A/N: Hey, guys! Love seeing you guys getting into the parallels of the family dynamic between our two moms and their daughters.
S.K. - I see you :-)
Chase was on the couch tuning his guitar when his phone rang.
He gently put the instrument down next to him and answered.
"Dennis?"
"YO! How is it, Hollywood?"
Chase shook his head and slouched, feet resting on the coffee table.
"You maniac!" he chuckled. "Haven't heard nothing from you since I left!"
"In case you forgot I was GROUNDED for what happened!"
"I'm sorry...they grounded you for two years?"
"Well...alright more like six months."
Chase shrugged.
"That's still plenty of time."
"Oh, well, at least I wasn't made to serve my sentence in exile."
"Who am I, Napoleon?" Chase smirked.
They both laughed at the absurdity of that.
"Can you blame them?" he asked. "I mean we HAD to expect a reaction. Especially your mom; I know how she gets."
Dennis scoffed.
"Maybe I was a little too hasty to call what happened to you exile. More like a vacation?"
Chase stood up.
"Vacation?! Are you kidding me?"
"Come on, you bastard! It's already chilly as shit in the morning! Like 50 in direct sunlight! They say the winter's gonna blow here this year."
"I'm feeling that autumn over here too, smartass!"
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah," Chase chortled. "I had to wear a long sleeve shirt the other night."
There was a lengthy pause.
"AWWWW, poor motherfucker!. What's the matter, seeing all those hot girls not keeping your temperature up? Huh?"
"What girls?"
"You weren't exactly starved for attention back in home."
"I'm doing...just fine," Chase said gently steering the conversation elsewhere. "How's the old gang?"
"Bored. Nothing happens here anymore."
"What I leave and somehow took all the shits and giggles with me?"
"Mr. Vanderveer moved away. I missed him accusing random people in the neighborhood of being CIA."
Chase laughed and sat back down.
"What are you doing now?"
"Eh, we're out here. Mom's got me decorating for Halloween. She's making me stay for the trick or treaters. But after nine, the real fun begins."
Chase rubbed the back of his neck.
"Still doing those old pranks?"
"Come on, you big puss! They're classics!"
"One of these days, you're gonna have to grow up man."
"Thanks, dad" Dennis teased.
A mild chatter could be heard off to the side. Somebody was talking to Dennis, but Chase couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying.
"Everything ok?" he asked.
"What? Yeah. Mom's giving me the big hang up the phone sign, so I have to go."
"Alright, later."
"Yeah, later."
Dennis Dillon was an old friend. The kind you look back on either fondly or with cringe.
Chase was on the fence about him. Actually, he hasn't even thought of him in the past year or so.
Back in the day, it was a different story.
They weren't just a pair. More of a gruesome twosome, getting into all sorts of trouble.
It was a time Chase would mostly like to forget.
[FLASHBACK]
"I'm grounded, aren't I?"
Jim glowered at his son. He couldn't believe how flippant he was being right now. Or maybe he could.
"Boy, you're lucky I don't chain you to a cinder block outside!"
Chase didn't break eye contact. He tried not to blink (he heard that it was a tactic to annoy people) but the dryness of his eyes was too much, and he gave in.
You could cut the tension in the police station with a knife. Weren't even any cops present in the room.
Just father and son.
"I can't even...JESUS CHRIST, CHASE! You stole a car!"
The young teen leaned back, rolling his eyes. His movements were somewhat limited given the handcuffs. And he's been sitting for so long waiting that his legs have fallen asleep. Any attempt to stand now would be a comedy of errors.
"Didn't know it was stolen, pops. Wouldn't have gotten in if I did."
Chase held up his cuffed wrists.
"'Cuz I knew this could happen. Not that big an idiot."
Jim folded his arms and snorted.
"Sometimes I wonder."
"Thanks for the confidence, pop. Really."
The large father rolled up toward him. Not gonna lie, the kid did flinch.
"JAMES!"
He stopped short of throttling the boy when his wife entered the room.
"I leave to get some coffee and you're already starting?"
Jim gestured toward their son who was arrested hours ago.
"You're not mad, Sheri?" he asked, wide-eyed.
