key into the room, Jamie was passed out, clung to her neck as he slightly drooled on her shoulder. She gently tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and recruited Lucas on the other bed to scour her ITunes for the perfect song.
Here she was now, after only maybe four hours of sleep, on the edge of backstage ready to perform a song she felt that would clinch a coveted spot in the top 20. She spent the majority of the last 18 hours practicing the song over and over again until it was practically imprinted in her brain. She visualized the song, made it her own in originality, and tried different ways to convey how this song was hers. The more the pressure, the more she wanted this and she had the confidence until now.
She had a poker face on but in the pit of her stomach, a knot started forming. It spread throughout her stomach like she ate something bad that was upsetting it. She was fine until now. She knew she had the performances, the passion that showed, and the absolute heart she poured every time she made eye contact with the judges and her biggest fan, Jamie. She wanted this, and she realized the sudden nervousness that just hit made it all that real. American Idol wasn't about the fame, and it honestly wasn't about her son and giving him a better life. At the very moment, when the PA screamed 30 seconds before she was to hit the stage, American Idol was all about her unabridged passion and soul she had for music and this was her dream. Dreams were supposed to come true, right?
She wanted this; she wanted to win, she wanted to sing for people to hear and become inspired and she was going to work hard with heart and integrity to get it. Forget the millions that were going to watch, the judges that could change their mind if she turned sharp for just a millisecond, and the people that said she was cliché. The nervousness meant she was afraid, and that was a good thing. She really wanted this.
She got her cue that it was her turn and when the lights dimmed and walked forward, her heel echoing on the marble floor and the music started the slow ballad, she raised her chin and her head tilted back like she was singing to Heaven. Her eyes slowly fluttered open as the lights around the stage grew brighter around her and she walked forward, her confidence growing as she addressed the live crowd and the judges just slightly to her right, strategically in the dark so she couldn't see their scrutinized gaze as they accessed everything from her vocals to the way she wore her heels. She clinched her fist as she pounded her chest at the bridge of the song and grew strong in her notes and once she hit that high note, her eyes closed again and she moved to her right before she bent her body down and hit another powerful note. Her back moved up and down as she grooved along with the beat and moved to the other stage, hyping the crowd. She opened her eyes for the second verse and moved her free hand all over her hair as she gazed out to the crowd with vulnerability in her eyes.
She let her voice tremble right before the bridge to show how emotional the song was then stomped her foot hard on the marble stage that vibrations went up from her foot to her mid-calf. She closed her eyes as she captured that high note again and her body took control as she dropped to her knees in a spontaneous little jump. Distantly, she heard the excited gasps in the crowd and the cheering got louder as she softened her voice to a point where she was caressing the notes. She kept her eyes closed as she closed out her set with her free hand rubbing all over her hair then slowly trailing down her jaw to her neck then stopping at her heart where she flexed her fingers against the fabric.
Where there is desire
There is gonna be a flame
Where there is a flame
Someone's bound to get burned
But just because it burns
Doesn't mean you're gonna die
You've gotta get up and try, and try, and try
Gotta get up and try, and try, and try
You gotta get up and try, and try, and try
The cheers were thundering to her ears and when Ryan Seacrest helped her up and practically saw the whole auditorium rumbling because of the crowd, her smile slowly spread to an ear-splitting grin. When all four judges gave her a standing ovation, she choked a little when the tears started to form. When she made eye-contact with her son that was going wild she was afraid he might have an aneurism, she couldn't help the pure joy that spread all throughout her body as she blew him a kiss.
She never noticed Dan Scott, hidden in the darkness submerged in the cheering crowd, glaring at her with narrowed eyes.
End Chapter 8.
Twenty pages to make up for the long wait and I hope I brought the tears. Lol. Again, sorry for the wait and I really do hope I brought the epic. Things are going to get interesting from here on out. Read and review if you'd like.
Song credit – Try by Pink
CAli