Chapter One

Cardinal

It was so damn hard to focus. I took a deep breath and stared at the stage lights that caused the sea of faces to fade into the background. Speech. I had to give the speech.

“It’s my pleasure to accept this AMA, and I hope you’ll give me a moment to explain why this is such a monumental event for me…” I touched the headphones around my neck, my trademark. Only a few people knew why I always had them with me and almost always had them on. The information was about to go public; it was about time.

“When I was in high school, I reached a crossroads in my life. I had lived in undiagnosed high-functioning autism for so long that failure in many aspects of my life was the norm.”

I took a deep breath, again concentrating on the lights, forcing the other distractions to mute, just like I’d trained myself to do for almost a decade.

Unless I had the silence or a way to simply filter the stimuli, it took all my energy to act normal, to focus. But when I could direct my attention to one thing… damn, it was incredible how I could hear what others couldn’t, especially when it came to music. I gathered my thoughts and continued with the prompted speech I’d painstakingly written.

“Distraction. It was everywhere, and no matter how I tried to filter it out, it kept spinning in my mind, working together, mixing and twisting till I could hear every separate track that was part of the whole.”

Music. Just thinking the word sent a shiver through me; it was my salvation, my drug, my life.

“Where other kids were able to sit in class and listen to the teacher explain the finer aspects of geometry, I heard something completely different. The scrape of the chalk on the board, along with the scratching of Maya’s pen as she drew her name with Luke’s last name, over and over. The sound of the bell in the other building, the screech of the chair on the industrial tile floor — all of it worked together to make an introduction to a song. If I added a low B below middle C, then added in a slight beat just shy of a 120 tempo — I would even tap my book ever so lightly with the end of my pencil, adding in the missing percussion as I hummed a low sound, just enough for me to hear. It was a solid start; all it needed was a bass line arpeggio of the one, fourth, and fifth—” I took a breath. “You get the picture.”

The audience chuckled a little; hopefully, that meant they at least partially understood.

“When the teachers would notice I was distracted, he’d call on me to answer a question or repeat what he had just said.” My hands grew damp at the memory. “Almost always, I couldn’t remember. And I was honest. Because, while I was failing class, I wasn’t a liar.” I shook my head. Still wasn’t, and I was damn proud of it.

“But it never stopped, and after a few minutes, my mind would wander, and I’d create a different song, unique and fresh, and walk away from school at the end of the day knowing absolutely jack shit about what I was supposed to learn.” I grinned, trying to soften the brutal honesty. I bit my lip ring and slowly released it, sighing.

“When I was a junior, and my semester grades showed up on the school’s parents’ portal, I knew I was about to have my ass chewed…”

I paused for effect. “…again.”

The crowd murmured, some giggled, and others seemed to understand my struggle. After all, what teenager didn’t get his ass chewed by his parents at least once?

“My parents tried to understand, but my mom thought I was doing a half-ass job at school. If it weren’t for my stepdad, I probably wouldn’t have graduated. But he had an idea. And damn it all, if it didn’t fix everything.” I reflected on the following weeks. It was the start of the path that had led me to this moment. The next part of the speech was critical, so I breathed deep, readied.

No distractions.

“My stepdad bought me some noise-canceling headphones. My mom enrolled me in online courses to finish my GED, and my world shifted. I could focus on the sound of the instructor’s voice, or I could simply filter out the rest of the noise and read. So, that’s why I wear the headphones. Most people think I’m just supporting my brand, but I’m actually just dealing with the noise in the only way I know — in the way that my stepdad thought of so long ago. By eradicating the sound, I eliminated the constant distraction. Eventually, I learned how to filter the world without my headphones constantly, but I still wear them. It’s just easier.”

I shifted my feet, eager to be done with the speech, but wanting the message to be clear, needing people to understand.

To have hope.

Resolved, I lifted the award up, my tattoo sleeve peeking through my rolled-up cuff of my white button-down.

“When we eliminate all the unwanted diversions, everything becomes clearer, more focused, and we’re able to chase after what we want. So, in life, don’t be distracted by all the millions of things that steal our time and energy. Focus on that one thing. What do you want?”

I paused.

“With my headphones I was able to listen to the instructor, complete the work, and have enough free time to start my YouTube channel. That was that first step in making me what I am today. It’s been a long road, and I’m nowhere near being finished. But that’s the beauty of music; it only ends when you want it to. Thank you.”

