BEAU

Emma's hand on my thigh does nothing to calm the frantic bouncing of my leg as we sit in my dressing room, waiting until Rey gets through part of her opening act. Rocco is across the room, smoking a cigarette and running over some last minute details for a fire trick we're trying out on stage tonight.

For the first time in years of performing, I'm nervous, and it has nothing to do with the flames that will shoot up from the stage. As if on cue, Beck returns from the bathroom then and sweat gathers in my palms.

For fucks sake, why did I ask him to come?

I close my eyes tightly and run a hand through my hair, using all of my concentration to not tell Beck to just forget about it and leave.

"Man, this is so sick." Beck grins, taking a seat across from Emma and me. "You're a real life rockstar. Who would've thought?" He settles into the leather couch, peering around the dressing room another time. Jason, a member of my security detail, never takes his eyes from Beck's blond head, suspicion coloring his expression.

Beside me, Emma tenses up. "Anyone who has heard Beau perform would expect nothing less." Her fingers curl around mine protectively.

"You got me there." Beck rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But really, thanks for doing this. I meant what I said. I really want us -"

I stand abruptly, the familiar burn at the back of my throat intensifying the longer I sit next to my brother. Beck and Emma both eye me carefully but I ignore them, muttering something unintelligible about going to the bathroom and walking off.

Once I'm alone in the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face and stare at myself in the mirror. Sad eyes that remind me of my mother stare back at me.

"Get a grip," I groan at my reflection, beads of water dripping from my chin. "It's just a concert."

But it isn't, is it? It's Beck. Beck, the golden child, loved by parents, teachers, and coaches alike. Beck, the charmer, able to weasel his way into any girls heart, or pants, for that matter. Beck, who hated me for being weird almost as much as our father had.

Beck, who is here now trying to make amends.

My stomach lurches when it finally sinks in that I've left Beck alone with Emma. Pregnant girlfriend or no, Beck is not blind.

I nearly growl in frustration, clenching my fists around the porcelain bowl of the sink as if I might crush it in my hands.

Maybe this has nothing to do with Beck, and everything to do with the fact that my mother is dead.

Her name engraved in that headstone burns in my memory, fanned by the idea that I wasn't there for her.

How could I have been? The other part of my mind retorts mercilessly. She never was for me.

A gentle knocking at the door makes me let go of the sink finally, my knuckles sore from gripping so hard. Wiping my face with a paper towel roughly, I open the door and see Emma standing behind it.

"You're on in five." Her big, brown eyes stare up at me, wide and full of worry. Should she be worried? The fire in my throat is scorching, the temptation to just give in a little and make everything go away growing stronger. "Are you okay?"

I wrap my arms around her waist, bare in her cropped t-shirt, and pull her close to my chest. There, that's better. I let out a deep sigh as my heart beat steadies. When I let go, we begin walking back to the dressing room.

"It's one night hanging out with my brother. How bad can it be?" I roll my eyes, images of plenty of childhood nights gone wrong running through my mind. Beck's friends were cruel and when it came down to it, Beck was a coward. I shrug, "Besides, this is the first time we've gone out in awhile. I plan on enjoying it."

Her face lights up then and she stops us in our tracks so that I really have to look at her. "I'm proud of you."

I tear my eyes away from her then, trying to hide the cheesy grin on my face. Her dainty fingers turn my chin back towards her as she tilts her face towards mine, plump lips puckered for a kiss. I oblige, savoring her taste before I go on stage.

Mmm. Better than whiskey.

Emma lets me go with a wink. I bump fists with Rocco as I sling my guitar around my shoulders, all but ignoring Beck entirely. I can feel him hovering, waiting to get a word in between sound and lighting guys flitting about, but I focus on getting into the right headspace for my show.

"Put your hands together for Boston's very own," Rey shouts happily into her mic, her band already filing off stage.

"Beau?" Beck calls from behind me. I pause and look over my shoulder. "Uh," Beck flushes a little as the crowd roars louder. "Knock 'em dead,"

I nod wordlessly, ignoring the weird pull in my chest, before jogging on stage just as Rey screams, "Beau Lewis!"

The audience is deafening, screaming so loudly that I can feel the vibrations through the floor. I smirk, beginning to strum out the beginning notes of one of my favorite songs to perform. Fast paced and intense, it'll get the crowd's blood pumping for the rest of the show.

As the rest of the guys join in on drums and bass, I start singing the opening verse and stop again when I hear the fans shouting the lyrics with me. Flames shoot up from the stage in huge, fiery columns and my breath quickens with excitement as sweat beads across my skin. As I begin belting out the chorus, the fans chant the words in time and I feel connected to each blurry face staring back at me.

The anxiety I had felt about performing in front of Beck fades, replaced by the strong sense of belonging that I only feel when I'm on stage or when I'm with Emma. Muscle memory takes over and my fingers pluck the right chords as I crash my head to the beat. Losing myself in the music is as easy as it's ever been once I'm a song or two into my set, and all that's left is me, the music, and the fans.

***

Emma is at the bar, ordering us a couple of drinks. She leans over the bar to put a few bills in the tip jar but I can't tear my eyes from her long legs, put on display in her little, black skirt. The adrenaline from my show still coursing through my veins, I grit my teeth in concentration, trying my damndest to not take her home right now.

"So, you and Emma?" Beck's eyes follow mine and my fists clench against my thighs. His brows raise a little as his gaze rests on her ass and I feel my lip curl up in a snarl.

"What about it?" I snap, bringing his attention back to me.

