Beautiful Boxset: Beautiful Series, books 1-4

by Anderson, Lilliana

  “I’m moving on,” I state.

  “There’s a lot of press out there, Leis. They’ll just follow you,” Sandra points out.

  “I know. We’re going to need a distraction. Which is where you two will come in.”

  “OK. What do you need?”

  “I need you to leave.” I look between them. “Together.”

  The plan is simple. Jonathan covers Sandra with the same blanket he covered me with when we came in. She can carry a suitcase and Jonathan will lead her to his car. The press will naturally assume she’s me and follow them. Giving me a window to escape.

  “Here goes,” Sandra says, standing by the door with Jonathan. “Wish us luck and call me when you get to wherever you’re going.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “Both of you.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jonathan teases. “Don’t go getting all emotional on me.” He leans down and drops a kiss on the side of my head. “Take care of you, kid.”

  With a heavy heart, I watch from a small gap in my blinds as they leave and the press follows. I give it a few moments to be sure they’re all gone, then I go to the back door and get Perry inside, thankful that I don’t get attacked by a flashbulb to the eyes out there.

  The moment I call him in, he’s jumping up and down and swiping his tail from side to side so fast it’s a blur of golden fur. I kneel down and scratch his ears, telling him what a good dog he is as I wrap my arms around him and allow myself to have this one moment of comfort, with the one male in my life who will always be here for me.

  “You ready to go on a trip?” I ask him. He responds by licking my face, so I’ll take that as a yes.

  When you’ve remade your life, you’re forever afraid the carefully woven strings in the fabric of your new world will fray and come undone, so I’ve always been prepared. Today is the real reason I have a LandCruiser; it was to aid in my escape when the shit finally hit the fan.

  Moving around the house, I collect as many essential items as I can and load them in the back of the four-wheel drive then secure Perry safely in the backseat. I leave everything else behind. My house, my friends, my love… I shake the thought out of my mind before I start crying again. I can’t think like that. I can’t ask myself the ‘what ifs’ of this world. I’m doing the right thing. For both of us. I know I’m doing the right thing.

  I just wish that painful void in my chest would quit with its incessant aching. It’s making this so much harder.

  Eighteen

  Marcus

  “There. Her house is there,” I direct from the back seat of Theo and Naomi’s car.

  “The one with the little step in front of the door?” Naomi asks.

  “Yes.”

  Without waiting for Theo to turn the engine off, I’m out of the car and racing up to the front door, knocking loudly against the painted white wood.

  “Lisa!” I call out. “It’s me. Let me in.” I wait for a few moments, but there’s no response. Only silence. So I hit the remote on my key chain, opening the garage to find it empty. Her car’s gone. Crap.

  I have no idea where she’d go. She’d never go to her parents since the falling out with her father, and there’s no one else I know that she trusts enough to run to. Except maybe her friend, Sandra.

  Pulling out my phone, I look up Voyeur Magazine’s journalists. Sandra Haegan. That’s the one.

  Punching her name into the directory, I come up with her address. She’s not far from here.

  “What’s happening?” Theo asks as I return to the car.

  “She’s not here.”

  “Do you know where she might go?” Naomi asks, her brows pinched together in concern.

  “I only know of one friend. This is her,” I say, handing over my phone.

  When we arrive at Sandra’s house, a sense of relief washes over me. She must be here. The press is mingling out the front.

  “Do you want me to pull into the driveway or just drive by?” asks Theo as he slows the car right down.

  “You’re fucking kidding me? Stop,” I command. Fucking Jonathan fucking-shit-dick-lying-arsehole Masters’ car is parked in the driveway.

  Theo hits the brakes and I jump out of the car, racing for the door. The press sees me and gives chase, yelling questions about the state of my relationship with Lisa and how I feel about my fans protesting against it.

  I try to ignore them. I really do. But they are the sole reason I’m not with the woman I’ve fallen for right now. They have driven her away.

  Pausing in front of the door, I turn on the lot of them. “You know what? Just fuck off,” I yell, taking another breath to hurl even more abuse at them.

  Although, I barely finish my first obscenity before I’m pulled backwards into the house.

  “What are you doing? You’re going to make this even more of a circus than it already is,” Jonathan snaps.

  “Where is she?” I look around the room. No Lisa.

  “Mate, she’s not here.”

  I’m already seeing red, and his face coupled with her absence just makes the colour flare brighter. I charge toward him, grabbing him by the throat and pushing against him until he’s stumbling backward, finally stopping when I’ve slammed him against the wall.

  Lisa’s friend, Sandra, is behind me, yelling at me to stop. But the sound muffles and I’m not listening. Instead, I lean into Jonathan’s smug fucking face and growl through gritted teeth. “You’re a fucking liar! Where the hell is she?”

  He moves his mouth like a goldfish out of water as his eyes bug out and water, his face turning bright red.

