Chapter Twenty Two-
Moth
"I'm not trying to get you in trouble with him. He's just an ass." Ginny whispers to me as we 'silently read' in our English class. Speaking of which, it's fancy books like Pride and Prejudice that make me miss reading Into the Wild at my shitty New York public school. I wonder if Frankie still has the copy from my bookshelf that I always saw him reading when I'd wake up from naps.
"I told you it's fine. He doesn't scare me. I mean come on, the kid's name is Tobias and he looks like a show poodle." I comment, making her snicker and the teacher shush us. I lower my voice before continuing. "Though I'm not sure why you're dating someone like that when you're clearly out of his league."
She sighs and shrugs. "Most of the kids who go here are rich. They're not exactly friendly to people here on scholarships. Dating Toby keeps me from being a target. Honestly, he's not as bad as he seems. He's just a little insecure and the attention he gets from his friends is the only attention he gets from anyone. He wants to keep them entertained and they like beating people up."
"I'm going to kick his ass today," I inform her, watching the clock. I need my revenge somehow and it's been long enough to take him by surprise.
"Don't break his face too much. I like being able to look at something pretty when he takes me on dates."
"No promises."
We sit silently until the bell rings. I practically sprint out of the room when I hear it and make my way to the boys' locker room. There's no gym class this period, and it also happens to be the only time Tobias walks by without his little lackeys. I want it to be a fair fight.
I wait a few minutes, watching kids scramble past to get to their classes. As the rush dies down, I peek my head out slightly, seeing Tobias walk closer. Once he's near enough for me to pull him into the room, I do, taking the lacrosse stick from his bag as I shut the door.
He stumbles into the room, falling onto his knees with me between him and the door. He whips his head around to glare at me before getting back to his feet. He looks at the lacrosse stick in my hand and shifts nervously before dropping his bag on the ground. "Is this supposed to be payback or something?"
"No. If I wanted payback I would've got two more guys to help beat you with lacrosse sticks." I explain, pointing the end of the stick at him with a smirk on my lips.
It's a bit worrisome how sick of a thrill I get when guys like him look at me like that. It's the same feeling that got me into so many fights with Mason and his friends. I don't pick fights for no reason, but I can admit that I let things escalate quickly because part of me enjoys the violence.
I know Andrew's talked about it before and mentioned that it's why he and Fizzle have the relationship dynamic they do. Since Fizzle is an adult and can make his own decisions, I don't comment on it, but their relationship is enough to make me worry about mine.
I've seen the same fear in Frankie's eyes before. I've seen it when he looks at Mason's friends and even when he looked at me the one time he saw me get into a fight with one of the football players. I could never imagine hurting Frankie the way I want to hurt the people who deserve it.
People like Tobias who's now looking at me like I'm his worst nightmare. I love the fear in his eyes, and how warranted it is. He should be scared of me. I step closer, my smirk growing wider when he steps back. "Not so tough now, are you? Well, Unlike you, I believe in being fair."
I toss the stick aside and take my jacket off, rolling up the sleeves of my button-up. He copies my action and glares at me. "You're pathetic. What's to stop me from telling my dad you're a thug who goes around jumping people?"
"You can if you want to, but you and I both know that would make you a bitch. I like to think you have enough integrity to fight fair and take your ass-kicking like a champ," I inform him.
He doesn't complain anymore which must mean he agrees. I lift my arms and clench my hands into fists, jumping forward to swing first. He ducks out of the way and the fight ensues with me hitting him as he hits me. It's easy to tell he's in sports. He's strong and athletic, but I'm used to fighting guys that are stronger than me. It just means I have to be more clever. I duck out of the way of a few punches, but after a minute, I go on the offense. I tackle him to the ground, unintentionally banging his head against one of the lockers. After a struggle, I rest my weight on him to pin him down, punching him a few times as my anger bubbles up.
I'm so used to keeping these feelings trapped below the surface. I put on a good act and never let things bother me, but after a while that box I lock my feelings in bursts open. I hate how stupid and cliche it makes me feel when I can't control my own emotions. I wish they'd just go away, but they don't.
Eventually, it boils over and I can't hide it anymore. I'm pissed at the world. I'm pissed at my dad for leaving, pissed at my mom for mentally checking out, pissed at Fizzle for ditching me, pissed at Sawyer for getting me sent away, and pissed at everyone else for everything. I wish I could take my anger out on them, but I know I can't because they haven't given me a reason to hurt them. Tobias did though, so I'll settle for taking it out on him.
I freeze when I hear him yell at me, my fist in the air as I lean over him. His face is bloody and bruised as well as my knuckles. His arms are covering his face as much as possible, and I notice the bruises there as well. "Stop! I won't hit you anymore, okay? Please stop."
I pant heavily, feeling thick blood running from my nose as the pain in my head and fist finally starts to radiate through my body. My mind flashes to Frankie. As much as I want to hit this prick again, I know Frankie wouldn't approve. He'd be begging me to stop fighting and look at me like everyone else does: like I'm a monster or a mistake.
