Page 12 of Speechless

Apparently, what I had assumed were windows are actually sliding doors and the entire living room opens up to the patio. There’s an eight-person dining table next to a large shiny grill that’s built into a full bar and buffet area. There’s a small refrigerator attached as well. This place would be perfect for parties.

“We should have eaten out here.” I’m in awe of how beautiful this is. We’re right above the beach, waves crashing just below us. The warm breeze rolls by with a light kiss of salt. “This view is incredible.”

“Yeah, high tide is pretty sick too. The entire beach disappears so the water hits the rocks right there.” He points directly below us. The house is basically built into the rock formations. I’ve spent a lot of time by the ocean, mostly in Cape Cod and the islands, but the houses there are nothing like this. “We really should use this patio more—it’s such a waste. Come on, you wanna see the pool?”

Yes, yes I do.

We turn left to curve around the house, and I see a large rectangular pool with a smaller rectangular hot tub right at the back where a pink flamingo float bobs around. There’s also a huge raft shaped like a pirate ship, and I imagine the rowdy soirees it’s typically used for.

Looking back at the house I try to see what room we’re in front of, but all the blinds are closed.

“That’s Henry’s room. I know it’s his house and all, but it pisses me off that the only way to get into the outdoor shower is from his bathroom.” He points to the teakwood structure that is in fact connected to a hallway from the inside. Henry must have a pretty nice bathroom . . .

“You sound a little bitter Jayce. What’s wrong? Your room’s not nice enough?” I flash him a teasing smile.

“Yeah, my room’s fine. I really can’t complain. Please don’t tell him I said anything.”

“How would I tell him anything? I haven’t even seen him.”

“That’s Hermit Henry, always working. Fuck, don’t tell him I said that either. He gets so pissed when we call him that. Just erase it from your brain, okay?”

Huh, Hermit Henry? I wonder why. “You can trust me; my lips are sealed.”

Looking around, my only thought is,this place is extravagant. I don’t know a better word to describe it. I already knew Henry was successful, but I had no idea musicians like him lived like this.

“Can I ask you something about the house?”

“Sure, whatever you want.” Jayce looks intrigued and crosses his arms in front of him, ready for my interrogation.

“I hope this doesn’t come across the wrong way. I’m just wondering, I mean, how do you guys…okay, I guess maybe I didn’t realize musicians like you made this much money?” I should really shut up now, but I’m so damn curious I just can’t stop.“I’m sorry. I know this is rude, I’m just . . . curious? This house seems crazy expensive. I’ve watched Million Dollar Listing LA, and I know the show’s fake, but I’m assuming the prices are realistic . . .” Shit, I’m rambling again and Jayce is grinning at me wickedly.

“You don’t understand how we can afford this.” He looks at me pointedly and I give him a slight nod as I bare my teeth in embarrassment. “What are you trying to say, Luce? You think we’re criminals or something?” He stares me down as a shake my head, because I obviously don’t think that. But then his voice drops lower. “Are you a cop? FBI? Tell me now and I’ll make sure this doesn’t end badly.”

What the … I’m just staring back at him, completely frozen. What have I gotten myself into? He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes not-so-gently. I stop breathing. His eyes bore into mine like he’s sure he’ll find all my secrets hidden behind them.

“Jayce, I—”

A laugh bursts through his mouth as he releases me from his grip. His entire body is shaking with glee.

“Jayce!” I punch him lightly in the shoulder. “Not cool.”

“Your face is white as a sheet.” He’s pointing at me as he continues laughing. Luckily no one else is out here to witness my embarrassment. “Whew.” He blows out the lingering laughter, hands braced on his knees until he’s finally done. “Sorry Luce, you kinda set me up for that one though. Also, you’re right. I could never afford this place. None of us could, just Henry. He bought it and we all live here as part of our comp.”

“Oh, so is he . . .”

“Super rich?” I grimace, realizing that was exactly what I was thinking but didn’t want to say aloud. “Yeah, I mean he works so much. Some of the jobs pay a ton, like a shit ton. Most of them don’t, but they add up. We just work with him on movie scores. He does everything else himself.”

“What does he do besides movie scores?” I didn’t realize there was more.

“Fuckingeverything. When we were still in school, he played piano in the pit for a couple different Broadway shows, then he started writing for them. Got real connected with theater people that I think he still writes for sometimes. Graham is such a hustler, he used to go out and get Henry jobs left and right. When he was still a nobody, when all we worked on were indie films that paid absolute crap. He’s written some TV themes. I think he even did a jingle for a commercial a while back. And then there’s all the pop stuff.”

Pop stuff? It takes effort not to ask for more information. There’s so much to unpack, especially about Henry. It’s funny how I used to think about him before we met, picturing him with his Beethoven intensity, wild hair and much older face. I’m still trying to fuse these two Henrys together in my mind and it’s no easy feat. Luckily, Jayce interrupts my inner hamster wheel before I ask any more inappropriate questions.

“Wanna go inside and see the rest?”

Jayce takes me up one of the two curved staircases in the foyer and shows me all the guys’ bedrooms. He’s right, he shouldn’t complain. They each basically have their own suite. I notice there’s not much decor upstairs, but what they do have is all music related. There are a few vintage guitars hanging on the walls and a decent amount of frosted glass pieces that look like they’re made from distorted musical photography. Many are of notes or bars, some of instruments and one that’s just a quote from Stevie Wonder that I absolutely adore:Music is a world within itself, with a language we all understand.

Once we’re back in the foyer I notice another staircase, but this one leads down. “What about the basement?”

---