dramamine

EVIE: She has issues, and she tells me I need therapy. Honestly we probably all need it.

EVIE: Neither confirmed nor denied xoxo

EVIE: Sounds like a good plan, keep it casual and innocent. Damn, I'm actually good at my job, who thought?

EVIE: That could be you. We gotta get you on dating apps.

BECK: that's fucking rich

BECK: i hate therapy i keep cancelling because i'm the worst and don't want to deal with anything

BECK: that sounds like a confirmation to me miss publicist

BECK: i did! always knew u would be great at whatever u did

          Good music and a good environment. She could die here. Tess hardly ever went into a bar to have fun, she went to get drunk and that was it, but as soon as her ears were filled with the smooth sound coming from stage she took her time in drinking. It reminded her of the days she would go out with Patrick dancing and they swayed into the night, smiling like fools in love. She had to shake her head at the memories, they seemed so far fetched now, as if they had never happened, or were someone else’s, or maybe happened in a different life from this one. Unlike the Johnny Blue she usually ordered whenever she was propped on a bar counter, Tess chose a rich red wine that aligned perfectly with the symphony that had been around the place. When they stopped, she was one of the people who clapped, some whistled, she couldn’t remember when it was the last time she had done that.

          With a small sigh she asked for the bartender to top off her glass again and after he did and went away, she noticed that the man who was sitting on her right had been the one behind the piano. Her eyes went from him to his choice of a drink and she kinked an eyebrow. “You’re one of those musicians who don’t drink while they’re playing, or is it something else?” The brunette asked, half in curiosity, quite possibly wanting to talk to someone, and there was always a part of her who never wanted an answer at all. She could never be a musician, it would be a surefire way to get an alcohol dependency and she had been steering clear from one for years.

He had been having a particularly difficult time with his sobriety as of late, something that he was rarely willing to admit to even his closest friends, especially since that meant admitting that his vices generally ran a lot stronger than alcohol. It was something that he was ashamed of, a part of himself he was still learning to live with—perhaps the only person who knew the full extent of his issues was Evie, who had stayed on the phone with him when he was sweating it out in a flop house in Detroit, who had called him every following day to make sure he was okay, who didn’t ask too many questions and didn’t expect too many answers. Beck didn’t do well with questions. When people asked him something, he tended to close up.

Beck paused, arching an eyebrow at her as he felt himself bristle slightly at her question, pursing his lips. “Does it matter?” he asked, his voice carrying just a little more snap to it than he would have liked, and he looked down at his glass. Perhaps that was enough to give away what he was hiding, but most people would assume that he was just a sober drunk from that interaction rather than knowing anything deeper. Beck pressed his lips together, raising his glass to his lips and pausing for a moment before taking a swig. “I didn’t mean for that to come out like that,” he said, his demeanor softening slightly as he brought a hand up to rub over his face. “Just had a rough couple of weeks.” 

Evie shook her head in response to Owen’s invitation to join him and his friends for a drink, knowing that Beck was on his way over. “You haven’t seen them much since you got back from college, go on. I’ll be fine,” she encouraged, narrowing her eyes at her father, one arm around Chelsea and the other around her younger sister Victoria. His picture perfect all-American family, the brunette thought bitterly to herself, taking a sip of the vodka soda she was drinking - something that she obtained with Owen’s assistance. In just a year, she’d be off to California as long as she got accepted to college there - unless Logan Rhodes got his way yet again and strongarmed her into Yale or Harvard. 

“You’re early. Chelsea’s about to give her speech,” Evie mentioned, holding onto Beck’s hands as he held her from behind. “Owen’s gonna cover for us, he’s going by his friend and he’ll just tell Dad and Chelsea that I went with him. How did you get past security, even?” she asked, amazed that he hadn’t gotten caught.

“They sicken me, all three of them,” she vented to her boyfriend, leaning into his embrace. Beck likely shared the same feelings, at least towards the two adults. Victoria was merely a preteen and innocent in everything, but Evie had some misguided frustration that she projected onto her sister. “I just gotta be back by 1 am, that’s when the party dies down and they’d definitely come looking for me and Owen. Where are we going?” she asked excitedly, taking Beck’s hand. She could smell the alcohol and weed on him, only one of which she’d consumed for the night. “I could use something other than vodka, but it’s the only thing I can drink unnoticed.”