His blond hair falls into his eyes as he stares at his fingers. When he finally meets my glare, he smiles a little.

"She seems good for you."

I scoff, rolling my eyes up to the ceiling, illuminated by bright, multicolored lights. The DJ transitions into some techno crap and club goers swarm the dance floor, shaking our table.

"What?" Beck asks, scooting over in the booth as Rey rejoins us, back from her trip to the bathroom. I stare at her suspiciously, but she won't look me in the eye.

"You," I shrug, looking back to the bar for Emma. Returning to our table, a few bottled waters tucked under her arms and sodas in her hands, she grins at me, seductive in the dim bar lighting. "You pretending to care about what's good for me. It's just funny."

Rey makes a loud slurping noise with her straw, keeping her head lowered. Scott whispers something to her and she giggles.

I turn my attention back to Beck and his face crumbles. "Beau, I can't change what's happened between us. If I could, I would."

Emma gently rests the sodas on the table now, leaning in so close that I can smell her shampoo. I inhale deeply, something hot stirring in the base of my abdomen. When the drinks are safely on the table, I loop an arm around her waist and pull her into my lap. Resting my chin on her shoulder, I meet Beck's pleading gaze with indifference.

"I wouldn't." I shrug, planting a kiss on Emma's jawbone. She blushes, her blood warm against my kiss, but turns so her mouth is on mine. My fingers trail up the delicate skin over her spine, under her cropped shirt and the thin lace of her bra. She stills and I remove my hand, tugging her bottom lip in my teeth before finally leaning away.

More of that later, I smirk to myself.

Beck clears his throat across the table, his eyes downcast. Feeling particularly snarky tonight, I knock on the table to get his attention.

"Where's your girl? She doesn't mind being pregnant at home while you're shitting around?"

"Beau," Emma nudges my ribs with her elbow, but I ignore her, nestling in closer, eyes trained on Beck's face.

He grins awkwardly, "She understands that I'm trying to get to know my brother."

"Who is the lucky lady, anyways?" I deflect, raising my brows at him. "Do I know her?" I push at Beck's buttons, quietly pleased at the frown turning the corner of his mouth down. I don't buy his "get to know me" act, not really. I don't know why I'd asked him to come to the show - it was a moment of weakness after visiting my mother's grave, I suppose. Still, Dr. Dex nags at me in my subconscious, reminding me that forgiveness is a step in the process of getting through my shit.

Standing and pulling some cash from his wallet, Beck shakes his head. "You do, actually. But I don't think you care about that." He pulls his leather jacket on and shrugs. "Thanks for inviting me, Beau. You were... You were something else. Dad, me, everyone... We were all wrong about you, man."

He turns and walks towards the door and my mood deflates. That hadn't been as fun as I'd been hoping it would be.

Emma shifts in my lap, her blonde hair forming a wall between us and the rest of the club. She places a soft hand on my cheek, her eyes searching my face.

"What?" I sigh, leaning my forehead against hers. She says nothing, full lips tightly pressed together, but I know what she's thinking. I roll my eyes again, knowing that she's right. She always is. Wrestling with myself, I finally slide her onto the booth and follow after Beck.

The cool air is refreshing on my face once I'm through the exit. I scan the groups waiting for their rides and find Beck, smoking a cigarette against the wall of the club. Reluctantly, I lean against the wall beside him, keeping my eyes forward on the drunken girls stumbling along the sidewalk.

"So, Beck 'my-body-is-my-temple' Lewis smokes now, huh?" I scoff, kicking the heel of my boot against the wall.

"Ah," Beck waves me off. "I have since I lost my football scholarship junior year." My eyes flash to his face involuntarily. He nods, "Yeah. Busted my knee. Never was the same," He peers at me from the corner of his eye, a sheepish grin on his face.

"How the mighty have fallen," I mutter, forcing a chuckle. A young woman approaches, mouth open wide in excitement. The smell of booze permeates the atmosphere around her and I hold my breath.

"Beau Lewis! Can I get a picture?" She waves her phone in my face obnoxiously. Beck looks her up and down, an amused grin on his lips.

I grunt a noncommittal response, smirking awkwardly as the camera flashes. The woman's hair leaves an oily streak on my cheek and I grimace as she hops away, back to her friends.

"That's so weird, man." Beck shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck over and over. "My brother the rock star. Hey, you remember that summer Dad took us to his friend's house in Maine?"

"I don't think it was his friends', Beck." I sigh. "But yeah."

"I remember the first day, we went out on the kayak, just me and you. We were fishing and I just remember thinking, 'I wish it could always be like this.'" Beck drops his cigarette to the ground, snubbing out the embers with his boot. "No Mom and Dad fighting, just you and me."

I allow myself to smile a sad, half smile, and nod. "Yeah, Beck, I do. Do you remember that Dad let you bring your friends? You guys convinced me we'd go skinny dipping, and stole all my clothes so I had to run home naked. Dad was so mad at me... for letting the big kids make me look weak." I let the smile fall. "And you watched while he gave me hell, not saying anything."

Beck blinks a few times, tilting his head back against the wall. "Ah, shit, Beau. I'm really sorry." His brows pull together over his eyes.

Something tells me not to trust him - my guarded subconscious probably. But Emma's voice saying she's proud of me, and Dr. William's advice in my head push me in another direction.

My dad is an asshole, my mom is dead. And Beck, well.

Beck is here.

I nod my head in the direction of the club door. "Hey, man, come on. Everyone's waiting on us,"

Thanks for reading loves! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the little sneak peak info Beau's past. Let me know your thoughts in the comments!
More interesting things to come....