I nodded to the crowd’s applause, turned on my heel, and exited the overly warm stage. The award was cold in my hand, and I slipped my headphones back over my ears and ducked down one of the darker halls backstage.

Blessed silence.

I breathed in, held it, then released the air. My shoulders relaxed their tension, and I regained my mental balance. As the silence enveloped me, my entire body calmed in sequence.

Silence.

It really was golden.

Even if it was manufactured.

More at ease, I entered the main hallway and maneuvered around two large security guards, the exit sign finally in view. Just past those doors was freedom.

My cell buzzed in my pocket as I passed by several members of Taylor Swift’s dance crew, and I nodded and ducked my head to avoid any conversation, just in case. I took the back exit and soon was handing the valet my number so I could make my escape.

Phone buzzing again, I took it out and glanced at the screen. Several texts and two missed calls, all from my production assistant, Maxwell. If he was harassing me right now, something was up.

The Tesla arrived with the valet, and I caught my keys midair. Sliding a tip into the kid’s hand as he held open the car door, I gave a tight smile and slipped into the welcoming leather seat. As I sped away, I called Max, my Bluetooth automatically connecting to my headphones and phone.

“So, I have a situation…” he said by way of greeting.

“Just what I was hoping for.” I groaned, turning onto the main drive away from the theater.

“Jaya? Remember her?” Maxwell asked, knowing full well I knew the bitch.

“What about her?”

“So, Thomas is calling in a favor.”

“Like hell he is,” I replied. My lip ring clinked against my teeth as I twisted my mouth and bit them. No way. Not happening. At least not happening again.

“You wouldn’t believe how many zeros are behind this offer, Cardinal.” Max spoke in a luring tone, the one that reminded me of a baited fishhook.

“Still not doing it.” I turned at the light and focused on the road, ignoring Max.

He didn’t stop talking. “New tactic. She needs you.”

“She needs a lot of things, most of which is a new career. She shot hers to hell and back. It’s not something even I can fix for her — even if I wanted to — which I don’t, so let’s change the subject.”

Jaya had burned the bridge when she’d left my label for a different one, debuting the song that I’d written the night we’d hooked up, claiming she’d written it herself. The song that had disappeared from my kitchen table and that unfortunately hadn’t included a title or my name.

“Karma is a bitch, Max.” I added to the conversation, just to punctuate my point.

“She is, but…” Max paused.

I tensed. Something was coming, and I had the feeling I was going to hate whatever spewed out of his mouth next.

“…because she has to clean up her image, she donating one-hundred percent of her new debut single to cancer research… breast cancer research.”

The air was thick with pressure as the words sunk in to my head.

Breast cancer.

The very monster my mom was currently fighting — the one monster I hated even more than Jaya.

Damn.

As much as I wanted to ignore Max’s words, immediately my mind spun with ideas as to how to capitalize on the concept, make it bigger, raise more money.

More money for research meant that a cure would be that much closer.

And someone else’s mom wouldn’t have to fight as hard as mine.

“I hate you. I hate her. I hate everyone in this f-ing world right now.” I closed my eyes for split second while I pulled up to a red light and groaned.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I hate you most of all.”

“You love me. I make your life easier. You’ll remember that come tomorrow when your ass gets to the studio.”

“I don’t think I’ll be remembering it anytime soon, Max.”

“I’ll remember it for the both of us, bro. I’m going to call her agent back and negotiate. I’ll text you with the start date, but just an FYI… it’s probably going to be ASAP.”

“Whatever, I’d rather just get it over with anyway. Schedule her as quickly as possible, tomorrow if you can. Let’s rip the Band-Aid off. I’ll see you in hell tomorrow.”

“I’ll let you know if the devil will be there.” Max added, a slight smile to his tone.

“Hooray me.” I rolled my eyes and pulled onto the freeway toward home.

The call ended, but the tension stayed, and, if anything, it grew.

Less than ten minutes later, Max texted me.

Cruella Devil will be in the office at 8am.

I didn’t reply.

Maybe if I just pretended I didn’t have to face one of my biggest regrets in the morning, I’d actually be able to relax, get some sleep.

I knew better than to hope.

Tomorrow the devil wouldn’t just wear Prada.

She’d be wearing a smile.

And it was lethal.

Since I wasn’t sure if I knew how to ignore it.

And that was the biggest fear of all…

Because history could not — would not — repeat itself.