Beck raised an eyebrow. “How much do you want to bet she’s going to get all fake teary-eyed when she’s talking about family?” he asked, slotting his chin against Evie’s neck as he looked out at the party. He certainly didn’t fit in there, and he got a couple of dirty looks from people who passed by, but none of them said anything—he was sure he’d be the topic of bedroom gossip later, but for the time being, he was just threateningly poor enough for them to leave him be. It was kind of fun to crash these things, if only because he liked getting all the attention. He didn’t care if people talked shit about him, as long as they were talking about him at all. 

“I might have a few leaves from your hedge stuck in my hair,” he said, using his hands at her waist to pull her around so she was facing him, ducking his head so that she could check his hair for any leaves or errant twigs that may have snapped off the hedge and nestled into his hair. It didn’t matter—he was pretty much willing to do anything to see Evie. Teenage infatuation dictated quite a few of his decisions those days. 

VEGA: That meeting is more important than my gig.

VEGA: Honestly, forget the gig.. I can put you in next week.

VEGA: gotta' have each others back's don't we.

BECK: fuck you're the best

Ellie smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know that fairies come out when it’s a full moon, right?” Or at least that’s the story her aunts told her when she was just a little girl. “They are all cuddle when the moon is away but during the full moon, they are vicious! I think there were even some attacks a few years back,” she moved closer to Beck. “I remember that there was a young couple who was on their way back home. They never made it and the police found them with small teeth mark all over their necks. It was crazy!” She was making that part up but she just wanted to see his reaction. Beck was always looking at the moon and Ellie was just dying to ask him about the hour of his birth to make his astral chart, if he allowed her, of course. 

“Oh shit!” Ellie jumped and put her hand on his shoulder. “Did you see that?” She pointed to a fence that was a couple of meters behind them. “I think I saw something out there.” 

“Yeah, well, here’s hoping they spice up my life a little bit,” he joked lightly. Beck raised an eyebrow at Ellie, a slightly bemused expression on his features. Half the time, he didn’t know what she was talking about, but that had never stopped him from enjoying her stories nonetheless, and that evening was no exception. “I can’t imagine that’s pleasant,” Beck said, his brow furrowing slightly. “I mean, biting is hot and all, but there comes a point where it’s a bit too much.” Beck didn’t particularly believe in the supernatural, but he liked that Ellie did, and he enjoyed her company because of it. He needed to spend some more time allowing himself to indulge in some of these curiosities. It was way better than his reality, anyway.

Beck whipped his head around. “Okay, if you’re just saying that to freak me out, I have to tell you, that’s cruel and you will 100% make me cry.” 

Mariah took a breath as the door opened. She nodded softly as he asked if she as Mariah. He seemed calm, cool, and collected as she walked inside his house quickly gripping the sheet music in her hand a little tighter. The house seemed nice enough. Some things were dated, but Mariah wasn’t much of an interior designer herself. Her mother had bought a lot of the furnishings and placed them strategically around her house. Mariah often wondered if there were secret cameras so her mother could spy on her. She looked in the direction he waved his hand and saw the piano. Her feet took her to the instrument and she sat down. She put her half crumbled sheet music on the stand and stretched her fingers a couple of times. She had practiced for a few weeks feeling like she should impress the teacher who was more than likely expecting a child and not the adult sitting at his piano right now. She looked at the metronomes and her nerves had her tense softly. Her anxiety was already pretty high now she had to keep up with the beat of that old instrument. Mariah moved a bit further down the bench as Beck pulled up a chair to sit closely. She reminded herself that her old piano teacher had to sit there to see what she was doing. Beck was the same. “Umm…yes…I…I started when I was about three and…I stopped at ten. I haven’t sat at a piano since that time. I…do still have some skills. I…I started practicing again once my mom told me she set all this up. I’ve been practicing this piece for the last few weeks. It’s Lacrimosa by Mozart.” she said softly before biting her lip as she set her fingers in the correct spots and started playing keeping her eyes on the sheet music and only there.

