Wreck the Halls: A Novel

They arrived with four minutes to spare.

Beat stood backstage with Melody watching Hoda tease the upcoming segment, their sides heaving from the mad dash into 30 Rockefeller Center, then down a maze of hallways to the Today show soundstage. He dodged the makeup sponge that a young woman in a headset attempted to dab on his face, thanking her with a polite smile. And basically, just went back to staring at Melody—a habit he would never, ever be kicking.

His shoulders were lighter today, along with his head. He’d been living with misplaced guilt for so long, he’d grown used to it. Learned to carry it while acting normal. But Melody . . . she’d come along and helped him peel it off. Maybe he would never be a man who took his advantages for granted, but that was a good thing. As long as he could look into this woman’s eyes and hold nothing back, he was free.

This incredible lightness, the exhilaration of being in love, made Beat want to do something impulsive. Like propose to Melody on the Today show.

Was it too soon?

On paper, yes. Way too soon.

But they would know better. They would know they’d always been soulmates, they’d just been living separate lives. This reality show was the last resort that turned out to be the best decision he’d ever made. It brought them together and he’d be forever grateful for that.

What if I just do it?

What if I just ask her to marry me?

She would say yes. He’d move to Brooklyn or she’d join him across the river. They would get married with no cameras around, just the two of them. He would lay a map out in front of her and ask her where she wanted to go until this pandemonium died down. Budapest, Bruges, Bali. Anywhere. As long as they were together.

Someone shouted a one-minute warning and Melody squeezed his hand.

She gave him the most trusting look while Danielle ran a brush through Melody’s hair and everything was right in the world. They might not reunite Steel Birds, but as soon as Christmas Eve came and went and the live stream went dark, he would come up with the money to pay off the blackmailer, whether the money came via a loan or the network’s coffers—and he’d be over that final hurdle.

Nothing but time to spend on Melody.

God, his chest was going to split wide open from carrying this much optimism. When was the last time he’d felt any at all? It was her. It was this miracle standing beside him.

That does it. I’m proposing.

Hoda’s voice rose once again from the soundstage and a stoic man stood in front of them counting down their entrance on his fingers without a word. The host turned her smiling face toward the backstage exit and they were directed to a row of chairs.

Three chairs.

That didn’t necessarily strike Beat as odd. Maybe the next segment had three guests?

“And now! They are the worldwide phenomenon that has shaken the internet this week, making them household names overnight. The Today show gives a warm welcome to Beat Dawkins and Melody Gallard!”

Beat helped Melody on to the high seat, blocking her lower body from view while she crossed her legs and arranged the dress, because that sucker was hot as hell, but it was short. If they’d arrived in time to spend a single second alone in the green room, Beat was positive his hands would have been beneath that thing, exploring every sweet inch of her. God, he’d never been hornier in his life and his thirst for Melody was unquenchable.

Finished arranging herself, Melody gave him a grateful smile and he leaned down to kiss her mouth, before taking his own seat, squinting into the powerful lighting.

“Well, consider me flustered!” Hoda enthused, fanning herself with the cards in her hand. “In fact, consider the entire world flustered. I can’t even begin to imagine what a wild ride Wreck the Halls has been for you both—but that’s the thing! I don’t have to imagine it, because I can watch every single second of the journey. Did you expect your lives to be turned completely upside down?”

Beat squeezed Melody’s knee, keeping his hand there. Go ahead, he mouthed.

“No, I don’t think we anticipated having to don disguises to escape Prospect Park,” she answered Hoda with a small smile, but she stopped herself and thought for a moment. “Maybe we didn’t expect this degree of interest, but I think we knew we had to be ready for everything. The Steel Birds have always been a fascination and we wanted to reunite them. Naturally people would be interested.”

Hoda nodded eagerly. “Yes, but somewhere along the line, the show became more about you two than the band! Did your romance begin to take shape during that famous—and mysterious—night in the attic? Or was it before that?”

“Before,” Beat said, leaving it at that.

“Before,” Melody echoed, her cheeks flushing slightly.

Hoda tilted her head. “Are you going to give us any clue about what happened in the attic? You know I have to ask!”

Melody gave him a serious look. “I think it’s time.”

His brows drew together. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Melody took a deep breath, blew it out, and looked at Hoda. “We played Uno.”

“She won the first game. I took the second. I think we passed out during the third?”

“Yes. You woke up with a Reverse card stuck to your forehead.”

Beat sighed. “It’s all true.”

Hoda was laughing. “Oh, you two. We’re going to get it out of you someday!” She scrunched up her nose. “Can you at least confirm you’re officially girlfriend and boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Melody said, no hesitation and Beat’s heart tripled in size. “We are.”

This was it. No better moment to make her his fiancée.

