Bright Lights: Book One of the Talia Shaw Series

by Darcy, Christine J

  At the end of the night I found myself lazing on the couch with Lucy talking about the embarrassing shows we used to watch as teenagers.

  Teddy grabbed my arm, “Come on, you’re driving me home.”

  “Now?” I whined.

  “Please. I’m tired,” he whined back.

  “Fine,” I gave in.

  I looked for Laurie to say goodbye. He was talking to a couple of girls in his kitchen.

  “We’re off,” I told him. He stepped toward me and kissed my cheek.

  “See you soon, Shaw,” he said with a wink.

  I nodded, ignoring the slight knot in my stomach at seeing him like that, and Teddy dragged me to the door.

  We dropped him off then Leif took me home.

  I checked my phone before bed and found Mom had sent me an email about booking flights to see me and when might be a good time. I realised I hadn’t spoken to her for a week. How could you go from living with someone to not seeing or speaking with them for so long? I checked the time and called her. She sounded so excited to hear from me that I felt even guiltier. We organised her flights to come see me that weekend.

  * * *

  The next day, I was woken by Manny’s call.

  “How are you?” he asked, too energetically for 8am.

  “Fine… do you need something?” I asked.

  “I just wanted to let you know that Bettys has been released and it’s rapidly climbing the charts. Entered at 27 and now at 16.”

  I sat up. “Wow.”

  “The late night hosts want you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Kimmel, Fallon, Corden, they all want you. We have to decide which one and get you set up for a performance and interview.”

  “Wow. Okay.” I felt nauseous. A performance.

  “We’re also setting you up with a stylist.”

  “Ari?” I asked.

  “If you’d like. She’ll set you up for appearances, but we also thought you might like to redo your wardrobe now that you’re being photographed so often.”

  “I actually went shopping the other day,” I assured him. I thought I’d solved that problem.

  “That’s great, Talia. Ari will go through everything and see what we can keep. She’ll put together a whole bunch of outfits and make it simple for you. It’ll make life much easier.”

  “Okay…”

  “It also might be a good idea to set you up with a trainer and nutritionist. Most of our artists have them.”

  I tried not to take offence. “Sure.”

  “I’ll set it up,” he said and then hung up.

  Ari came over that afternoon with a van full of a clothes and shoes and bags. She rearranged my entire wardrobe, throwing out half of my stuff and taking Polaroids of outfits she recommended for different occasions.

  “I don’t know why anyone cares. If people are buying my music--”

  Ari shrugged. “Image is important in this town. You’ll start to get into it. A lot of people, who don’t care about fashion, get into this industry or acting and then start to really care about it.”

  “I doubt it,” I contended.

  I started going to the trainer who was a strapping Dutchman named Per. He told me I needed to stop eating burgers and start eating salads. I assured him I’d try.

  Laurie started texting me, too. He’d gotten my number from Teddy. It was just casually at first. Asking about my day and telling me about his. Then he asked if I wanted to go to dinner. Of course, I said yes. It was a wild thing to be asked on a date by one of your ultimate crushes. A guy who, if I’d been allowed posters on my wall, would definitely have been up there. I barely knew him, but I liked him a lot. Maybe he felt the same way.

  He picked me up on Friday night, in a red mustang. I had to pinch myself as I walked down to the driveway with him. He drove me to a dingy Mexican restaurant in Glendale. It was very dimly lit, the only light coming from a few small bulbs in the roof and red candles on each table. No one seemed to recognise us or if they did, they didn’t bother us.

  We sat at a tiny table, keeping close together. We ordered a huge bowl of nachos to share, ate them within about twenty minutes, and then talked for another two hours. We got on like a house on fire. Never a lull in conversation. He told me about his whole family. His sister, Rooney, his Mom, Ryan, and his stepdad, Colin. I told him about my family and my friends. I talked about Ashley and Kelly and he let me get quiet when I upset myself. Then he made me laugh with a stupid joke about Mexicans in quicksand. We drank three margaritas each and had churros dipped in chocolate for dessert. I had stopped being surprised that people didn’t care I was drinking underage. I wasn’t sure if it was the newfound fame or if it was just Los Angeles.

