“So, Alan.
I’m Ethan,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, properly.”
“Alan,” he said, even as he tried to squeeze his hand in a way to exert some kind of control, already having some reasonable suspicions about him and Judith.
“Yeah, nice to meet you as well,” he added.
“So, where’s Charlie?” he asked.
“On the deck, drinking,” he said, pointing at the window, where Charlie was halfway visible.
“He had a bad breakup, so it might not be a good time, but I promised Judith, so,” he said.
However, he seemed to relish the possibility of failure.
Before they could reach to balcony, a woman emerged at the corridor, young, with reddish-brown hair, wearing a bikini top and sarong, carrying a smoothie.
Kandi.
He had to say, he was impressed.
Even in the show, she was a rare bombshell.
Here, she looked even better.
He looked at Alan, then at her.
She was truly being wasted.
However, the thing that caught his attention was her eyes.
They were gentle, cheerful, and playful … with just the shadow of an edge that left him doubting.
He wondered if his suspicions about her being smarter than she let on were wrong, or was she a better actor than he expected?
“Hey, you’re new.
I’m Kandi,” she waved cheerfully, which did some excellent things to her breasts, which he enjoyed without any shame.
“Ethan.
A musician—” he started.
That seemed to be enough to raise Alan’s hackles.
“Charlie is on the balcony.
Go meet him,” Alan said as he went to Kandi, and dragged her back to her room.
A smart precaution, he decided.
He still found himself wondering whether Kandi just played Alan, or it was a coincidence.
He prepared to go to the balcony, but before he could do so, Charlie returned to the kitchen with an empty pitcher, pulled margarita mix from the fridge, and walked toward the tequila.
“That’s a terrible drink,” he called.
“Hey, it gets me buzzed,” Charlie replied, then paused, and turned back.
“Also, who the hell are you?”
“Ethan.
Judith’s friend.
I just moved to LA, and she decided to introduce me to you, as a favor.”
Charlie paused, looking at him as if he had two heads.
“And why the hell would I do that bitter shrill any favors?” he asked.
“I don’t even like her.”
“Good point,” he said, then smirked.
“But, technically, she threatened Alan to introduce me, but Alan got too spooked when his girlfriend smiled at me and bailed.”
Charlie sighed.
“Yeah, that sounds like Alan.”
“And, if you don’t help me, Judith is going to take it out on Alan, who then is going to be sad and pathetic around you while he begs his big brother to fix everything, and finally you’ll relent.
This is just cutting out the middleman.”
Charlie tried to look angry, but then sighed.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” he said.
“So, what do we do?
I’ll give you ten minutes.
Ask away.”
“What if I actually make you a proper pitcher of margarita rather than the bottled swill,” he offered.
“Secret recipe.”
That seemed to change his mind almost immediately, which wasn’t a surprise.
Charlie had three things that he cared about.
Booze, women, and music.
Four, if one counted avoiding responsibility.
He checked the fridge, which was full.
He pulled the necessary stuff, not just for a basic margarita, but one of the variants that came with the skill.
One that was actually lighter, but with slight bitterness to hide it.
He didn’t want Charlie to get blackout drunk while they talked.
He let his blade dance as he sliced the lemons and other ingredients.
“Wow, are you a professional bartender or something?” he asked.
“No, but I dabble,” he responded.
He didn’t need to say anything, because Charlie had spent too much time in bars not to miss the expertise it involved.
Once it finished, he poured a glass for Charlie.
He took a sip.
His eyes widened.
“Can I kick Alan out and let you move in,” he said, his frown immediately turning into a smile.
Charlie was not a complicated man to please.
“I don’t think you can survive the ego damage,” he replied with a wink.
Charlie laughed.
“Fine, let’s talk,” he said.
“What do you want?
If you want me to introduce you to producers, I can connect you with a few, but don’t expect much,” he warned.
“What do you play?
Guitar?”
“Mostly piano and cello,” he said.
“Classically trained?”
“Yes, but I don’t want to play while dressed like a penguin, so it’s out,” he said.
“Actually, I’m not looking for anything visible like a band, or something else that’ll bring me fame.
Working as a session musician with a decent day-rate is more than enough.”
That made Charlie shake his head.
“Kid.