Beat started to rise from the chair, but Hoda pressed on in a different voice than before. As if what she was preparing to say held a lot of gravity.

He hesitated—and it cost him.

“Now. While the show might have become a Beat and Melody lovefest, of course everyone still wants to see Steel Birds grace the stage again.” Hoda paused, her attention darting briefly toward the crew. “And in that vein, we have a little surprise for you! We have called in reinforcements to help make this reunion happen. Today show, please welcome the original drummer of the legendary Steel Birds, Fletcher Carr.”

Beat’s heart dropped into his stomach. In an instant, his skin turned hot and clammy.

Hoda’s voice became distorted as his biological father walked out from behind a black curtain and sat down in the chair beside him. Beat couldn’t feel his fingertips, nor could he hear what was being said. Not over the riotous pounding of his pulse.

This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening.

God oh God. His first instinct was to get Melody far away from this man. Carry her out of there in his arms. Put as much distance between them as possible so Carr’s filth wouldn’t touch her. But Beat couldn’t do that without giving himself away, could he? Without making it obvious that he had an existing relationship with the drummer? At the very least, questions would abound and he wasn’t ready or prepared to answer them.

What if Carr had come onto the show specifically to out Octavia?

With the current interest surrounding Steel Birds, not to mention the explosion of Wreck the Halls, maybe he was offered more money for his story than he’d demanded from Beat. He couldn’t ask, because they were live on the air. And Melody was looking at him curiously, probably because sweat was forming on his hairline and his hand was attempting to squeeze the life out of her knee. Calm down. Brazen it out. Don’t let him rattle you.

“Am I correct in saying you’re meeting for the very first time?” Hoda asked, completely unaware of the five years of paranoia and panic this man had inflicted.

“Yes,” Beat managed, clearing his throat. Though it made his skin crawl, he reached over and shook the hand of his biological father. When Melody did the same, Beat had to physically restrain himself from ripping their hands apart. “I do know from my mother that he didn’t complete the final tour with the band.”

“No, I did not,” Fletcher confirmed with a toothy grin. “Considering your moms broke up before they could finish that last tour, maybe I was the secret ingredient all along.”

Hoda laughed, but her indulgent smile had faded slightly. “Interesting theory—”

“I did run into Octavia after they kicked me out of the band, however,” Fletcher interrupted, snapping his fingers and looking pointedly at Beat. “I can’t speak for Trina, but Octavia definitely missed me. Despite what she might say.”

Beat’s pulse faltered, the studio lights looming like giant suns.

“And now for the even bigger surprise!” Hoda pressed the cue cards to her chest. “Fletcher is offering to be part of the Christmas Eve reunion!”

“That’s right. I’d love to be a part of it.” The drummer winked at the camera. “If they’ll have me, of course. The original trio. Back together.” Outside in the plaza, the crowd watching the broadcast live erupted in a deafening cacophony of cheers. The drummer chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “I guess the public has spoken.”

Beat could barely remember the rest of the segment. It might have lasted a minute or an hour. Melody and Hoda carried the conversation, which was mostly about Trina and the odds of her changing her mind about reuniting. Beat could feel Fletcher’s eyes on him the whole time and he endured it happily, because it was better than Fletcher looking at Melody.

When Hoda bid them good luck and went to commercial, Beat forced himself to stand and help Melody from the chair, keeping himself as a barrier between his real father and the girl he wanted to marry. Melody and Hoda fell into a lively conversation about her dress, leading to Melody complimenting Hoda’s wardrobe.

“I’m done for the day, Melody,” Hoda said, unclipping her microphone. “Can you sneak back to my dressing room for a moment? That’s where my phone is charging and I’d love a selfie.”

“I’d love one, too!” Melody glanced back at Beat, beautiful in her excitement. “I’ll be right back.”

He nodded jerkily, once again quelling the urge to hustle her out of there.

“Great,” said Fletcher behind him. “That’ll give us a chance to talk. Man to man.”

They were within earshot of several crew members and since Beat wouldn’t put it past the bastard to air his family’s dirty laundry in front of everyone, he strode past the drummer into the backstage area, which was now beginning to empty of crew members, the show having wrapped for the day. “There doesn’t need to be a conversation,” Beat said, turning to face his father. “Nothing has changed since the last time we talked.”

Fletcher took his time responding. “Hasn’t it?”

The nape of Beat’s neck turned like a crank. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Cute little girlfriend you’ve got there.”

It took every ounce of his self-control not to punch the motherfucker in the face. Don’t you dare talk about her. That’s what he wanted to say, but the vise around his neck was closing. This man had brought up Melody for a reason and Beat’s blood turned icy with dread.

“Congratulations. She’s head over heels for you, man. I bet she’d do just about anything for you,” Fletcher said, removing a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, smacking it against the heel of his hand. “For instance, pay me to keep your big secret.”