Beck’s home was an eclectic mix of things that his father had left behind after he died, some of his mother’s things, taken out of storage a couple of years back, and his own trinkets and photos from traveling around, his collection having steadily grown. On the wall directly in front of the front door, there were some photos from his childhood but mostly photos from his travels, cheesy pictures in front of the world’s biggest thermometer, holding beers on the beach with fireworks exploding behind him and his friend, kissing one of several flings he’d had while he was on the road. While they were often associated with painful memories, they were also times when he’d been happy, and Beck was learning how to take the bad with the good. They were a reminder that everything in life was a balancing act, and it was rarely as easy as categorizing things into wonderful or terrible. However, the most prominent feature of his home was stacks and stacks of records, piled up wherever there was room, along with an entire bookshelf of cassette tapes, scattered around the record player with a gaping mouth, a Dizzy Gillespie record still balanced on the turntable. In essence, his home reflected him: a mix of contradictions, all drowned out by a constant stream of music. “Okay, yeah, let’s hear it,” he said with an encouraging smile. She seemed shy, which certainly wasn’t a problem for Beck—he’d worked with students who barely said a word, and most of the time, they ended up being better than the ones who would talk his ear off. He tilted his head, watching her hands carefully before taking his pencil out from behind his ear so he could make some marks on her music. “Here and here, I think it might be easier if you try this fingering,” he said, labeling the notes with numbers that corresponded to her fingers. “And make sure not to forget the accelerando here,” he added, circling the notation in the music.” He bit the inside of his cheek before remembering to offer some encouragement as well. “It looks like you aren’t too rusty, though—that was pretty good,” he said with a reassuring smile. 

Candice chuckled and gave him a little bow. “I think I’ll up your membership to gold status now. You’re a very important member of the club.” she winked jokingly. Candice couldn’t say that she didn’t see a lot of people walking around at night in this city. It seemed like the city had some kind of insomnia. Maybe all of their melatonin level were off. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at his face when he mentioned the beach not being his thing anymore. She wanted to ask more, but she felt like that was something personal to him and they didn’t really know each other like that. “I know it’s not for everyone. Some people like the beach. Some like the mountains. Some like a valley. Some like the moon. Different strokes for different folks.” she shrugged softly before looking back at the moon. She wondered if Ryan could see it too wherever he was. She smirked before looking back up to him. “Well, that’s going to be hard to keep from the other members, but I think I can sneak it into the bylaws somewhere.” she grinned. “Playing piano doesn’t help you sleep?”

“Geez, I’ve never had status before,” Beck said with a huff of laughter. He was used to being the kid that people ignored, the guy that people tried not to look at on the street, the ghost who passed through town before anyone had a chance to get to know him, and for a long time, that had suited him just fine. But now, things were different, and he was starting to feel the restlessness that had made up his 20s starting to settle down somewhere deep in his chest, and it was enough to make him want to stay in Monleon, if only for just a little while longer. “You’ve got that right,” he replied. “Usually, I can get a pretty good look at the moon from my bedroom at home, but that’s only when the sky is clear and the moon is full. It’s a lot easier to look at it out and about here.” Beck wrinkled his nose lightly before shaking his head. “Just gets me keyed up,” he replied. “No pun intended.” He paused. “I don’t know, I guess it’s a question of settling my mind. Moving around usually helps with that.” 

Beck went to a meeting every week, sometimes more than once a week, lest he fall back into the old coping mechanisms that had unraveled his life not so long ago. That night, he told a story of being at the jazz club—he didn’t name it, lest someone there figure out where he lived and worked—and watching the bar so intently that he kept playing the same four measures of the song over an over until another member of the band cleared their throat and snapped Beck out of it. He had been struggling even more than usual lately, if only because his mother’s birthday was coming up and it always managed to send him into a spiral. He didn’t share that part with the group. 

Once they were done, he was looking down at the shitty pot of coffee they usually provided at these things, weighing the risks and benefits of actually drinking it. Deciding against it in the end, he looked up at the guy standing next to him. “You want to go get a real cup of coffee?” he asked, no expectation in his voice but the hope that he wouldn’t have to go home to his empty home too soon. The thought of those quiet hallways, where he could still hear his mother’s laughter, was too much for the time being. Perhaps after he’d have some coffee, he could put off going there for a little longer. 

eyes return to the man across the way, focusing on him for a second more before you try and give your attentions to the woman in question. you supposed beck was right, men and their jealousy seemed to be a means with no end, regardless of where and when they may have found themselves. or better yet, if they were even dating the woman in question. licking your lips, you linger a second more before your attention is returned to your friend.

 eager to keep the conversation going until he was inevitably called back onto the stage to perform in front of a crowd that certainly didn’t deserve him. seemed to be a running theme you’d noticed. with the friends you’d made here, they were destined and deserved bigger and better things. “i love your playing,” you start, head bobbing in a nod of encouragement, “what’s your favourite?”

beck shrugged a shoulder as he watched her gaze follow the woman across the room before returning to him. he couldn’t help but feel a light smirk curve at the corner of his lips, knowing for sure that there was going to be a fight sooner rather than later. he had been too many of these, watching everything from some forgotten corner, and he had seen plenty of drunken fights break out. it was part of the reason why he didn’t drink anymore.