There are too many session musicians willing to play for peanuts just to make some connections, so it pays crap.
You have to be a genius to get real money from it.”
“Well, I’m decent,” he said.
“Alright, show me,” Charlie said as they walked to the living room.
“Cello or piano?” he asked.
“Piano.
I don’t know enough about cello to judge you,” he said.
He sat down.
It would be the first time he would be playing the piano, but that didn’t worry him.
Not when he had his little secret.
[Expert Piano Expertise]
[Epic Skill: You are a master of handling the piano, enough to play piano concertos for major orchestras]
He played a simple test, checking the sound of the piano.
It was perfect, showing that, Charlie might be careless with other things, including his body, but he cared for his piano.
He started with something basic, at least basic for a professional musician.
Moonlight sonata, but he played about fifteen seconds before he skipped to its most complicated part, then switched to a couple of pop and rock songs, first a small section straight, then replaying them with a complicated rearrangement.
Curious of his limits, he finished it with one of the most complicated piano concertos … which, unfortunately; he failed to play perfectly.
It showed that even expert skill had its limits.
“How was it?” he asked.
Charlie gaped.
“Man, that was a masterpiece,” he said.
“Are you as good on cello?”
“Not as good, but decent enough,” he said.
“And when you say decent?”
“Good enough to get the first chair through a fair audition,” he said.
“I’ll be damned.
You’re a genius.
Man, what are you doing trying to get my support?
Just get a few voice lessons, and with your face, you’re guaranteed to be famous.”
He waved his hand.
“I don’t want the fame.”
That seemed to stump Charlie.
“Why the hell not?”
“Well, that looks like something we can talk about on the deck while watching sexy girls in bikinis playing beach volleyball,” he said.
“We can even bet on which one’s outfit will fail first,” Charlie said.
“I’m game if you’re,” Ethan responded, not afraid of betting on that.
After all, what better way to put his fashion knowledge to use?
They moved to the deck, and Charlie took a sip.
“So, tell me. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Why are you doing the opposite of every single musician who moves to LA, and not want to be famous?”
Ethan sighed.
“Because I want to enjoy my life,” he said.
“Charlie scoffed.
And, fame will prevent you from that?”
“Oh, certainly,” Ethan nodded.
“Imagine that you can’t walk around without being accosted by annoying fans asking for your autograph, or paparazzi hounding you constantly?” He shook his head.
“No, that’s no life.
That’s prison with extra steps.”
“Good point.
But imagine the women…”
“That’s a part of it,” Ethan replied.
“Men, then, if you’re swinging that way?”
Ethan chuckled.
“No.
I’m strictly on team boobs,” he said, and Charlie chuckled.
“However, half the fun of casual sex comes from seducing them.
In a crass way, it’s like hunting.
If the deer comes in front of you and ties herself down, it won’t be as fun.”
That made him pause.
“Alright, I can see your point, but I’m lazy.
I’m more than fine with tied deer, as long as they are sexy.” He took another sip from the margarita.
“Damn, this is good,” he repeated.
“Ethan, from now on, you have a standing invitation.
Come whenever you want as long as you handle the drinks.”
“Deal,” he said.
Charlie took another sip.
“Do you really need the music thing?” he asked.
“You’re really good.
All you need to go and knock next door, and Steven will hire you in a heartbeat.”
“Steven?”
“Steven Tyler,” he added.
“Good neighbor, as long as he doesn’t play the harmonica.”
He chuckled.
“I mean, technically, that’s the kind of thing that you can help with .
If I knock on his door, I’ll be tackled by the security.”
“Good point.”
“But, to be frank, I don’t want to start working for famous musicians.
I can easily make a thousand-dollar day by playing the street, and that would tide me over until I can find something that pays better without the egos involved.
I come here, because Judith wanted to do something for me.
She was being nice, so it’s rude to turn her down.”
“Judith, being nice?” Charlie said, disbelieving.
“Also, now that we’re on the topic.
Judith?
Really?”
He chuckled.
“I can see where you’re coming from, considering your exposure is always through Alan, but she is surprisingly fun when you know how to approach her.”
“Really?” he said.
“How?”
Ethan made a show of zipping his mouth.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” he said.
“Fine,” he said, then turned his attention to the beach.