Sheri gave Chase that look only a mother could give.
"Oh, I'm furious. But let's curtail the corporal punishment. I don't need both my boys in handcuffs!"
She handed her husband one of the cups she brought and started sipping her own.
The mom sighed with her eyes shut, mentally lining up her ducks. This isn't a situation she expected to be in...ever. But Chase's behavior has spiraled out of control. Hanging out with Dennis and his dumbass cousins have only exacerbated matters.
It started small: whoopie cushions and fake dog crap. But the pranks began to escalate and were no longer harmless fun. Soon, Chase was setting off stink bombs in school or swapping the mail in the boxes around the neighborhood or even capturing a pigeon and releasing it in the cafeteria. Sufficient to say, Chase had to change schools. But there he met with Dennis and the rest, they say, is history.
That was when he became a regular customer for the Nashville PD.
Chase got dropped off home by the cops every other week. His parents figured he must have done more than he hadn't been caught doing.
That was the other thing. Pretty much all of Chase's exploits were done in secret, even under cover of night. One day, that all changed.
On a spring morning, some kids conspired to get back at Chase for one of his pranks. They called in a threat at the school and the police showed up. Everyone was ordered to stay in their classrooms until given the all-clear. Finding nobody suspicious roaming around, the cops began checking lockers. The tipoff mentioned Chase Brooks, so they naturally checked out his locker. No evidence of violence, but they found drugs. Those kids planted weed in there. He was removed from class into police custody in front of everyone.
Later on, the real culprits were apprehended. They didn't anticipate that their fake threat phone call would have been traced back to a student's cell. Once the boy was caught, he sang and gave away his co-conspirators. Despite being exonerated, Chase couldn't show his face at school again. He was utterly humiliated. He finished eighth grade at a different middle school. Some learn about negative attention the hard way.
Things cooled down for a while with Chase and the pranks. Being on the receiving end of a really nasty one made him wise up. While he didn't perpetrate any more misdemeanors, his parents wouldn't get off his case. Especially his dad. His grades were slipping and whenever something around the house broke or went missing, he was the prime suspect.
Chase was resigned in that he completely blew his credibility, but his dad made it sound like there was no hope of getting it back. He was hanging out with Dennis more and more because not many others understood him.
It led to this night when Dennis's one cousin, Jeffy, asked if they wanted a ride. The car was a yellow Porsche. Dennis didn't even know he could drive let alone had a car. Jeffy cackled and told the boys that this car isn't his. Chase asked what he meant, and Jeffy admits that he's a valet and on occasion he "borrows" one of the fancy vehicles left by the patrons. But he always brings it back within the hour after joyriding.
Dennis laughs while Chase asks to be let out. Instead, Jeffy accelerates in speed, bringing the attention of an officer behind a McDonald's. It didn't take long for the policeman to figure out this car was not his and he didn't have proof of permission to drive it. And so, the three were detained.
"What happens to me?" asked Chase.
Sheri walked closer to him.
"I talked with the officer who arrested you boys. It was the older one...Jeffy? He was the one who purloined the car."
"So, we're good?"
She looked concerned at Jim.
"I don't think it's that easy," his father said.
Chase looked around, confused.
"What? Why?"
"We were discussing this on the way after we got the call," Sheri said. "We're worried about you, Chase."
"What does that mean?" the teen asked. "I'm fine."
"NO, YOU'RE NOT!" Jim protested. "You are handcuffed after being an accomplice in grand theft auto! Do you understand how serious this is?"
Chase said nothing.
"No, of course you don't," he huffed. "Just a dumbass who can't stay out of trouble!"
Jim stormed out of the room, leaving Sheri and Chase.
"He doesn't mean it," she said.
"Oh, yes he does."
Sheri put her hand on her son's head.
"I don't where we went wrong..."
"Mom, it wasn't you!" Chase insisted.
"Then what is wrong? You don't tell me what's bothering you. I just get random calls from neighbors or police that you're in some kind of trouble that you created!"
Chase stared at the floor for a solid minute.
"Mom, I'm sorry."
Sheri sighed and sat in a chair across from Chase.
