Look At Us Now // Daisy Jones & The Six

After the trial concluded for today, most of us convened back at Ryan's top floor hotel suite. It's a civil suit, not a criminal trial. But the more I heard today the more I wished Curt would be cuffed and booked tomorrow when the judge issues his ruling.

Clinton's testimony was damning.

He spent more than three hours on the stand reviewing audio and video footage he'd kept, pointing out the inconsistencies in Curt's story. Not even a day after he'd married Char, Clinton's team caught him with other women. Many other women. I could barely contain myself in my seat hearing there'd been verifiable proof that he was treating Char like shit so early on and Clinton hadn't said anything. I'm still pissed about it, hours later.

The second we isolated in the hotel room, Ryan started threatening to file his own lawsuit against Curt, in addition to the countersuit the band has filed against him for defamation and slander.

"That absolute motherfucker. I can't believe how massively underhanded he's been this entire time. You think you know a guy..." Ryan paces the room, grunting with every other step. The rest of C1 silently stew as they spread out around the suite. Seth leans against the wall in the corner, forehead scrunched as he alternates between watching Ryan pace and checking his phone. Alex sits in the armchair across from me, his feet up on the coffee table like a casual fucker without a care in the world. Ryan's the only one who seems remotely pissed off. Except for Jace who looks like he might toss his cookies as I glance at him over by the window. That guy can barely keep up with his bandmates. How's he going to survive much longer with them?

"We knew he was bad news from day one." Seth counters. "It's on us for turning a blind eye to the rest of it."

"Nah." Alex shakes his head. "Look around. This is the collateral damage left in Curt's wake. He's a tsunami." Alex stands up. "No, no. He's an earthquake. No forewarning. No time to avoid the wreckage."

"He's a fucking disaster, that's for sure." Ryan finally sits down at the table, tapping his fingers against the wood. His foot joins the rhythm against the leg of the chair. "We have to fight back. He bankrolled himself with our money. Band money. That's why he didn't throw as big of a fit as he should have when we kicked him out. He still had a direct line to band funds."

"He threw a pretty big fit," Seth says, side eyeing Jace who hops up and bolts out of the room.

Char looks down the hallway after him. Seconds of silent tension pass. "Is he okay?" She's been curled up next to me since we got here. Clinton showed up ten minutes after we did, once he'd secured Brianna and Zack in their penthouse suite. He knew we'd have questions. But I'm not sure he realized we'd also have grievances.

Seth follows Jace down the hall, to his credit, but Ryan waves them both off. "Curt put him through it, but he's fine."

I have no idea what that means but for now I'll leave it alone. We have bigger issues to figure out.

Another major bombshell Clinton disclosed after stating Curt pilfered money from his own band was that he'd also turned most of the road crew against them with trash talk. Clinton even caught him making a dirty deal with Randy to film Char, Brianna, Zack and his former bandmates every chance he had. Curt payed for Randy's plane ticket, following Char who flew out to see me in Hollywood. Because of all that, Curt turns out to be the source of most of the "pap" or random fan posts smearing all of us, me included. He was trying to smear my name before anyone even knew who I was.

I shake my head. "All of this intel because Clinton planted a guy as a roadie and wired him. Tapped Curt's phone." I look over to where Clinton is sitting. "Isn't wire-tapping some kind of federal crime?"

Clinton shrugs. "Not if it's written in our policy that all company phones have tracing software installed. Not my fault Curt didn't do his due-diligence and check the software's functions before signing the contract. He's really a tech dummy. I tried to warn him early on about his digital footprint."

"His footprint? Why didn't you stop him from getting all up in our footprint before private moments were released to the public?" I ask, the burning frustration in my chest too strong to hide. Ever since listening to Clinton's testimony I've been holding my tongue. It's time to let it fly.

"That was a miscalculation on our part." I'm only slightly satisfied to see Clinton deflate. He knows he screwed up, at least. "He used a decoy, the hotel housekeeping staff, to gain entry. And actually, he didn't set foot in your room as we'd suspected. He gave specific instructions on where to place the camera. Once the video was detected online, our team scrubbed it."

"Not really soon enough, though, was it?" I lean back against the couch, a protective arm slung around Char. Screenshots of the damned video have been poppin up constantly. Clinton's tech team pulls them down as soon as they're posted but the damage is done. Our most intimate moment is now public discourse.

"We should make a statement," Char says, pulling away to look at me. "It's what I would advise Brianna if the tables were turned."

