Beat of our Hearts

Jamie

I’m doomed, and I have no one but myself to blame. 

But the minute Tristan came to me with his idea, I knew I wouldn’t, couldn’t, say no to him. Not only have we been best friends since we were kids, but he has also been through hell these past couple of years. I would do anything to make his life easier. 

So when he asked me to participate in the nation’s most popular talent show on TV, of course I agreed. Because winning would mean he could afford a lawyer who can actually stand his ground against the Farleys and support his parents financially.

Sounds just like what a best friend would do, right? And it is; give it a shot, see how far we can get, go back home with a great story if nothing else. So why am I doomed, then?

Because I’m an idiot who’s in love with his straight best friend. An idiot who’ll be sharing a room with him for the time we’re in the city during auditions, and for however long we’ll be in the competition. I’ll be spending even more time with him than usual. I have no idea how I’m supposed to survive it without my heart finally and utterly being broken; because Tristan is not only drop-dead gorgeous with his warm brown eyes, his square jaw with his trademark five o’clock shadow, and his soft, wavy dark-brown hair that makes him look just that bit softer so he doesn’t come across as too intense. No, he has so much more to offer than just his looks. He’s a devoted father to his little girl, a loving son doing his best to help his parents wherever he can, and he is one of the kindest men I’ve ever met. Admittedly, he’s quieter nowadays than he was even a year and a half ago, but with everything that has happened, who could blame him?

So once people get a look at him, hear even a fraction of his story? They’ll all fall in love with him, and it won’t take long for women to flock to him. He might say he doesn’t want to date, that he has other priorities right now, but we also come from a small town where most women who aren’t married yet are the ones who are just not looking to be a wife or mother because they are following other dreams. But I know somewhere out there is a woman who’s perfect for him. And, gosh, I want that for him, I do. It will tear me apart, but he deserves all the happiness in the world. 

That’s how I find myself sitting in an overcrowded hotel lobby surrounded by hundreds of other people going over their songs or magic tricks, stretching for their dance acts, or fussing over their outfits while I’m waiting for Tristan to come back with our registration forms. I’m not delusional, I know there are tons of talented people out there, and many of them are here and at other auditions like this. But I still think we have a chance. When Tristan first came to me with his idea, he pointed out that we’d have somewhat of an advantage because we’ve been performing together pretty much since we were kids. We know each other inside and out, we’ve had years to find what works for us, and even though it might sound arrogant, he’s right, we are amazing together on stage. More importantly, though, he has this aura around him, a magnetism people can’t escape. They’re drawn to him like moths to the flame. Point in case? As I’m tuning my guitar and looking for him, I can already see one of the producers following him with her eyes, taking a note on her clipboard. 

Not even five minutes later, we have a camera in our faces and are telling an abbreviated version of our story to the casting team. It won’t be aired right away (in fact, we might have to do it again, they tell us, in more detail), and we don’t play it up, but it’s easy to see the sparkle in their eyes. They all know they have an emotional gem right in front of them; people will love it, they’ll root for us, or more precisely, Tristan. And the way they study me? Yeah, they damn well know what he is to me; they’ve probably seen every one of my longing glances in his direction since we’ve arrived. How Tristan doesn’t see it, I will never know. I just know I will never tell him. Because as painful as it is to know he won’t ever love me the way I love him, it’s better than either seeing the regret in his eyes for not feeling the same and, in his eyes, letting me down, or losing him entirely because he gets the crazy idea that it would be easier for me to live without him in my life. So, yeah, I’ll deal with the pity in the producers’ eyes, I’ll deal with the quiet snickering of some of the other competitors, and I’ll deal with my heartache, as long as it means I can keep Tristan as my best friend. 

Not long after our interview, we’re led into a large conference room nearby where we’re asked to sing the song we’ve prepared. There’s no panel of celebrity judges for this very first open audition, but the cameras are already rolling. Some of what they record will be used for marketing, but most of it will never air. Instead, the producers will use the material to make sure they invite the right people for the actual auditions. 

