[A/N]: Oh my god. I always keep on forgetting that I should be dedicating the last few chapters to the readers who constantly comment.
So yeah.
If you guys get a dedication in the last few chapters, it's because you're simply awesome.
But anyway, this chapter is dedicated to a person who made the new cover on the right. Isn't awesome? The details is so amazing and I absolutely adore it! So htank you VidishaJain!
Anyway....
SIX CHAPTERS TO GO!
- kelly_1231
Chapter Forty-One
Sunday, May 20th.
CARSON'S POV:
The following morning after the Battle of the Bands, I found myself trying to forget all the events that took place that night by distracting myself with excessive cleaning over the apartment, studying for my exams next month, and just watching television. However, even then, I couldn't bring myself to fully forget the fact that i just had my first encounter with Vincent in weeks and that the famous music producer, Blaze Carter, had literally just offered me a chance at a record deal. I tried forgetting all of this because if I acknowledged the fact that it did happened, then i had to acknowledged the fact that I literally just rejected my dream of being a real artist and being able to perform in front of thousands of people like Vincent got to do every night.
Yes, I know.
If I was so hung up over the fact that I blatantly dismiss my chance at being a well-known musician, why didn't accept the offer in the first place?
To be quite honest, I didn't really know the answer to that myself.
Maybe I was scared about the fact that there was a slight possibility that I could end up the same way as Vincent Gray-- cocky, arrogant, and rude. That was basically scary enough because I sure as hell didn't want the fame of being some famous musician getting to my head. I didn't want to end up going crazy or something because I couldn't handle the fame. Not to mention the fact that I also had to live with the disadvantages of being a musician. I mean, did I really want the paparazzi stalking my every move? They were already doing that. Did I really want my personal life being front pages on every single magazine stand? Absolutely not! There were so many disadvantages of becoming famous but shoudn't have that not mattered to me?
Shouldn't have the thought of living my dream be good enough?
Or was I just scared about something else?
~~~~~
On Sunday morning, I just stayed in bed staring at my wall of pictures and how so many more pictures were added over the course of the last two months. There were pictures of Gracie, Simon, and I making random faces at the cameras and another one of us jumping like idiots as if were on the poster of High School Musical. There were some pictures of us and the rest of our friends eating at the Harley's Diner and of us in Wonderland with Ethan. And as my eyes scanned over the new sets of pictures, I couldn't help but notice the amount of pictures there was of Vincent and I.
I almost smiled because they were actually really goofy pictures of us. There was a picture of Vincent staring at the camera with wide eyes and me behind him making bunny ears on his head. There was also a picture of Vincent pulling the sides of my ears to try to make me look like a monkey while I was just giving him the death stare.
It surprised me so much how many memories could be made in such a short amount of time and it only reminded me that high school would be over in just one more month.
Damn.
Sometimes I wished I could have enjoyed my high school years a bit more.
While I continued staring at my wall, my mother came walking into my room with a small smile on her face. "Carson," she said. "We need to talk."
I turned around in her direction and narrowed my eyes at her. "About what?" I asked, curiously.
"About Vincent."
My eyes widened in surprise. "If you're here to have the birds and the bees nest talk again, um, I would like to just say that we have not gone all the way, mom," I responded, holding my hands up in defence. "Still a virgin here, you know?"
My mother just stared at me like i was nuts. "What? No!" She cried out. She then laughed as she sat at the foot of my bed. "I wasn't here to talk to about that."
"Oh.... well, now i feel stupid!"
My mother just rolled her eyes as she put an opened envelope onto my lap. "It's from Vincent," she said quietly. "Um, I sort of opened it."
I raised an eyebrow at her. "Did confetti explode in your face or something?" I asked.
"Not quite."
I shrugged as I pulled out the paper that was in the envelope and once I did, my mouth literally hung wide opened. As I brought the rectangular paper up to my face to get a better look at it, i realized that i was a cheque made to me from Vincent Gray. It was cheque for two hundred thousand dollars.
For a moment, I began wondering why Vincent would send such a great amount of money to me but then I realized that on the night of the Battle of the Bands, I had reminded Vincent about the money for my University tuition fee.
Crap.
I looked down onto the cheque, confused.
This money was enough for me to go to University for four years and also live on campus.
It was too much.
What was Vincent thinking?"
I looked up to my mom who was looking at me with concern in her eyes. Obviously, she was probably wondering why her daughter's famous boyfriend was sending her a cheque for two hundred thousand dollars. I mean, it didn't really too good for me at the moment.