  As we walked to the car I realised we hadn’t been very responsible. “Are you sure you’re good to drive?” I asked. “I can call Leif.”

  “I got it,” he said and got into the driver’s seat. He seemed to handle the alcohol much better than I had.

  He drove me home slowly. He kept looking over at me, running his eyes up and down my body, lingering on my legs.

  “Keep your eyes on the road,” I insisted, turning his face to the front. He laughed at me.

  He stopped at a red light, leaned over and captured my lips. I gave in to it, leaning toward him and gripping his neck. He had the littlest bit of stubble. It scratched my chin just a little, driving me crazy as he pulled at my lower lip. The car behind us honked and Laurie hit the gas, breaking our kiss. I tried to catch my breath.

  “You sure you want to go home?”

  I shook my head. He laughed. I had told him to take me home, not because I didn’t desperately want to fool around but because I was scared of what would happen after we did. He was a rock star after all. Would he be done with me? I knew it sounded desperate, but I wanted to make whatever this was last as long as I could.

  He dropped me off with another kiss, this one too chaste, and I had to force my legs to take me to my door. I watched him drive away, hopelessly crushing on him. A text came seconds later. “What are you doing next Friday?” he asked. I held my phone to my chest like an idiot.

  Don’t text and drive, I replied.

  * * *

  That Saturday morning, Leif and I picked Mom up from the airport and took her on a quick tour of LA. We saw the Hollywood sign, Venice Beach, Santa Monica, and Malibu. I showed her the house where we made my album and we had a look at some of the stars on the Walk of Fame. We got a few selfie seekers which seemed to freak Mom a little, so we mostly stayed in the car. Then I took her to my house. “Oh my god, Talia. This is where you’re living?”

  I took her through the house and she became quiet. I showed her the spare room where she’d be sleeping.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking a seat on the bed.

  “You’re welcome.” When had we started being so formal with each other? When I had picked her up from the airport, we hugged so tightly. On our tour, she had been quiet but I thought it was just fatigue from the flight and seeing Los Angeles for the first time. There in this house everything felt off. I didn’t understand why she was being this way. Or was it me?

  “Are you tired?” I asked.

  “A little,” she answered.

  “Do you want to rest a bit before dinner? I thought we could order in.”

  “Sure,” she nodded.

  “Well, the bathroom is stocked. Let me know if you need anything?”

  She nodded and I left.

  She came downstairs a few hours later and we got some Chinese food delivered. We sat on the couch and ate. I told her all about the process of making the album and all the promoting I’d been doing.

  “You look different,” she said. I brushed my hair back a little.

  “Do I? I’ve been working out.”

  “You’re dressing differently,” she said, looking at my outfit.

  “My manager organised a stylist for me,” I explained.

  “Is that something you want
ed?” she asked.

  “I didn’t but it does make life easier.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Are you coming home for Christmas?” she asked.

  “Probably,” I said.

  She didn’t like that answer. “Not definitely?”

  “Well, you never know what might happen,” I said, lightly.

  “Do you think you’ll maybe go to your boyfriend’s family’s house?” she asked, pointedly.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend?”

  She scoffed, “I saw pictures on the internet. I would’ve thought that would be something you’d tell me.”

  I guessed there must have been some photos taken when we went out to dinner.

  “It’s very new,” I answered.

  “You haven’t heard about all the other women he’s been with?”

  “You can’t believe all that stuff, Mom,” It seemed she’d been looking over Laurie’s dating history. I knew a little from being one of his fans, but nothing gave me any pause.

  “Yes, I can. He’s going to treat you just as badly as those women, I’m sure.” She was so angry.

  “What is your problem?”

