[right][sub][color=lightgray]TIMESTAMP: Sunday, July 25th
FT: [color=E4DF9B]Antoine[/color] & [color=faba49]Evangeline[/color] Beauregard
[color=567157]Sylvester James[/color][/color][/sub][/right]
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[color=lightgray][indent][indent]Sitting in her father’s chair, Evangeline Beauregard, the second youngest of Mr. Beau and Colleen’s children, played notes on her travel keyboard of one of her songs she was creating for Kimber Bedlam’s next theater musical, Afternoon Daydream. A story that focuses on a cafe that attracts dreamers. The main characters, all young adults coming from different walks, navigate through love, friendship and the pressure of life in hopes to find their center and purpose. It showcases the everyday struggle of small town people, who need to survive but who want more than this provincial life. Those who are mad and can’t help but dream. 

This would be her big break because up until this job, she was making songs for small troupes and starving musicians hoping they’d get lucky at one of their gigs. Freelance mostly. It wasn’t until two people, known by everyone on Broadway as the newest It Couple, approached her in Pittsburgh of all places, while she was busking for some extra cash. Eva had pride and didn’t like calling her parents for help unless she desperately needed it. She recognized them immediately as the young and gifted playwright and filmmaker, Kimber Benson (now Bedlam) and the prolific American actor and singer, rising to prominence for his work and his portrayal of Aaron Burr in Hamilton, Maxwell Bedlam. 

Entertainment business was all about luck and by fate, she was given a little chance encounter that might be what separates her from her siblings, giving her parents maybe something to hang up on the wall since she wasn’t one with academic achievements nor did she participate in many competitions. All she ever had was her pen, paper and piano.  Simply by singing a song she wrote with her father, she was able to win the heart of a couple who wasn’t even that older than her but who had their breakthrough in highschool. 

Eva kept up with trends, ratings and those leading the industry. A month ago, the stars aligned and who knows? Maybe she would be able to go to La La Land as the most commercially successful composer and lyricist of all time, like Gaston Leroux, or maybe she would be able to change the world of musical theater like Leonard Bernstein. If only she could be like the greats, just like the Bedlams were swiftly becoming. What also benefited her was when she found out the premise of Kim’s working play, it reminded her a lot of her father and couldn’t help but talk about her own experiences helping him run a cafe, how he was a former English professor and prior to that, he was an officer. How much of a role model her dad was in her hometown and to her.

To say she piqued Kim’s interest was an understatement and now excitedly Eva wondered if the celebrity couple would visit Edenridge for inspiration. Until then though, she needed to keep making songs and pray she was exactly what they want and need. This was her someone-in-the-crowd and she couldn’t fuck it up. Staring at her small notebook while playing on her travel keyboard (it was on a stand), Eva listened to the nostalgic melody which focused on two childhood friends getting pulled away from each other because of the forces of their environment. Tapping her pencil on her paper, she stopped pressing the piano keys and whispered some words, [color=faba49]“...I finally opened up. For you I’d do anything. But here I sing, and you aren’t listening to me. Can’t you recall when this all began? It was you and me. It was only me and you…”[/color] 

She scribbled a couple more lines about the boy being pushed to the edge with his vice and the girl feeling hopeless, not knowing what to do. All the boy did was drown her out with his music, the song of his heart, and failed to see what was in front of him. The song was a desperate cry from a girl madly in love, wanting to be seen, and a wake up call for the boy, who desperately needed to come to his senses. If he just grabbed her hand, he’d be okay. They’d be okay. Whatever they did, be it big or small, they could do it together. They would always have each other and yet the song was bittersweet, because it was the girl coming to terms that he would never look her way. Not in the way she wished he would. This was her afternoon daydream but it ends with them walking past one another, in a way that only strangers would.

Antoine was amazed at all the things his children had accomplished in their young lives, so much more than even he could’ve predicted. Each had grown into their own person beyond the shadow of the cafe owner and his beloved wife, Colleen. Desmond was serving their country, Delphine was serving her community as a lawyer, Genevieve and Eva were serving their creative sides and Zara was serving the public as a hairdresser. Each of his children, for all their differences, were giving themselves to a cause that they believed in and which was greater than themselves. Selfless was only one word to describe the Beauregard brood.