I let out a shaky laugh because all of a sudden, I felt guilty. "I'm not a gold digger," I insisted.
"I didn't say you were."
I just looked at my mom but didn't say anything else.
Great, now what was I suppose to tell my mom? Was i suppose to tell her about the deal Vincent and I had made two months before? Was I suppose to tell her that our whole "relationship" was just a big-fat lie (partially) and that it was all for the cameras to help with Vincent's public image? How would she understand? How would she handle the truth?
My mom just looked at me and shrugged. "I just want to know why Vincent's sending you a large amount of money," she said.
"I-I don't want to talk about it."
"Anna."
I looked up and my mother was dead serious now. "I want to know," she persisted.
I let out a reluctant sigh and scratched my head. "It's the money Vincent owes me," i told her.
"For what?"
"Pretending to be his goody-two-shoes girlfriend for two months to help with his public image," I said, quietly.
My mother raised her eyebrow at me. "And what were you planning to do with two hundred thousand dollars?" She asked, a stern expression now plastered onto her face.
"I was planning to use it for University."
My mother stayed silent for a moment before heaving out a heavy sigh. "Anna Carson Lovette," she said, sternly. "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to worry about the University tuition fee?"
I stared at her. "Probably more than i can count."
"Exactly," my mother whispered. "You're making things so much harder then it is and now, look. You have a famous celebrity paying for your tuition fee when you probably don't even want to attend University."
My eyes shot up and I stared at my mom. "What makes you think I don't want to go to University?" I snapped.
"I know you better then you know yourself," my mother said, half-smiling at me. She then shrugged. "You're not happy, you're only happy when you're in front of the piano or playing the guitar. And I know you would much rather be doing something greater with your life than sitting in one-hour lectures in University."
I just stared at my mom for only a mere second before averting my gaze away from her.
"Look, I don't tell you this enough but--" my mother pressed her warm hand against my cheek and forced me to look into her eyes. "-- as long as your happy with whatever you choose to do with your life, I don't care. I want you to be happy and I don't want you feeling as though you need to please your parents by doing whatever they want you to do. Do what you want because at the end of the day, it's your life-- not ours."
My eyes dropped down onto my hands and whispered. "Why can't somebody just tell me what to do?"
My mom laughed as she kissed my forehead. "Only you can do that," she whispered back.
"Thanks," I said to my mom as she got up.
"For what?"
"For letting me know if I fuck up my life that you won't beat me with the wooden spoon."
My mother rolled her eyes. "Give the cheque back to Vincent." she said. "Because whether you want to want to go to University or not, I'll be the one paying-- not you nor Vincent. Now get up. Your second-last reherasal for the Cotillion waltz is in thirty minutes."
~~~~~
Since Vincent wasn't able to make it for the last few rehearsals, Simon stepped in to be my partner. It wasn't that big of a deal to him and Gracie considering the fact that they were one of the few couples who actually got the choreography down right. After the rehearsal, I made my way out the church to catch the next bus that would lead me to Vincent's old house.
I could have sent it back to him but I figured the risk of the cheque being lost was too great of a risk to take. I also didn't want to stop by his condo since I wasn't ready to see him again and because there was a great chance that Vincent was back in Los Angeles or God knows where now. So the only option I had left was to give it to his parents.
Once i got to the Gray's house, like always, Jennifer and Michael welcomed me with opened arms. They then lead me to the living room where they offered me milk and cookies. This almost made me laugh because they did the exact same thing when I was I kid and I dropped by whenever Vincent was late coming home.
"So how are you, Carson?" They asked as I swallowed the first cookie.
I gulped. "Um, I want you guys to give something back to Vincent for me," I said as I reached into my handbag to retrieve the envelope. I then handed it over to Jennifer who slowly took it into her hands.
"What is it?" She asked, curiously.
I bit my lips. "You don't want to know."
They both stared at me with raised eyebrows.
"Um, no," I insisted. "It's just that it would be too difficult to explain."
Michael narrowed his eyes at the envelope and took it into his own hands. Then, as he slowly began opening the envelope, I could feel my heart pounding against my chest because I didn't want the two of them taking the cheque in the wrong way. When Michael pulled the cheque out of the envelope, he stared at it for a couple of moments before looking up to meet my anxious gaze. "Why is my son giving you two hundred thousand dollars?" He asked, obviously pissed off.
I looked over to Jennifer who looked just as mad.
Crap.
"It's not how it how looks like--"
"Well, it sure does!" Michael insisted. "And let me tell you something, this cheque isn't making you look too good right now, Carson."