They gave us two barstools to perch on, and as we get comfortable and arrange our guitars, Tristan looks over to me. He grins at me with his trademark grin, the one that makes his dimples come out and his eyes crinkle, the grin that he rarely shows these days. Now, it only comes out when he’s on stage, and on quiet days when he sees me. Knowing I’m one of the few things that can still make him smile is not helping me get over my feelings, and when he winks at me, it’s like a dagger to my heart. But I’m here to help him, and we’ve been doing this for so long and I love performing with him so much that it is the easiest thing in the world for me to smile back at him. 

“Ready to get us onto the big stage?” he asks with a cockiness that only comes out when he’s set up to entertain the crowd. 

“Yeah, let’s do this,” I reply, and we turn to the group of producers sitting in front of us. 

After a short round of greeting, they ask us what song they’ll hear from us. 

“We’ll sing our version of “Brother“ for you,” Tristan says.

One member of the production team raises an eyebrow at the mention of “our version” but we’re not worried. We haven’t gone crazy, we’ve just made it into a duet. The song was an easy choice. It works with both our voices, sure, but what’s more important, it perfectly reflects our relationship. Well, almost perfectly, because I see Tristan as anything but a brother, but yes, I know he would rescue me (and has in the past), and I would give my lungs to him without hesitation. We don’t come from the same blood but we’re family. No matter where life might take us, I know we’ll be together until the end. The duet makes it less dramatic than the original, or at least the music video, because we’re both still here. But the song still carries all the love between us, without being romantic. And I know Tristan doesn’t care what people think, but I was in favor of it exactly because of that, too. Even though he has no problem with me being gay, that’s not the reality for everybody out there. And losing votes because some people might have a problem with two guys singing love songs together is not something we can afford. 

With a nod from the production team, we strum our guitars and fall into the song. Singing together comes as easily as breathing to us. And, as always, it works. There’s always a moment, only a few seconds, when people need to adjust to hearing a different version of a song they know, but after the first few lines, the team smiles. They take notes, they move along with the melody. 

Once we’re finished, it takes them no time at all to tell us they want to see us in front of the judges. We thank them and slip out the door. 

Back in the hallway, Tristan pulls me into his arms. “Thank you, Jamie. I knew we could do it. You’re awesome for doing this with me,” he tells me as he tightens his grip and picks me up with a laugh. 

He has no idea what it’s doing to me to be this close to him, to be the object of the casual display of his strength, to smell the notes of citrus in his hair from his shampoo. 

“You’re my best friend, you know I’d do anything for you, man. And this is no hardship at all. We’re always singing together anyway,” I tell him. I do my best to make my voice sound normal, which isn’t easy because he’s still holding me tight, and my feet are still in the air. “Come on, put me down, T.” I even manage a chuckle. 

He lets me down, but still holds on to my shoulders. His eyes are serious when he answers me. “We haven’t been singing together for weeks now, not like this. And I know you being here means your uncle has more work to do than usual. I’m sorry about that, Jamie. You know I’m not taking all you do for me for granted, right?”

Man, those Farley bastards have done a number on him. Tristan has never been this insecure, this lost. I love that he trusts me enough to show his vulnerability and rely on me, but it hurts my soul to see the man who’s usually so full of life making himself so small. The situation with his parents is bad enough, but even that he handles with enough optimism and grace to carry all of them through it. But what the Farleys do to him borders on psychological warfare. I just know they will try to use what we’re doing now against him as well. But I won’t let them. 

“Of course I know that, Tristan. Come on, we’ve been joking about showing up to an audition like this since we were teenagers. A lot is riding on this, I know that, but this is pretty much the big adventure we’ve always planned, just a little later than expected.” It’s a silly thing to say, but I know that’s what he needs right now to get out of here with a smile on his face while everybody is still watching. 

I can see the moment he realizes what I’m doing, and there’s a spark of gratitude in his eyes right before the smooth mask of the entertainer - still friendly, still a good guy, but with a somewhat professional distance - slips into place. 

“Right, yes, this is our big quest. Okay, first things first, let’s get to our hotel. I need to call Maddie and let her know how it went.” His smile turns soft as soon as he mentions his daughter. 