Ellie couldn’t help but smile at him. “Sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to. I was just not expecting to see anyone, not at this hour at least.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “No, I just needed to clear my head. Your heard about what happened at the event, right?” Most knew that there had been a fight and luckily, not one the people that walked into her shop stared at her. Or perhaps they knew she had been involved and didn’t care that much and for that she was grateful. “Same, I could not sleep. It’s the curse of being born under the moon. Maybe I’m also a werewolf,” she smirked. Ellie was no stranger to the supernatural and when she had the chance to use words related to it, she would do it. “I get what you mean, “ she said staring at the moon. “She has ways to charm you and make you forget everything else. Look at her, with that pale face, almost silver skin, she’s bound to get your attention.” 

The moon was more to Ellie than a rock in the sky. It was a way to let go of her problems or sometimes the opposite, as it was happening right now. “I didn’t know you smoked. You’re going to die sooner than what destiny had planned for you if you keep doing it, you know?” 

“Yeah, what can I say? I guess I’m a true night owl,” he said with a shrug. “I usually don’t see anyone out and about at this hour either,” he added. “And when I do, they tend to be...weird.” Beck had a knack for attracting weird people. Wherever he went, he always ended up attracting every strange interaction he possibly could, whether it was watching a cowboy pass by on a boosted board while yelling ‘radical!’ at Beck or someone mistaking him for their long lost son and not believing that he was definitely not Timothy Blackwell IV, he always managed to pull the weird straw when it came to interactions. This was just one of those times that he supposed he could chalk up to the same tendency to weirdness.

Beck shrugged. “We’re all just dying slowly. Might as well speed it up a little bit and stop the anticipation.” He took another drag of his cigarette. “Besides. Its the only vice I’m allowed to have these days, and I need a little bit of something to get me through the day.” He paused. “That sounds worse than it actually is. Being sober is just a bitch.”

VEGA: is it something that you really have to bail on?

VEGA: I can get the jazz house band to play but i was really looking forward to the gig..

VEGA: of course i know things come up, so if you can't you can't.

BECK: ok i don't have to fully bail but can we push my set by an hour

BECK: it's just that like

Where: Beck’s House in Bougainvillea Park For: Beck

Piano lessons. Mariah couldn’t even remember the last time that she had piano lessons. Maybe when she was ten? She remembered coming home and running to her dad’s home office crying that she couldn’t do it anymore. That it was taking her away from studying space and the stars and she just wanted to do more of that instead of sitting at a piano every Saturday morning. There was a talk between her parents. She knew her mother left frustrated and her father left victorious. She never touched a piano again. Until today. Her mother had strongly encouraged her to take up lessons again because she was isolating on the weekends. Her mother being the teacher and fixer that she was immediately set up lessons again so that she would have to interact with just one person hoping that it would make it easier for her to interact with more people. Even, in her thirties, her mother was asserting what she felt was best on her and Mariah went along with it grudgingly. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hair as she made her way to the house that turned out wasn’t far from her own. There were a few old pieces that she vaguely remembered playing as a child so she found the sheet music online and printed it bringing it with her to this first lesson where the teacher would assess her skills. Far quicker than she expected, Mariah found herself in front of Beck’s door. She cleared her throat softly and knocked on the door softly. 

@ofbecketts​

Beck was used to teaching students who were much younger than Mariah, but it didn’t faze him to open the door and see an adult standing there. “Are you Mariah?” He pulled his beanie down over his hair a little more as he nudged the door open with his foot so that there was enough room for her to walk in. “Come on in. Piano’s right over there.” He gestured vaguely towards the corner of the living room in his ranch home—which had once belonged to his parents, now both gone—where he had set up an upright piano with stacks of sheet music shoved into a tall bookshelf nearby and an old-school metronome balanced on top of the piano (decoratively) and a digital metronome sitting on the piano bench (practically). He pulled up a chair next to the piano and invited her to take a seat. “Your mom said that you have some experience, right? You remember anything or not so much?” He usually started working with students after a brief assessment, which was what this was. He couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised to see that Mariah was an adult after speaking with her mother over the phone, but there were plenty of reasons why things might have worked out the way they did. He decided not to ask—it wasn’t his place.