"We're way past sorry, hun. I don't know how it started but I'm ending it! The pattern dies tonight."
"Pattern?"
"Tomorrow, we're going to have your transcript sent over to Los Angeles."
He blinked.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa...California?! Why?"
"Listen, Chase, this has been a long time coming. You need to turn yourself around. My great aunt got a fresh start, and it was helped when she moved out to Missouri. So perhaps a change of pace would help you."
Chase rolled his eyes.
"So, you're just gonna send me away then?"
"Don't think of it as a punishment, Chase. Think of it as an opportunity to get away from all this negativity and better yourself."
"Where would I even stay?" he asked.
"My brother," she replied.
"Uncle Neil?" Chase's eyes bugged out. "I haven't seen him since I was little."
Sheri sat up and poked her head out to ask for an officer to help her get Chase out of his restraints.
"Mom, mom, you can't!"
"I've already talked with your uncle."
"This is bullshit!"
She ran over to him and slapped his cheek.
"Language, young man!"
Chase emigrated to California, and it was more than an adjustment. He might as well had been dropped off on Mars. This place was way different than Tennessee, where he always lived up to that point.
The first night after his icy conversation over dinner with his Uncle Neil, Chase opened the window and snuck his way through. He had a backpack with his stuff and some cash he planned to take the next Greyhound back east.
Once his feet hit the ground, he turned to see his uncle.
"Nice night," Neil smirked. "Or should I say good night? Like get your ass back in that bed, mister and goodnight."
Chase grumbled and obeyed.
This happened for a couple of weeks. Chase would try to leave and would either be caught right away or just after thinking he finally gave Neil the slip. One night, he got as far as the bus depot and Neil confronted him before he was about to board.
"What's your plan?" he asked his nephew.
"Getting away from here."
He dragged Chase off the bus and waved the driver to leave.
Pissed, Chase sat on the bench. Neil sat beside him and remained there in silence until he decided to speak.
"I'll ask you again, what was your plan?"
Chase shrugged.
"You know, being on the other side of the country, it's oh so obvious. But believe me, kid, you were doing the same thing back in Nashville."
"What's that?" he huffed.
"Running," replied Neil. "You've been running your whole damn life."
"The hell are you talking about?"
Neil gave him a look.
"You're afraid of what's inside. Your feelings, your fears, maybe you don't exactly know what you want yet. But the shit you've been pulling...the human garbage you've been associating with...let me tell you, you're not gonna find the answers going in circles like that."
His uncle stretched.
"I moved out here because I found home didn't feel like home anymore. So, I went in search of myself, and I found it right here. Now, maybe this town isn't for you. Maybe you'd be happier someplace else. But that's the long and short of it: happy. You are clearly not happy back there. It's just...what's the word...unacceptable."
"Sorry I'm a lost cause."
"That's your father talking," Neil countered.
They sat for a while longer, just silently people watching as they came on and off various busses going to who knows where.
Neil checked his watch. It was 1:30 in the morning.
"Feeling hungry?" he asked.
Chase held his grumbling stomach.
"See? Your ass was about to go on a long trip on an empty tank. That would have been miserable."
The teen smiled and stood up.
"Let's go. I know a diner that's open all night. I'm thinking pancakes...and burgers."
"What?" asked Chase.
"Duh, too late for dinner but too early for breakfast. I call this meal: Fuck-It."
He laughed at that and joined his uncle.
[END OF FLASHBACK]
Chase's phone dinged and he held it up to look.
A text from a number he didn't recognize.
But before he could open it, an email popped into his inbox. That got his attention right away because it said it was from the contest promoter.
He swallowed before opening it:
CONGRATULATIONS!
Your original song has been selected as a finalist!
You are invited to perform your own song LIVE!
SAVE THE DATE: Saturday, March 1, 2031 at The Cataclysm.
There we will find out who wins the Hollywood Junior Songwriting Competition!
See you soon!
Chase thought he was going to pass out.
Next Spring was months away, but it didn't matter; it might as well be tomorrow. Chase's heart was pumping like a madman.
He shook as he dialed for Lauren.
"Hey!"
"H-h-hey," he stuttered.
"What's up?"
"Are you sitting down?"