“Yeah, let’s do that,” I agree before I reach out to squeeze his shoulder once, then turn around to leave through the lobby. The audition was held at a larger hotel, and we decided to rent a room at a place a few blocks away to save some money. Should we really advance through the next rounds, our budgets will be stretched thin by the expenses. Splurging on a better room early on is not a smart idea. 

I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know Tristan is right behind me. We’ve always been following each other.

Tristan

As I’m sitting on the hotel bed, my emotions are at war. 

I’m excited to be here, to have this time with Jamie. We haven’t had time to just be friends doing what we love together in far too long. A big part preventing us from that is me. I have good reasons, and I know Jamie understands. It still makes me feel like I’m not doing right by him, all while he’s doing so much to help me. There’s just been so much going on ever since my parents had their accident. But being with Jamie always feels like no time has passed since the last time we got a chance to just be. 

I’m elated that we get a chance to perform in front of the judges. When I came up with this idea, I went over the pros and cons for days before I actually asked Jamie. We’re great together on stage, and I wouldn’t even have suggested it if I didn’t think we have a real chance. But I know Maddie’s grandparents will use it as another way to argue I’m not fit to be a parent to her. But seeing how quickly the producers invited us to the next round, I know we’re on the right track. Somehow, this will work. It has to. 

But as ecstatic as I am, guilt is eating at me at the same time. I dragged Jamie away from his uncle’s shop. His uncle had run the business alone for a long time before he took in Jamie. But ever since then, they’ve been working together. I know his uncle is still fit, and Jamie has been away for short vacations before, but with this, we can’t even say for how long we’ll be gone from home. And being away from home just makes another huge wave of guilt crash over me. My parents both encouraged me to do this, but Mom still needs a lot of help. Dad is doing better nowadays, and he assured me over and over he’d be fine looking after Maddie and Mom, and Jamie’s uncle offered his help as well. But leaving everybody behind like this after I haven’t been away from home in years now made me feel like an asshole who’s dodging all his responsibilities. This has to be worth it in the end, and I’ll give it all that I can. 

All my troubles are washed away, though, when the vall connects and I see my little girl’s face fill the screen, my dad sitting behind her, holding the phone. 

“Daddy!” Maddie cheers and wiggles in place. Her green eyes, so like her mother’s, sparkle with laughter, her brown curls bounce, and her mouth is suspiciously red. “Granny is making cake and I got to lick the spoon! It was sooo yummy!”

Ah, yes, she’s on a sugar high from my mother’s red velvet cake. My poor dad. Then again, I told him that they could tell her no. He told me it was the grandparents’ privilege to spoil their grandkids. Which means, as guilty as I feel for leaving in general, this is on him, and he’ll have to deal with it. And if my mother is baking, then it’s a good day. They’ll be fine. 

“Hey, Princess. That sounds awesome, I’m jealous. Make sure Granny saves a piece of cake for me.”

Her little nose crinkles. “Urgh, but Daddy, you’re gone for soooo long, the cake will be bad when you get back!”

We can’t help it, and my dad and I both throw our heads back and laugh. 

“I’m sure your Grandma can put a slice into the freezer,” my dad tells Maddie, and she looks at him with huge eyes. 

“Ooh, yes, let’s do that! Then Daddy can eat it when he wins, that would be a good prize!”

It’s a child’s optimism, but it fills my heart with joy. I’m incredibly grateful that she accepted me so easily, and even though she can be a handful when she’s high on energy, she’s an angel. 

“That would indeed be a good prize,” my dad agrees. “But maybe we ask your dad how today went first.”

“Oh, right. How was it? Can you and Uncle Jamie sing on TV now?”

Jamie has been Uncle Jamie almost since she moved in with me. 

I was so out of my depth, and when she was brought to me, she was still having regular nightmares from the fire she and her mother were in, the one that killed Jordan. I tried to learn everything at once, all while trying to comfort her, explain to her why her mom couldn’t come back to her again, why she had to live with a stranger now. With also helping my dad and my mom, who were still recovering from their accident, I was exhausted to the bone. The only thing keeping me afloat was Jamie coming by every day, lending a hand with the household until I found a rhythm - who knew a small kid could produce so much laundry and general chaos? - and looking after Maddie, while I caught some much-needed sleep. He was coloring with her, playing street hockey with her (because yes, my daughter apparently loves hockey), and he has become her favorite karaoke partner. 

