Perfect Redemption

One: In Which He Gets Held Against His Will By a Sword

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[ J A X ' S P O V ]

"I don't understand why I can't live in one of your apartment studios or something," I say, exasperated from carrying the amount of baggage I have loaded in my car.

It is actually times like this where I wish that Edna, my housekeeper in Boston, followed me all the way here. I had been really tempted to do so but the idiotic part of me thought that I needed a little bit of tough love. So I sacrificed Edna and decided that I could do fine without her.

What a whole load of horseshit.

"No way," my father's voice rings in my ears. "I told you that you can't live in any of them. I only have three-I'm actually currently living in one of them, the one near ABC studios so I can get to work. The other I'm getting kicked out of since fucking CW wouldn't renew my fucking contract for The Ringer-"

"Dad, does it look like I give a fuck about your work?" I say in a bored tone.

I wedge the phone between my ears so I can heave the last of my suitcases from the boot of the car. I lose my grip and tumbles forward, landing sideways on the road.

      A string of curse words escape my mouth as I attempt to crouch down, my phone still struggling to balance itself on my right shoulder and drag it upwards so it's back into it's normal position.

The suitcase is already dented but fuck that. Mom said it belonged to my step-father and I hate his fucking guts so I guess this could be a mini middle finger to him. Speaking of which, I'm actually due for a Snapchat to be sent to my step-father. You can only guess which part of my anatomy will be starring in that picture today.

Fuck, it's not the dick. I swear, everyone always think it's the dick.

I was talking about my middle finger, you perverted fucks.

"You know, you could express some interest in me," my father tells me. "After all, it was me that had to convince your mom that moving to LA for the summer is a good decision. I actually do think it's the wisest decision you've ever made, and that's actually saying something considering that all your decisions leading up to this moment have been really fucking stupid."

I guess I know where I get my habit of swearing from.

"Honestly?" I drop my duffle bag on top of the suitcase so that I can use my hand to hold the phone again. "I really don't care about what you do with your acting career. So what if CW dropped you? The Ringer sucked ass anyway. It only had a 6.1 on IMDB—which in my opinion, is an absolute failure. I'm actually embarrassed for you to be starring in that mess of a show."

"You watched my show?" My dad's interest is now piqued.

"Yes. And like I said, I'm humiliated to be associated with you. My gang in Boston will never take me seriously now."

"You watched my show," he breathes and I mentally curse at myself for revealing this now.

Yes, I have watched all eight television shows and four movies that he has ever starred in. I didn't want to admit it because I'm an asshole.

Baxton Hugh Deneris had been a breakthrough star ever since he starred in this one indie movie that was made in Boston. His friend had been the director and he was just helping him out by filling in as the main character, since they had no budget to hire real actors. Even though the rankings for the movie were shit, it didn't stop producers in Hollywood to take notice of his talent.