A warning screeched in Beat’s head, the veins in his temples pounding painfully.

No, this had to be a nightmare. His mouth was too dry to speak, shock immobilizing him.

“Yeah, that lovestruck way she looks at you? I guarantee she’d protect you at all costs.” He winked at Beat. “Could mean double the payday for me.”

The rage finally exploded within Beat. “Leave her out of this. Or I will kill you.”

Fletcher made a tsking sound. “Your own father?”

Beat had informed this man he wasn’t his father a hundred times, so he didn’t bother wasting his breath now. His only focus in that moment was to protect Melody any way he could. Christ, he’d brought this man into her life. He’d been swallowing Fletcher’s poison for five years and by asking Melody to be part of the show, he’d served her the same toxic brew.

No. This couldn’t go a single step further.

“It’s all for the cameras,” Beat said, desperate. Fucking desperate to keep her out of this maniac’s line of fire. “Haven’t you heard of a scripted reality show? As soon as it’s over, I’ll probably never see her again.”

The lie set his throat on fire, made his stomach pitch with nausea.

Fletcher studied him through narrowed eyes, as if trying to decipher the truth.

Despite the turmoil wreaking havoc on his insides, Beat stared back unblinkingly.

“Sorry if you thought this was some magical love story, but it’s not. You’re welcome to try and pump her for cash, but she’ll tell you to go to hell,” Beat bluffed. “And then she’ll be able to leverage that secret. It’ll lose its power and become her bargaining chip if she wants to sell the story. And you know tell-all offers are going to roll in for her. This thing is huge.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Beat took no satisfaction in the smugness leaking from his father’s expression.

“I know what I saw. You two are the real deal,” said the drummer, but it was easy to see he wasn’t as positive as before. No, he was second-guessing the whole angle.

Good.

Leave her alone.

Don’t you dare go near my girl.

Melody walked backstage with Joseph trailing behind her, filming, but one of the Today show producers beckoned to him. Joseph looked conflicted for a moment, as if deciding whether to speak to a colleague or continue filming. In the end, he switched off the camera and approached the other crew member with a handshake. Beat dug his fingernails into his palms, drawing blood to keep from reaching for Melody. Wrapping her in a bear hug, guarding her against this man’s evil. She held up the screen of her phone so Beat could see the selfie she’d taken with Hoda and he nodded stiffly.

“She wants me to teach her how to play bocce, too! We’re going to have a lady date after the holidays.” Melody reached for Beat’s hand with her free one, natural as breathing, and he forced himself to cross his arms, avoiding it, in what might have been the single worst moment of his life. Melody blinked at him, then at Fletcher, color appearing on her cheekbones.

He’d embarrassed her.

This was a living nightmare.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Did I interrupt?”

“Nah, honey. We’re just shooting the shit,” Fletcher said, observing them in an almost reptilian manner. “You must have another big day of filming ahead. Where are you two jetting off to next?”

Melody lifted a shoulder. “We don’t really have any plans—”

“I need to work,” Beat cut in, the backstage area closing in around him. He had to numb himself. That was the only way he would get through this. Obviously Fletcher had been watching the live stream. The more time he spent observing Beat and Melody, the more positive he was going to be that they were really in love. And he would go after Melody. Being in a relationship with Beat was a liability to her. “Actually, I’m going to be working right up until Christmas Eve.”

“Oh,” Melody said after a few seconds. “Are we . . . giving up on Steel Birds?” She nodded at the drummer. “What if Fletcher’s offer changes something?”

Beat couldn’t even look at her. “Danielle will let me know if Trina comes around.” He gave her a flat smile. “If by some miracle, she agrees to the reunion, I’ll see you on Christmas Eve.”

He could feel the hurt he was exacting on Melody and his insides were deteriorating the longer he stood there. He had to get out of there now, before he caused any more damage. Without a word, he strode for the exit that let out into the hallway.

“Beat, wait,” Melody called after him, catching up with him right before he could walk out the door. Still within spitting distance of his blackmailer. Her potential blackmailer, too, now. Because of him. “Is . . . is something wrong? You’re acting weird.”

“It’s just my turn for a break, Melody. All right?”

She jerked back like he’d slapped her. “Is this because I said we were official on the air?” she asked. “You told the crowd outside of my apartment that we’d spent the night together and I think I just . . . assumed we were . . . you were my boyfriend. Should I have spoken to you about that first?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, hammering the final nail into his coffin. “Maybe you should have.”

It was for her own good.

This was to keep her safe.

Repeating those assurances to himself, over and over, was the only thing that kept him walking upright until the elevator doors closed behind him and he slid down the wall to the floor, head buried in his hands. “Melody.”