"You'd tell her to make herself even more vulnerable? Open herself up to more attacks on her character?" I don't believe her. Char would never purposefully put Brianna in a bad spot. That's exactly how Brianna ended up meeting Zack. He was her fake boyfriend to cover for the fact she needed more detailed bodyguard coverage due to a stalker. She didn't make Brianna put out a statement about it, not before, and not after.

"In this case I would." Char leans in closer, resting her hand on my chest which I fucking love. I grab her hand with mine and bring them both to my chin.

"What kind of statement?" I settle my voice and tell my inner werewolf to shut up. Char needs me calm, cool and collected right now, even if the only thing I'm thinking is to tear that asshole from limb to limb.

"I would say that we're the two luckiest people in the world because we found each other. That we're grateful our past hurts and trauma hasn't ruined the possibilities we see in our relationship. That once I'd separated myself from my past, I was able to see our friendship develop into more. That you'd wanted nothing more than my happiness and you're glad I've found it with you."

I nod, letting her words sink in. The entire room has their eyes on us. On her, specifically. This woman has been dragged to hell and back by the one man on Earth who's done the same to everyone in his life. And yet, here she sits, the emotionally stable one setting the bar unbelievably high.

What's a former goofball to do but fall even harder for her?

"I literally couldn't have said it better, myself," I say. "Beautiful, sweetheart." I pull her close, kissing her temple and nuzzling in.

"Jacob's right," Seth says. "It's a slow clap moment I'm sensing."

"Yeah," Ryan agrees as he starts the literal slow clap for us. "Killed it. Jacob would have said something real dumb."

"Watch it," I point a knowing look at him. He may be a rock star, but I know way too much for him to be popping off like that.

His hands shoot up in surrender. "Just saying. Don't kill the messenger."

"That wasn't a message. That was a declaration."

"You said it first, bro."

Char pats my chest. "Calm down, tiger. Save that energy for the verdict."

Without hesitation, I lean into Char and nibble her neck. "I'll save that energy for five minutes from now, baby." Char squeals. I stand up and grab her hand. "We're leaving." Then I pull her along-side me to the door, not bothering to say another word.

I need to be alone with my girl. She deserves some worshiping and I'm about to kneel at the altar.

***

"In the matter of Wainwright versus Davis, this court finds in favor of the defendant, Ms. Charlene Davis. Furthermore, Mr. Wainwright, by authority of the state of Nevada I order you to pay damages and legal fees to Ms. Davis in the sum of $300,000."

"Bullshit," Curt mutters.

"One more outburst, Mr. Wainwright and you'll be found in contempt of court. That comes with a 48 hour stay in our local jail cell."

The old waif of a man sends a challenging glare Curt's way. I'm certain the guy is praying Curt can't hold his tongue. The gleam in his eye when Curt opens his mouth to protest confirms it. Sadly, Curt gains some self-control and shuts it before anything actually comes out.

Damn. I would have paid hard money to watch that guy get thrown in the clink.

The judge drops the gavel with a bang before standing and shuffling out of the courtroom and back into his chambers. I like the old guy. I can picture smoking a cigar and playing poker with him. Cool dude. He probably has some kickass stories from the war, or the depression. Maybe both. He's old as dirt and still saucy. I want to be a cool old dude like him.

But knowing me I'll be sitting in some recliner watching reruns of Jeopardy and shouting at the contestants when they get the answers wrong.

I look over at Char, realizing I'm imagining her right by my side, telling me to calm down and save my energy for checkers in the game room after supper. I like the picture in my head. I want it. I want her.

Damn, I've got her. I just need to hold on to this girl. As we walk out of the courtroom leaving the drama behind us, I do just that. I walk side by side with her, Clinton leading the way and pushing the photogs and hack reporters out of the way as we go.

I've come a long way from the scrapping raw fish off of celebrity dinner plates and living on peanuts in a rundown bachelor pad. I shake my head as the flashbulbs shine on us, what probably looks like a smirk pulling up my lip. As smug as I'll appear in these pictures, I know I'll never care. Because I just counted my lucky stars and found out this former player came out a winner.

Am I a day early or 7 days late? Either way, I hope this chapter satisfied 😉 I've dropped more Citizen One hints with the guys' interactions. I'm not sure when I'll get to those stories or what order they'll be in, but I'm so excited to write some yummy rockstar romance!

I didn't have a song for this chapter when I wrote it, but this one has been hanging out on the playlist so it was time. Plus, the title seems to match Jacobs end-of-chapter sentiments so I figured why not?

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]