  “I don’t like this,” she said as she set her plate on the table.

  “Like what?”

  “You living this life. This all just happened way too fast. A few months ago I was driving you to school. Now you’re here on your own, in a strange city, dating some Hollywood bad boy. We never see you. You never see Saffy.”

  I ignored the Hollywood bad boy thing. It was so far from the truth. “I talk to her all the time,” I lied.

  “You call her? Because you never call us?”

  “It’s expensive to call.” That was a cop out.

  “Like you can’t afford it,” she gestured to the house. “Why are you still living here? You made your album. You promoted it. You can come home now.”

  “I’m not done promoting it.”

  “Are you going to be here forever? Stay in LA and become one of these pop stars, partying and getting DUI’s?”

  “Mom, you’re being crazy. You were the one saying you were proud of me and that I could do this!” I shouted.

  “Maybe I was wrong,” she insisted, more sad than angry.

  I was the one getting angry. I was happy here. And, there weren’t reminders, everywhere I looked, of the best friends I lost. “Well, it’s not your choice,” I said firmly. She quieted. “I don’t know why it is such a problem for you. I am safe here. People like my music. I am making good money.”

  “Is the money what matters to you?” she asked.

  “Of course not. But it helps. I wanted to tell you that I have a gift for you and Dad. I can pay off your mortgage.” I wanted her to see that it was good for her, too.

  Mom shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing. “We don’t want your money.”

  “Why not? You’ve spent plenty on me.”

  “You’re our daughter,” she said.

  “I want to do this for you and Dad.” Kids did this for their families all the time. When they could.

  Mom shook her head. “I don’t want to fight with you,” she spoke quietly.

  “I don’t either,” I agreed.

  “Let’s just eat,” she said. She picked up her plate. I couldn’t eat.

  “You want to watch something?” I asked. Mom nodded. I turned on the TV. It was good to have something to fill the silence.

  It was the house and it was my clothes and it was the distance. I didn’t know how to fix any of that. I liked this house and I liked my new clothes. I liked Teddy and Laurie and Leif. I didn’t know if any of it was going to last. There were no guarantees, but I was happy in LA and Mom couldn’t understand it.

  We kept arguing the whole next 48 hours. Not like the first big fight, just squabbling about little things. Mostly about me paying for things though I don’t think that was what was really bothering her. We’d never been this way. She was always so loving. We tried to go shopping but the paparazzi showed up. It was the first time they’d come so close to me. Mom started to talk to them, telling them to back off but I told her not to. Then she was annoyed at me. Eventually, we decided it was better to stay home. We spent a lot of time just watching movies and eating. Neither of us said anything meaningful. We didn’t talk about the fight with both of us assuming it wouldn’t end any better a second time round.

  The night she was flying out, she insisted on going to the airport alone.

  “I’m sorry we fought,” she said, taking my hand. “I am happy for you. I just don’t like being so far away from you.”

  “I know, Mom. But, it’s not forever. I promise.” I was sure I would come home sooner than she thought.

  She nodded, though I don’t think she believed me. “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you, too,” I said as I hugged her goodbye. “You sure I can’t take you?”

  “No. It’s late. Go to sleep,” she insisted. I waved her off.

  I went to my own bedroom and tried to sleep but I kept thinking. I imagined what it would have been like if Mom had come with me. Not the first time, I couldn’t imagine that. But the second time. If she had come with me on the ship and then stayed in LA for a bit. Would there be that distance between us? I wondered if she were right to feel the way she did. Had I changed that much? My mind wouldn’t stop. I called Laurie but he didn’t answer. I texted Teddy but he didn’t respond.

  I got back up. I put fresh sheets on the spare bed and put Mom’s sheets in the wash. I emptied the dishwasher and repacked it and turned it on. I kept finding new things to do, spring cleaning the house in the middle of the night. I felt awful for the way Mom’s trip had gone and nothing was distracting enough.