I almost rolled my eyes. Now could I see why Vincent got so easily frustrated with them-- they just jumped to conclusions too quickly.
Once I got over the fact that they were proabbly looking at me like i was some sort of gold-digger at the moment, I began telling them exactly what I had told my mom a few hours ago-- the deal that Vincent and I had made two months ago. I told them how Vincent was desperate to start his world and how he couldn't do so if the two of them still believed he was being an arrogant son. I also them how he asked me to pretend to be his goody-two-shoes girlfriend for two months, enough for the whole world and for them, to believe that he had changed, and how he would repay for my time by paying for the four years of my tuition fee. I also added that Vincent probably didn't know how to estimate how much it would cost for a four-year undergraduate degree because he ended up giving too much money. I also told the two of them that i was giving the money back because, well, I was guilty. It felt so wrong for some reason even though i did my end of the deal.
It just felt wrong.
That, and because my mother was forcing me to give it back as well.
Once, I was finished telling them the story, I could automatically see on Michael's face that is anger was no longer targeted towards me but rather his own son. I then began wondering if telling his parents about our little scheme was the best thing to do...
"That little..." Michael got up in anger as he started pacing around the room. "How could he?!" He shouted.
"Michael," Jennifer said, rubbing the temples of her forehead. "Calm down--"
"Calm down?" He echoed. He held up the cheque and slammed down onto the coffee table. "How the hell am I suppose to calm down when we've just learnt that our son lied to us, huh? Now, here I thought that our son was finally changing into a young gentleman to only find out that he's still that arrogant and disobedient son. How am I suppose to be calm when Vincent not only lied to us but to the entire freaking world? I have every right to be infuriated right now because you know what? I never wanted Vincent to pursue this music career of his! I never wanted him to be home-schooled either! Now, look. He dragged Carson into his business and now, she's probably tired of his bullshit just as much as we are tired with his..."
It was right there and then that I truly began to feel for Vincent.
As Michael continued to rant about Vincent, I couldn't help but understand how Vincent acted the way he did whenever he was around his parents, and how they helped him shape to be the man that he was today. And the more that Michael went off, the more that i felt like I was watching my own father talk about how"stupid" a music career was and how he was trying to make me feel pathetic. And in that moment, I truly felt as though I was Vincent-- angry, hurt, and obviously, offended.
Yes, Vincent was cocky and arrogant but deep down, I knew that was only a facade. And yes, he had the ego the size of the Pacific Ocean but at the end of the day, he had a heart and passion that was just as big. He might have changed a lot during the past two years but I knew that Vincent was still that playful, humorous, and carefree boy that i had met when we were in first grade. I knew that he was impulsive and that he often didn't use his head before speaking or doing anything, but he would never want to hurt anybody intentionally.
He was kind.
Sweet.
Gentle.
How was it that I could only see that in him and not his parents?
The more that Michael talked, the more i became infuriated myself.
Now i understood why Vincent's passion and drive to be a musician was so strong-- he wanted to prove his parents wrong.
Just then, the words of one of their hit singles that was deemed as "the anthem of this generation" called "Goodbye to Doubt" popped into my head:
Ridiculed for the dreams that I dreamt
Criticized for all the things that i hoped and felt.
And oh, even though I'm on my own,
One day you'll see me sitting on a golden throne
And yeah, right now i may be walking about
But I'll show you the outcome of saying goodbye to doubt.
As i stared at Michael, still going off, and his wife, obviously not try to disagree with him, I stood up and clenched my fists. "You two are so wrong about Vincent," I snapped.
Michael and Jennifer looked up, shocked at the tone of my voice.
"Why can't you just be proud of him?" I said to them. "Do you even realize the chance of being in a famous band is slim to none? Are you not proud that Ever After beat those odds and has become one of the most beloved bands of this generation? Are you not happy that Vincent is making millions? That he's making more money than he would ever make working as something else? He's doing what he loves! Why can't you just be proud of him?!"
Michael and Jennifer just stared at me.
"All Vincent probably wants is his family's approval," I hissed. "You say he's rude to you but I'm thinking to myself, how can he not? You two have helped shaped the person he is today and if you think he's just rude, arrogant, and cocky, let me be the first one to say it's because of you."
I grabbed my bag and stomped my way out the living room. But before i left, turned around to say one last thing. "And oh, he is so much more than just a rock-star," I spat at them. "He's your son. I hope you remember that the next time you try to insult him."
I waited for a moment to see if they would respond but they were both speechless.
When i figured out that they had nothing else to say, I walked to the front door and slammed it shut.