Beau was startled at the end of another busy shift at Rochambeau when he returned home to find a light on inside. He knew he had turned them all off when he had left earlier that morning and Colleen was away for the weekend, visiting Genevieve in New York City and watching her slay Jennifer Hudson in a production of Dreamgirls. He was taken aback by something fierce when he entered the home, his service pistol drawn and he found his second youngest baby playing her piano and writing a beautiful melody. He needed to change where he hid that spare key.

Coming up behind his daughter as she sat in his chair, Antoine rested his hands on her shoulders before kissing the top of her head. He had learned to navigate the wild curly hair that Evangeline had inherited from her mother. [color=E4DF9B]“Ça a l'air magnifique ma petite fille.”[/color] The former police officer missed speaking French in the Quarter. When he and Collie moved to Edenridge with their children, he discovered fairly quickly that he was definitely not in New Orleans any more. His beloved had warned him of the ghost stories and the monsters that lurked beneath her hometown but Beau had never been the superstitious sort despite growing and maturing in a world enveloped in the fog of Hoodoo, Voodoo and Black Magic. He believed in the evil of man’s heart but also the good and that was the part he had dedicated his life to. [color=E4DF9B]“Are you happy with it, mon Cherie?”[/color]

[color=faba49]“Hi, daddy,”[/color] Eva closed her notebook, leaving her pencil inside it, before placing it on the keyboard. [color=faba49]“Um, yes and no. I know what I got is good but I want it to be better. I’ve been working on this song specifically far longer than the other ones for my client. It’s just,”[/color] she briefly paused as she stared at the keys of her travel instrument, contemplating what she was missing and why her song just didn’t feel there yet. She looked up at her father and sighed, [color=faba49]“You and mom have this profound love story and I’ve had two boyfriends that all ended with a mutual break up. One because he and I were far too committed to our own pursuits and it just never felt like we were dating in the first place and the other because he thought he was too grounded for me and didn’t want to hold me back.”[/color] There was no bitterness in Eva’s voice when she talked about her exes and if anything, she was glad they maturely let things go before it became toxic and they did start hating each other. She wasn’t so attached to them that she needed to keep the romantic flame alive. At least with one of them, she would still consider him her friend but she wondered if she simply was missing something and just didn’t understand what the concept was all together. How could she write about love if she never experienced it, truly? Not young, first love but the kind of love that gets immortalized in classic literature. A soulmate kind of love. A love that lives forever and throughout history. A love so strong, it’s painful. 

[color=faba49]“I get it, I’m very whimsical and I’m always traveling and that’s hard to commit to. But,”[/color] she explained, her creative madness spinning in her head as she tried to make sense of her thoughts, threading all the pieces together. The song was clearly there but she was trying to find the heart of it. Gently pushing her keyboard stand to the side, she stood up to offer her father his seat as she rambled on, [color=faba49]“This song is supposed to be about people you know are supposed to be… but they have so many obstacles that force them apart, that they never do cross the line and all they’re left with is what if. I guess if I knew the feeling of what it meant to love someone like you love mom, maybe I wouldn’t constantly rip my music sheet and start over. I can’t be stereotypical either and have just another love song. No. This song is meant to be sad because these lovers will never know even though it’s so clear they’re meant to be together. Am I making sense?”[/color] 

[color=E4DF9B]“You’ve never made sense in the twenty three years since I first held you in my arms in that hospital room and wept.”[/color] Beau moved around the chair to meet his child’s gaze and offered out his hand for her to take. [color=E4DF9B]“VAL: Play the Cafe Playlist.”[/color] The small orb on the side table illuminated itself at the sound of Antoine’s dulcet New Orleans drawl and burst into life with the music of Beau’s favorite artist, the legendary Sam Cooke. 