I relax my hands as I look down at Tobias and move to climb off of him. I straighten my clothes and put my jacket back on, making sure I'm well put together "I just want you to leave me alone. The nurse's office is down the hall. Oh, and tell Ms.Penny I said 'Hi'."
***
"Good job, kid! I think that's the last take so you can come out." Ezra tells me, making me take the headphones off my head and leave the live room. He stands when I come out and high-fives me with both hands above our heads before moving them down so I can smack them again. He lets me hug him too, and ruffles my hair as I do.
It took my dad some convincing, but after showing him my increasing grades and he and Andrew both read the contract Ezra prepared, they agreed to let me sign it. I was happy that my dad listened to what I wanted.
I can admit that he's not so bad. I've been in contact with Fizzle, trying to get an idea of what my options are, and he was pretty clear about what they can legally do: nothing. Fizzle is the only other family member I have. I'm old enough to choose where I want to live, but according to the state of New York, he's homeless and unemployed.
He's living with Andrew whom he's not married to in a penthouse that doesn't have his name on it. He doesn't have a job and every cent he gets is from Andrew. They won't let me live there because if he wanted to, Andrew would be well within his rights to kick Fizzle out at any time. I know he won't, but it's a risk the government doesn't want to take.
He didn't at first, but now Fizzle thinks it's better for me too. He hated the motorcycle just as much as every other adult I'd met, and I am making way better grades here. I have a good friend, and I found a producer who sees potential in me. I miss the band... and Frankie. I think about him all day and dream about him at night, but I want to milk the opportunities I have here until Andrew can figure out how to work the system in our favor.
"How did you feel? Did you hit everything?" Ezra asks. He always gives me introspective questions. I'm not used to people asking for my opinion. Usually, they just give me theirs.
"It felt really solid. I wanted to hear it with the instruments though. I'm still not sure about them." I admit with a little frown that makes him sigh and flop back in his chair.
"I don't know if we'll ever find people to your standards. You have to remember that musicians have their own styles. These guys I brought in can play this song flawlessly. I don't understand why you hate it." Ezra has been having me record with different musicians to test them out, but we haven't found the correct group to stick to yet.
I hate how they sound; they play the right notes, but it's so obvious to me that these parts weren't written for them. I wrote the drum line with Caspian's aggressive playing in mind. I have to have someone who swings their arms hard enough to break their cymbals or it won't sound the way I imagined. I wrote the baseline mellow and intricate just the way Jonis likes it. Something that he's capable of doing but impresses people when they hear it. I wrote everything around the members of Eclipse. Even Laila, though she's new, has her part that I wrote specifically because of her classical training. The music wasn't meant to be played by strangers who can't relate to it or tell the story. It sounds phony.
"I want to make it work, but I just can't. How would you feel if you wrote something beautiful and everyone who tried to sing it was mediocre and killed any life that was in it?"
"I understand how you're feeling. I've gone through that a million times, but there are times when we might need to give a little to get a lot in return. People will love your song, Moth, but if you sit on it forever, nobody will get to hear it. There are a few radio stations that said they could air it, but I'd need to email the file within the next two weeks. Can we have it done by then, kid? It's up to you." Since Ezra and I have been working on a lot of music, he's warmed up to me quite a bit which is a good thing because I hated the stoic looks and monotone corrections he always gave me. He acts more like an older brother now.
I was wary of him. I've heard horror story after horror story about Hollywood and how big companies take advantage of young talents. I didn't want to be exploited like I'm a product that someone else owns. The thought of someone being able to force me to play music or sing songs I don't like makes me sick. Ezra isn't like that. He makes me feel heard, and though I'm practically a baby compared to him, he respects my opinion.
My dad was wary of him too. I'm sure he was scared Ezra was a creep who likes diddling sixteen-year-olds to get his rocks off, but I'm not as naïve as most kids my age. After being forced to raise myself from the time I was eleven, I've gathered the street smarts I need to notice when someone is manipulating me. My dad insisted on watching by the first few sessions, but I feel more like an adult when it's just Ezra and I. Though I hated it, something was renewing about finally having the chance to be embarrassed by an overbearing parent. It was like a reminder that I'm still a kid.
"We can do it. You can edit that take and we can put these guys on for the music." I tell him, pointing at the most recent band recording.
I want my friends to play. I'll have my song on the radio, and I don't feel right ditching Eclipse to steal the spotlight for myself. I hate lying to people, but I have to figure out a way to swap the recordings. If Eclipse can play perfectly enough, and get a recording from a good studio, maybe I could switch it out without Ezra noticing.
It might be violating my contract, but what can they do? Send a sixteen-year-old to jail? My brother is shacked up with one of the best lawyers in New York and if they sue me, my dad's rich now. It's worth it to make people hear us and to let them fall in love with Eclipse the way I did. They'll love us. I'm sure of it.
"Alright. We'll send it out on Friday."