  “You’re killing him!” Sandra shrieks, thumping her fists against my back. It’s enough to snap me out of my rage and release his throat.

  Jonathan stands up straight and rubs at his neck. “Oh god. Are you OK?” Sandra races to his aid, fussing over him while she checks he can breathe OK.

  He nods. “I’m fine. I’m fine. It’s OK.”

  Still breathing heavily, and still furious, I ask my question again. “Where is she?”

  “She’s gone. Neither of us know where,” Sandra answers. “I promise you. She didn’t tell any of us.”

  My head pounds. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to find her. She’s everything and without her, I’m nothing. I’m fucking nothing. I need her. Squeezing my head between my hands, I shake my head. This can’t be it. This can’t be the end of the line. I need to find her.

  “Where else would she go?” I can barely breathe.

  Jonathan takes a small step forward before reiterating what Sandra already said. “She’s disappeared again, mate. I’m sorry. But she’s gone.”

  “Fuck!” I yell, picking up a dining chair and hurling it at the front window. The sound of breaking glass, falling blinds and the pop of camera flashes, fill the air around us.

  I stand there, chest heaving, looking at the destruction caused by my hand, my soul destroyed, my heart broken. She left me. She’s gone, and she’s taken my heart with her. And journalists are standing around taking fucking pictures.

  Nineteen

  three months later…

  Marcus

  1,087. That’s the number of times I’ve tried to call Lisa since that day.

  How can two people come together so perfectly one day then fall apart the next? It makes no sense to me. It’s not like I’m the only one who felt it. I know she did too. I was there. I saw it in her eyes. I felt it in her touch. Heard it in her words. She said she loves me…

  During our month of perfection, our souls joined. Instead of being two, we became one, and when we parted, we were only half. I need her to be whole. I need her.

  For three months, I’ve carried this cavern in my chest. It feels like a gaping wound that I can’t close. I can’t stop the pain.

  Drinking doesn’t help, and other women or drugs aren’t even an option for me. I wake in the morning with her on my mind. I go to bed thinking of her and dream about her while I sleep and wish for her in every moment I
’m awake. It’s pure torture.

  I hired a private investigator. He found nothing. It’s like she’s vanished off the face of the earth. And I’m not sure how long I can exist in it without her.

  The only thing that helps remotely is my music. Craig agreed to drop the assault charges as long as I agreed to honour my contract to deliver two more albums and three tours. At the time, I agreed. I was too messed up to think it through, and I just wanted him to go away. But in a month, I’m supposed to go on tour to promote the album we finished earlier this year and I can’t even bring myself to sing. Right now, I can only write and play. Because the day she left, she took my heart with her and I can’t sing without it.

  Sometimes I think about that time I sang Romeo and Juliet to her over the phone and how she cried and tried to tell me we couldn’t be together. There’s a part in that song that talks about the dice being loaded but they fell for each other anyway. Then everything fell apart because of poor timing and they just became a memory to each other. I don’t want to be like that song. I want her back. We create our own odds, find our own timing. Because we fucking belong to each other.

  I need her.

  My family has been great. Naomi and Theo come over and make sure I’m functioning in some capacity. I moan that I want to be left alone, but they come listen to me moaning and sit with me when I’m silent. Every other day, my mother is here. She fusses over me and cleans up. She’s a typical Italian mother, leaving food, telling me to eat. I know I’m worrying her, but I can’t stop feeling this way. I’m empty.

  Today I was supposed to be at some meeting about my tour schedule and I didn’t bother showing up. I’ve had numerous calls from both Craig and Karen and I’ve ignored them all. I can’t make myself give a shit.

  Three months without her feels like a lifetime of pain.

  “Marcus?” I groan into my pillow. Karen is here.

  She knocks on my bedroom door then barges in. “Get up. You missed your meeting and you look like a hobo.”

  I offer another groan and cover my head with my blanket. Although, she’s right. I haven’t shaved in weeks and my hair has grown out in no real style. I’m beginning to look like a grizzly bear.

  “Get out of bed, young man.”

  “I don’t care about the tour,” I retort, my voice muffled.

  She tugs my blanket down then levels me with her disappointed gaze. “I get that you’re heartbroken, Marcus. I really do. But you can’t let your career go just because you’re sad. If you quit, you take a lot of people’s jobs with you. I know there’s no love lost between you and Craig but what about me? What about your crew? ‘Marcus Bailey’ isn’t just your name. It’s a brand. An institution. If you go down, we all go down with you.” Fuck. I never thought of it like that before.

  “I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” I tell her, helpless. “I need her back.”

  She sits on the edge of my bed and takes my hand in hers. “Marcus, we have one week left to find her before this becomes a huge issue. I promise to call in every favour I have to find her for you. But you’ll have to do something for me in return.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Clean yourself up. Cut you’re fucking hair and shave that beard off. The time for wallowing in your sorrow is over. Time to man up. We need you.”