“How about that game instead?
I put two hundred on the redhead.
She’s too mobile not to have an accident.”
He chuckled.
“That’s a terrible bet.
She moves too much because she’s prepared.
A thousand on the blonde with curly hair.”
“Deal.
She’s just standing there.
There’s no way she has an accident,” Charlie said.
They made the bet, and soon, Ethan was a thousand dollars richer.
And to Charlie’s credit, he didn’t even blink before he pulled a thousand from his pocket and passed it to him.
“Again, double or nothing.
This time with the brunette in the striped top.”
“Fine by me,” Ethan said.
That led to a weird but fun game.
They ogled the beautiful women on the beach, talked about music, chatted about life; and all the while, he hustled Charlie, which Charlie didn’t seem to care.
But then, Charlie played to have fun, not win…
It was fun.
For all his faults, Charlie in his relaxed state was genuinely entertaining and charming.
Though, the more he talked, the more he wanted to help him.
He didn’t feel guilty about Mia, especially since he knew that letting that relationship continue would have hurt both of them.
Mia and Charlie was wrong for each other every way possible.
“So, tell me.
Why were you so gloomy when I arrived?
Alan mentioned something about a breakup?”
He didn’t, but blaming Alan was always fun.
Charlie said nothing, then took a sip.
“It’s boring.”
“Bore me, then,” Ethan said.
“I drank your booze and won your money.
The least I can do is listen to you.”
“Fine.
I just got dumped like two days ago,” he said.
“Long relationship?”
“Yes and no,” he said.
“Weird one.” Then, Charlie told the story of him and Mia from his perspective.
How he met her, rejected her, used Jake to seduce her, left her to keep Jake happy, reconnected only to stay away from sex while she made him give up drinking and smoking and eating red meat, and make him jog.
He even talked about the debacle of having sex with others.
“I think it was kind of test, but I failed,” Charlie said.
“I mean, why should she care?
It wasn’t like we were having sex!” he complained.
“Interesting story,” Ethan said.
“But, if you ask me, the breakup was a good thing.
From what you told me, you two are too incompatible,” he said.
“I agree.
I’m incapable of changing,” Charlie declared proudly, but he didn’t miss the bitterness on his tone.
“That’s not necessarily true, but you can’t change for a woman.
Any woman.
It’s unfair to them.
You want to change for yourself,” he said.
“Really?
Isn’t it better to change for a woman?
You know, the power of love and all that crap.”
Ethan scoffed.
“Only if you want to start resenting her until whatever love you have turns into bitterness, and you get either divorced or turn into a a bitter, sniveling shell of a man.”
“Or both, like my dear brother,” he said with a laugh.
“Exactly.
Though thats only because Judith kicked him out.
I met him for a minute, but he’s very transparent.
Can you imagine him actually trying to make a radical move solving something?”
“Still, it can be true; there’s a lot of happy marriages.”
Ethan scoffed.
“And, how many of those happy marriages have wives that end up in your bed because they resent their husbands or search for a moment of reprieve from their marriage.”
“Too many,” Charlie said, his smile smug.
Not surprisingly, as Charlie was a proud womanizer.
“You should be a therapist.
He waved his hand.
“I have advantages.
Judith complained about your mother more than once, enough to give me a general idea of her.
I have lived through something similar.”
“Judith talked about her, huh?”
“Well, mostly insults.
I’m sure she’s exaggerating.
There’s no way she called Judith a ‘mousy bitch’ at the wedding reception.”
Charlie laughed.
“No.
She managed to work it up into the wedding toast,” Charlie said.
Ethan acted surprised.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.
Really?”
“Whatever Judith said, Mom probably did worse.
She’s the worst,” Charlie said, then took a deep sigh.
“And, you’re probably right.
She was too good for me anyway—” Ethan dipped his finger and flicked some alcohol to his face, interrupting him.
“Hey, what was that for?”
“I decided you need to be stopped before getting stupid and depressive.
You’re thinking it wrong.
It’s not about who is better or worse.
Idealizing her, or anyone in a relationship, is even worse.
The issue is incompatibility.
Can you imagine yourself living with someone who goes to bed at nine, wakes up at five to exercise, and splits her time between teaching and dancing, with visiting art galleries as her favorite activity?
