Wreck the Halls

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.”