Beats of the Heart [MxM]

4. Baby Scratch

The next morning, Miles woke early but sore.  He had helped Danny unpack everything on the top floor of the townhouse. Danny was ecstatic to have a place he could call his own. He had insisted on finding a new place soon, but Miles convinced him to relax and focus on school first. 

He walked out of his shower and wiped his hand over the fogged mirror. His hand ran over his jaw, and he considered for a moment shaving his beard but shook his head. The maintenance wasn't worth it. He examined his other features, realizing how set apart he was from Danny and the other elitists of the Anderson circle.

He ran his fingers over the tattoos on his arms. It was a cohesive mural running up his arms and across his chest. The design also wrapped around his shoulders, covered his back, and continued down his legs. He loved every line and detail.

However, when he was simply Miles Mendez, he covered up. Long-sleeved shirts were a staple in his closet. Also, he could wear a suit and tie to cover every last piece of ink and blend into society when his father deemed it fitting.

He despised Larry. There was no sugarcoating it. However, he endured the pointless dinners, stuffy parties, and snide remarks to appease Delma and to be present for Danny. Perhaps one day, he would break free—expose his tattoos, reveal his business, and unmask the DJ.

He snapped his attention to his ringing phone and sighed when he saw that it was one of the DJs he worked with on his label. There was no rest for the wicked, especially when running your own record label.

"Phase, it's real fucking early on a Sunday." His gravelly voice was even deeper than usual because of the early hour.

"I know, bossman, but I got a really sick idea for a new mix," his voice was more excited than usual.

Miles only had a handful of people who signed to his label, but they were all DJs. Trance, house, hip-hop—he would try to help anyone who had a passion for their music and worked with turntables and beats.

He knew from personal experience how hard it was to create your own music, making it uniquely yours, especially with a large conglomerate bearing down on you. Many agencies Miles tried to sign with were like that. If he did succumb to them, he would lose all concept of himself.

Dirge Records started as a simple record label, focusing on creating his albums and marketing them. However, his passion for helping the people around him grow had turned into something else entirely. He started to guide them, help them develop and began to set up performances and tours. What started as a record label had turned into a small-scale agency.

His DJs knew that he was stepping beyond the realm of his job description. More often than naught, he was out of his scope. However, his artists were grateful and loyal because of his efforts. Additionally, they all respected him and his ideas, even when they had no idea that he was Requiem. The only ones who knew that secret were those who stood by him when he started out, Eve and Desmond.