How much time would it take when she comments snidely on your eating habits or drinking?”
To his credit, he paused and actually thought about it.
“Fuck.
You’re right.
Two weeks, a month at most,” he said.
“Maybe I should want to change.
The way I live…”
Ethan chuckled.
“That’s a different point.
There’s no medical professional in the world that would disagree with that statement.
Still, you can’t just find a woman and make her responsible for your choices.
A partner is not a replacement for a mother … a real one.
Maybe start by just cut down drinking and add a little exercise rather than going full vegan.”
He grimaced.
“Well, you’re right.
That was a mistake.
Do you know what tofu tastes like?
It’s like sadness and depression had an ugly baby.”
Ethan chuckled.
“Actually, it can be quite tasty, but I imagine you went to one of those hip new vegan places.
Those places take pride in turning food into an inedible mess.
If you want to try vegetarian, find a decent Indian place.
They will blow your mind.”
“If you want to change, there’s only two things that you need to consider.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you actually want to change?
And, are you willing to pay the price?”
“And, by price, I’m guessing not money.”
“Nope, time and effort.
Think of change as a hooker in Vegas, ten thousand dollars might get you a goddess, while ten dollars…”
“Gets you STDs and disappointment,” he said.
“I’m very familiar with that equation.” Charlie sighed.
“I still don’t want to turn into someone wearing plaid and waiting in DMV line.
I like my life.”
“Dude, you’re rich, charismatic, and handsome.
You don’t need to turn into your brother just because you want to change.
However, you need to change one thing if you really want to change.”
“What’s that?”
“Start doing things because you enjoy it, not because it’s more comfortable than staying alone.
It’s about not hating yourself.”
He sighed.
“I don’t think that’s even possible.”
“Not easy.
It probably needs a lot of therapy.”
“I have a therapist.
She is one of the best.”
“And, you actually listen to her advice and speak honestly with her, or use glib and charm to distract her to avoid anything uncomfortable.”
“Boy.
You can see through me easily, right?”
“You’re a surprisingly honest man, Charlie.
One just needs to see past the empty drink bottles.
If you decide you want to change, you can.
But you have to walk that road for yourself.
Without the motivation of getting someone back.
You figure out which parts of yourself you actually want to improve, not because a beautiful ballerina told you to, but because you looked in the mirror and decided on who should look back at you.”
“And if I look in the mirror and decide I’m fine?”
“Then you’re fine.
But, just a quick piece of advice.
Men who are actually fine don’t feel like suffocating when they are alone and sober.”
Charlie went very still.
“Are you sure you’re not gay?
Because that was a hell of a line if you want to take me to bed.”
Ethan chuckled, recognizing the deflection, but he didn’t push for more.
He wasn’t kidding when he said Charlie had to make that decision on his own.
“Believe me, there’s only one person under this roof I will bed, and she’s currently busy having what I’m assuming to be very disappointing sex with your brother.”
Charlie chuckled.
“Oh, yeah.
That’s a train wreck.”
“It’ll get worse when they get married.”
He scoffed.
“Come on, there’s no way.
I know my brother is stupid enough to spend all his paycheck buying her a new car and pay her dentist bill and pay for her acting classes, but even he can’t be that stupid…”
Ethan said nothing, just quirked an eyebrow.
“God damn.
He’s that stupid, is he?” Charlie said, then shrugged.
“Not my problem.
It’s not like I ever expected him to move out in the first place.
It doesn’t matter if he pays one alimony or two, and at worst, if Jake achieves the impossible and get in a college, I’ll just pay for it.”
They fell silent, saying nothing as they drank in silence.
Charlie sighed.
“Too bad the volleyball game is about to end,” he said.
His response was another smirk.
“That, my new friend, is a bad way of looking at it.
What we have is an opportunity?”
“What kind of opportunity?”
“You can play jazz, right?” he said.
Charlie nodded.
“How many minutes do you think I need to convince them that we need an audience to give opinions on our newest song?”
Charlie matched his smirk.
“Oh, this is truly the start of a beautiful friendship.
I put a grand that you’ll need more than ten minutes.”
Ethan shook his hand.
“I’ll take that action.”
He convinced them in three.