He still does all these things, and she loves him for it. The adoration is mutual, though, and I’m pretty sure once he gets out of the bathroom, I’ll have to hand over my phone to him so he and Maddie can chat. Which means I should use the time I have to answer her question. 

“Yeah, Sweetie, we can do that. They liked us and invited us to the next round. But you remember, I cannot promise you what will be shown on TV, right?”

Maddie nodded, earnest as only a six-year-old can be. “I know that. But I’m sure they will show you.”

My heart melts every time she so casually supports us without even realizing that’s what she’s doing. I might not have planned to have children so young, and hell, I didn’t even know about Maddie until just over a year ago, but now I can’t imagine my life without my little girl in it anymore.

“Thank you, Sweetie. I hope so. But now tell me about your day.” I’m anxious to hear how she was without me. It’s the first time we’ve been apart longer than a couple of hours since she’s come to live with me. Jamie and I left in the middle of the night, and I got a sleepy goodbye from her (I had to promise her to wake her up before we hit the road). Then we drove for hours to arrive on time for the first audition. But we live in a small town, even taking a flight wouldn’t have helped because the nearest airport is quite a bit away. We’re just lucky that we’ll be able to stay where we are for this initial part and then the first, and maybe second, audition in front of the judges, because everything from here on out is also being recorded here in the city, no extra travel. When there are longer breaks between recordings we’ll have a chance to get back home, but early on - and hopefully later - the schedule will mean going back and forth isn’t feasible.

“It was awesome! After breakfast, Grandpa took me to the shop and showed me how to change a tire and how to use the car lift, and I helped give a car back to the owner…” she keeps going on and on about all the little tasks my dad let me do at his car shop when I was a kid, too, and I can’t stop the smile spreading on my face. 

Or that it morphs into a grin and the chuckle escaping me, when my dad mouths behind her, “The shop still stands, it’s okay.”

With school and all, I didn’t have a chance before to take her there with me, and maybe I feel a little sad that I couldn’t see firsthand how much in her element she was, but I’m glad for the bonding moment she and her granddad had. They’ve been thick as thieves from the beginning, but it seems they've gotten even closer now. The elation about it mixes with the guilt that my dad had to take on some of the more physical tasks I usually do. Or maybe he didn’t have to, but just wanted to for Maddie; in addition to our regular mechanic, Owen, we hired Colton as a mechanic part-time a few months ago, and he offered to work full-time while I’ll be gone, so there’s really no reason my dad had to work in the actual shop instead of doing the paperwork like he normally does nowadays. 

“That sounds like you had an epic day, Sweetie.”

I barely finish my sentence when the bathroom door opens and Jamie steps out. 

“Is that my favorite little girl I hear? Give me the phone, T,” he demands with a cheerful voice and plops next to me onto the bed, holding out his hand. He’s changed into a t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts after his shower, and his wet hair is still dripping, soaking my pillow. 

In all the years we’ve known each other, I have never seen him even run a towel over his hair. When I was teasing him about it as a teenager, pushing him out of my bed during a sleepover with a laugh, he just looked up from the floor, his eyes shining with mischief. “What? I need it, otherwise I’m too hot to handle,” he told me. We both burst out laughing so loud that my grandma knocked on my door to shush us because grandpa had to get up early. 

I shake my head but hand over my phone, knowing a lost battle when I hear Maddie squeal, “Uncle Jamie!”

I give Jamie a gentle push, though. “Move to your bed, I don’t want to sleep in a puddle.” 

For the fraction of a second, there’s something in his eyes I can’t decipher, but then he gets up, grumbling, and moves to his own bed.

I hear him greet my dad, but then his focus shifts back to Maddie. Those two can chat for hours if you let them, so I do the only sensible thing: I grab my own stuff and vanish into the bathroom to shower.