The Beautiful & Damned

10 - Honest

honest - /ˈɒnɪst/
free of deceit; truthful and sincere

"You were right. I am a player." He said. "Well, used to be."
I was still sitting next to him.
"But yeah, I admit it. The past couple of years were pretty fucked up."

I only nodded and continued listening to his story.

"When I was starting with the studio and everything, Marty suggested we use the basement in the building. At first I was like are you crazy but then the idea of having it so close to home seemed pretty good, so we did it. I moved here a couple of months before that so I didn't know many people aside from the ones I met at the shop." He said.
"So Marty spread some information around regarding the studio and our work, we sampled some songs and the next thing I know we actually had people coming over. One day I bumped into this chick at the building entrance. She was looking for me, saying she heard about Marty and I and asked for help."
He stopped talking for a few seconds.

"You're doing great, go on." I was holding his hand. I also showed him a little smile, for encouragement of course. I didn't want him to feel awkward or scared of talking to me.

"So I helped her. She needed a producer to finish a few songs for the sample to give to her manager. We spent a lot of time together and the more I was working with her the more I liked her. We were pretty much on the same page about most things, got along so fucking well that we eventually decided to start dating."
He cleared his throat, looking into my eyes. I just gave him a nod and he grinned at me.

"We were dating for a while, everything was perfect. And I mean it. We did most things together, recorded a few songs at the studio, hung out and partied with our friends, travelled, we were happy; I was happy."

"That's sweet." I said. He was quiet for a while, shaking his head slowly.

"After a while she became distant, most of the time she was nervous, restless, I noticed her spark was fading away, ours too. I assumed she was just anxious cause she was waiting for a response from her manager, she wanted to get signed. So I didn't bug her, I waited and then the truth hit me in the face." He mumbled the last sentence.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I saw her in a car with some guy, she was kissing him and laughing like she used to with me. I thought the guy looked familiar and then I remembered that he came to my studio once before, I forgot his name though.
So I confronted her that night, she broke me in half, saying that I don't make her happy anymore and that she loves Travis or Tony, I don't fucking know what his name was." He scoffed.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I know how much that hurts." I was sympathetic. I too once got caught up in a situation like this.

"It's okay, I lived didn't I?" He chuckled and I smiled, nodding.

"You're a survivor Gerbear." I said. "Sorry for interrupting, go on."

"I told her to leave and then I was basically a train wreck for months. Marty did his best to get me out of the house, take my mind off things, so when he finally succeeded, I got so faded at the club that I could barely see straight. Then I banged a random chick, never called her again after that and that's how it all began. We were going out, getting lit and then I smashed a girl, sometimes two."
He explained. My instincts were on point again; I always knew there was someone who hurt him badly; he didn't just become a player for nothing.