  “You find her, I’ll do anything you want.”

  * * *

  Lisa

  At times I’ve wondered

  Why we tried at all

  You’d come around, spend time with me

  While I knew we couldn’t be

  You have to know

  I feel the same

  I think about you everyday

  Because you and I both know

  That together we are one

  We both know

  Together we are one

  So many times I’ve packed my bags

  Planning to run to you

  Your heart beats inside me every day

  But I know we can’t last

  And so I stay

  You have to know

  I feel the same

  I think about you everyday

  Because you and I both know

  That together we are one

  We both know

  Together we are one

  I know I ran away, but I wished I could stay

  I know I ran away, but I wished I could stay

  I ran away, I ran away, I ran away

  Because I knew I’d only lose you, anyway

  You have to know

  I feel the same

  I think about you everyday

  Because you and I both know

  That together we are one

  We both know

  Together we are one

  A perfect moment in time was all we had

  It’s all we had

  1,246,826. That’s how many times my new song has been downloaded.

  In the weeks after I left Marcus, I felt lost. And having no one to talk to, I turned to writing my feelings. Those feelings turned into lyrics, which turned into music. And having little else to do besides wallow, I recorded it. It was a crude copy, made using some basic equipment I got off eBay. I don’t know why I did it, but writing and singing the song helped me feel better. And since I couldn’t physically reach out to Marcus, I made the decision to put the song out there. Hoping that maybe he’d find it and feel some sort of connection with it… I don’t know. I guess it seems silly, but it’s all I could think to do.

  No one knows it’s mine. I uploaded it with a fake name via an independent distributor, and for two dollars a pop, people are purchasing it. I don’t even know how they found it. I guess it’s just one of those ‘right place at the right time’ type of things.

  The track is just basic piano and my voice. I think it would be much better with strings, but I didn’t have the contacts nor did I have the inclination to make that happen. I wrote it to try to lift that weight from my chest, and when writing didn’t alleviate the ache, I recorded it and uploaded, hoping that sending it out into the world would help me let go.

  It hasn’t. I still miss him. I still search for him online. I feel like a stalker. But most of all, I feel cut off. There are no recent photos of him. None at all. And I don’t know why. He’s supposed to be touring soon…

  Marcus

  “Oh no. no, no, no, no. She’s going to hate me. What the fuck!” I yell at the television as I watch a press conference led by fucking Craig. If this is Karen’s idea then she’s on my shit list too. How could they do this?

  They’re offering a reward to anyone who can find Lisa. The prize is a round-the-world trip, touring with me and the band. All access. I seriously feel like my head is going to explode.

  To prove how distraught I am, they’re showing the security footage of me losing my shit in the lift on the day she left. They’re announcing that a website and hotline has been set up for anyone who has information on her. I’m going to kill Craig for this.

  “What is it, Marcus?” my mother asks from behind me. She’s dropped over to bring me a casserole to make sure I eat something. She thinks I’m too thin.

  “My manager has just made sure that Lisa will never speak to me again,” I say, throwing the television remote with a thud against the leather of the couch.

  Her mouth drops open as she sees the hotline number and website scroll over the TV screen again. “Oh dear. This isn’t good.”

  “I know.” I grab my phone and punch in Karen’s number straight away. I need her to put a stop to this.

  But she doesn’t answer. After five times, she doesn’t answer. I think they’re using my own game against me.

  * * *

  Lisa

  Once every two weeks, I take a trip into the nearest town and pick up some food and supplies. It’s the only time I have access to the mobile phone network as my house isn’t close enough to a cell tower. So this is when I check my messages.

  In the beginning, there w
ere messages from everyone. My boss, Sandra and my brothers, even Erin the receptionist called a few times. There would be interview requests and a few random people who managed to get a hold of my number. There were even a few calls from my father and a couple from my mother. They weren’t really checking after my welfare; they were just calling because I guess they felt that had to…

  Most of the calls I get are from Marcus. Each time, he asks me to call him back; he tells me he’ll keep on ringing, that he’s not going to give up. I love you.

  Hearing his voice makes me smile, and I want to call him back, but I stand my ground. When he goes on tour, he’ll calm down I’m sure. It’s hard to ignore him, but I still feel as though I’m doing the most logical thing for us. His manager dropped the charges and his record label isn’t suing. He’s writing music, and he’s getting on with things. Just like I knew he would.

  Still, I look forward to his calls. My favourite messages are when he talks to me about new lyrics he’s written. He never sings them to me, but he reads them out like poetry and sometimes shows me the music that will go with them.

  When he leaves those messages, I save them, and play them over and over again so I can feel close to him.

  I was a selfish man

  Doing anything I wanted, a man trying to have fun

  I wouldn't do any of it

  I’d give it all up,

  I’d give my wealth away

  If I knew there was a chance

  That I could make you stay

  Now, I know it pains you

  To think the one you love

  Could possibly hurt you