Candice smiled softly and nodded. “You’re a member of the No Sleep Club too? I’m the President. It’s nice to meet you officially.” she teased grinning over to him. Candice hadn’t had a good sleep since Ryan left for the hit that last time and she knew that she probably wouldn’t again. It was why she chose to work the night shift at the hospital all the time. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well work. She chuckled softly as he asked about Ayden and shook her head. “No, he’s at a sleepover right now hopefully sleeping after living his best life today with one of his best friends from preschool.” Ayden loved seeing Mr. Beck for piano lessons. She had to admit he was doing pretty well when he practiced in their townhouse. Much better than when he first started. He even had a couple of songs memorized that he could play very well. She was impressed with how much Ayden had learned in such a short time. She knew she owed it all to Beck. He had always been patient and calm with Ayden which gave her son the confidence and space to make mistakes and learn from them which she appreciated. She looked up at the moon as he spoke of it with such reverence. “I can see that, but that’s how the ocean is for me. I keep the window open in my bedroom so I can hear the smallest sounds of the waves.” she smiled. She bit her lip then moved closer to him look through the gap in the trees that he was. The moon shone bright and full making Candice feel a pull and warmth within its light. “Wow…it is really a beautiful sight.” she smiled softly. “You don’t mind if I share your insomnia spot from time to time do you?”

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m in the presence of an actual president,” Beck replied with a soft huff of laughter escaping his lips. He felt like most of them around Monleon had some measure of insomnia—frankly, he couldn’t believe that people stayed in Monleon because they were happy, and when you weren’t happy, you weren’t sleeping. At least, that was how it worked for Beck, and he was sure that was how it worked for Candice as well. He couldn’t help but notice that Ayden’s father wasn’t in the picture—and he wondered if there was something else there, something that was eating at Candice, but he also knew that it wasn’t his place to pry. So, he wouldn’t, instead just continuing to teach Ayden to the best of his ability and spending sleepless nights staring at the moon and bumping into people he actually didn’t mind seeing. It was enough for Beck. Close friendship had never come easily for him—in fact, he only ever had one. “Yeah, I used to be into the ocean. But beaches and oceans aren’t really for me anymore.” Not since he had overdosed—his second and final overdose—on a beach in Virginia, rushed to the hospital half-dead and wishing they hadn’t saved him. The smell of salty air made him sick now. “As long as you promise not to let too many people in on the secret,” he replied with a crooked smirk.

@evierhodcs !!! 

July 4th, 2007

Beck was a fiend, finding his friends in low places and trying to do every single little thing that would piss his father off, if only because he could and it was the only way to make his father pay attention. Beck knew it was immature, somewhere deep down, but he wasn’t thinking about that at 17 years old. In fact, the only thing he was thinking about was Evie, which was how he ended up ditching his father and his awful family by stealing the keys to his father’s truck and driving over to the richer part of town, just to gatecrash Evie’s stepmother’s party. 

When he arrived, he withdrew the fifth of Jack that he had stolen from his uncle, still wrapped in a paper bag, and took a swig from it before stowing it away again as he made his way sneakily through the hedges towards the backyard where Evie’s stepmother was undoubtedly showing off something ridiculous and ostentatious to one of her many party guests. When he finally made his way around to the corner where Evie was, he emerged from the small path between the hedge and the fence and stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms gently around her waist. 

He pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear, smelling of whiskey and weed and his father’s cheap aftershave, all soaked into the fibers of the white t-shirt he was wearing. “What do you say we sneak out of here?” he asked, glancing up so that he could keep an eye out for Evie’s father, who had most definitely promised to shoot Beck the next time he caught Beck on his property. Not that Beck particularly cared. “It’s not like the evil stepmother’s gonna notice until it’s too fucking late.”

EVIE: LOL she sounds like fucking Chelsea. She asked for you the other day btw, I had to endure one of her garden parties.

EVIE: Dammit you're always calling me out aren't you?

EVIE: Okay from a more serious standpoint, I don't know if you should mention it. It may not be your place, and it may get you into a position you're not ready to be in.

BECK: she probably wants to castrate me or smth she never forgave me for the time i helped u sneak out and crushed the hydrangeas in the process

BECK: i mean yeah but that's why u love me xoxo

BECK: maybe i'll just ask the kid if he's doing ok in a very chill not calling out his mom for having an affair kinda way bc like if he doesn't know it's probably the best right??

BECK: hey if i were to bail on the gig this weekend

BECK: would you absolutely hate me and never hire me again