  I got back into bed with my laptop and went to YouTube. I was all ready to watch funny videos, cats or British quiz shows or something, when I saw one of Laurie’s interviews was recommended to me. I clicked on it and watched. He was so full of charm, I couldn’t help but smile. In the recommendations beside it, I saw Talia Shaw – Bettys. It was my music video. I remembered today’s date. It was the release. It had 10k views already. I clicked on it, not bothering to watch the video, having already been sent a copy, and scrolled down to the comments.

  I had kept myself away from that kind of thing before, but it was right there and a perfect painful distraction I was sure. There were the comments I expected: ‘her voice is awful’, ‘this song is so lame’ and even more painful, ‘how could she release an album after what happened to her band?’ But then I found something else.

  ‘My Mom died seven months ago and it felt impossible to go on. When this song came out, it felt like she had taken the lyrics from my heart. It’s everything I’ve been feeling. And I don’t feel alone anymore. This song means so much to me. Thank you, Talia.’

  I was touched. I clicked on her account. There was no way to private message. I could only reply. Katie had told me not to respond to people on social media. I always thought she meant to trolls. I hoped she wouldn’t disapprove of what I planned on doing. I went back to her comment and replied. ‘Thank you, VeraDiamond18. I am so sorry for you loss. It means a lot to me that the song has given you comfort and I promise you, you are not alone. All my love, Talia.’

  I felt lighter having sent it. I so hoped she would see it. I kept scrolling and found another comment with a similar story. And then another. There seemed to be so many people, affected by tragedy, who had fallen for my song. I replied to every single one of them. That night, they helped me to feel like I wasn’t alone either.

  Six

  Laurie and I were hiking Runyon Canyon at 5:30am on a Sunday morning for our second date. The trail, at the eastern end of the Santa Monica Mountains, was supposed to have one of the best views of the city.

  “Can you explain to me why we needed to hike this early?” I asked as I held my hand out for Laurie to drag me up the godforsaken hill.

  “Have you seen one face on this hike?”

  “I’ve been lo
oking down, mostly,” I said. I’d never been very fit, and I hadn’t been working with Per long enough to run up the hill. I didn’t know why I agreed to the hike. Oh wait, because it was with Laurie Siler.

  He got behind me and started pushing me, like Sisyphus pushing his boulder. “I’m going, I’m going,” I assured him. It was a little early in this relationship for him to have seen how unfit I was, but at least Ari had given me a workout outfit. I was kitted out in all black, Adidas leggings, trainers and a ratty old t-shirt she likely would have disapproved of. He wore track shorts, a white t-shirt and Nikes. Most of his hair was tied at the base of his neck with the shorter strands tucked behind his ears.

  He moved back in front of me and took off his shirt. I was glad I had an excuse to be red and sweating. He wasn’t brawny or scrawny but a perfect midpoint. He had broad shoulders and thick arms. There were hints of abs and the hint of a v in his lower stomach. He was haphazardly decorated with lots of tattoos all over him, all of them black. There were roses and stars and hearts. It was all seemingly random, like most were the result of a drunken dare or boredom. But I knew there must have been some of them, maybe half of them, that actually meant something. Like the random year, 1966, or the rattle.

  He looked at his watch and stopped me. “Get on my back,” he said, turning and lowering himself a little.

  “What?”

  “I can carry you,” he assured me.

  “I can walk,” I reminded him.

  “You’re too slow. We’re going to miss it.”

  “Miss what?” I asked. He moved closer to me and I jumped up onto his back. He jostled me to sit comfortably against him and walked quickly up the rest of the hill. We made it to the sandy mound at the top of the canyon and he set me down.

  The sun was still rising. It was painting orange across the sky, lighting the blue of the ocean and the green of the trees but leaving the houses and buildings in shadow. Laurie gently gripped the back of my neck, his thumb rubbing circles. “You see why I was in a hurry,” he explained.