As “Bring it on Home” played around them, the elderly man pulled his child from her seat where he entwined his fingers with hers whilst wrapping his other arm around her waist to dance along to the music. Music had always carried such power in the Beauregard household. When Antoine was a boy, he and his parents would often take part in Mardi Gras, his father playing trumpet and his mother the trombone. Even after they had passed, he would always go with their instruments in hand to make sure they never missed a show. When Beau was an active police officer, it would be the music that helped center him after a particular horrific evening on the beat.

There was one instance in particular that he remembered. He had yet to make detective and was still nothing but a beat cop when he became the first responder to a scene. Three little girls, mutilated by the train tracks. After handing over to the “real police” Beau drove to Tulane University and climbed into bed next to Colleen, they had only been dating a few months and she held him close whilst he wept.  He awoke the next morning to find her dancing so gracefully in the kitchen to Nina Simone’s Sinnerman whilst cooking breakfast and he knew then that he wanted to marry that woman. 

He proposed a week later. 

Desmond and Delphine never had the ear for music that Beau would’ve liked, they had too much of Collie in them. Evangeline and Genevieve though? Those girls would sit for hours listening to Antoine’s old vinyls. They would sing and they would dance and they would brighten the world with the stars in their eyes. It was no wonder both now shone so bright. [color=E4DF9B]“Love is out there for us all, baby girl. Some find it, others don’t. That’s a sad cross we all bear.”[/color]  He looked deep into his daughter's eyes and offered a supportive smile. [color=E4DF9B]“It’s something we long and yearn for. It’s what makes the word turn. You don’t need to plan roots to find it. For you, it’ll happen when you least suspect, I mean who couldn’t love that face? Or your mama’s hair?”[/color]

After blowing some of her curls up when her dad complimented her hair, Evangeline softly put her toes dressed in yellow bumblebee socks on top of his feet. Something they’ve always done, ever since she was young. She’d put her little toesies on his feet, usually he was dressed in business casual shoes like old oxford sneakers, and he’d lead them in a playful dance. Holding onto him, she grumbled, [color=faba49]“That’s not the point, daddy. The point is, I need this song to be perfect but I’m doubting myself because maybe I’m out of my element.”[/color] Even if she acted like his advice was not needed, her expression betrayed her as her mind lingered on his words. 

Getting boys to like her was easy, but being with a boy that she could see a future with? That wasn’t. Her type, at least what she thought it was, were intellectual boys with clear passions. Dean loved his ghost stories and being part of the journalism club, he also had an eccentric group of friends she enjoyed being around from time to time. Her other ex, Terrence, she met in Atlanta. An aspiring filmmaker who didn’t see beyond his vision. She already knew getting involved with him wouldn’t be easy, seeing how she traveled a lot and he was innately selfish but she tried it and it led to her breaking ties because he really didn’t care about her mind and her aspirations. It was his way or the highway and that kind of mindset, be it friendship or lover, would never work for a child of Colleen and Antoine. They all were their own individual, fierce ones at that, and each had a mind of their own. They couldn’t be kept on a leash, and that was a simple fact. 

Her healthiest relationship was with Dean who she didn’t really date until after he turned eighteen and even then they were just friendly, hardly intimate, and it felt like she was helping him get over his trauma from the shooting than them actually having sparks and a heated honeymoon phase. Love was weird. She thought logically, if she dated a friend or a guy passionate about something, just like her, she would feel something but in the end, all she felt was loneliness and realizing what they had was not love. Not really. Terrance liked the validation she gave and Dean was… simple. Sweet. She craved something interesting, challenging but she also needed someone who understood that she wasn’t always all there. Sometimes she just got lost in the clouds. At the end of the day, it was her dad who brought her back to Earth and reminded her of what really matters. She loved her dad, ridiculously so and if he would be her forever love, that was okay in her book. She didn’t need a husband when she had the best dad in the world.

[color=E4DF9B]“Mon petit, you wouldn’t have been asked to write the song if people didn’t believe in you.”[/color] Beau was instantly transported back years as Evangeline placed herself atop his feet. There was nothing more precious to him than a dance with his girls or a quiet Sunday watching the game with his son. Like his middle child, Antoine had always carried self doubt in his heart. Was he good enough to catch a criminal? Was he good enough to teach? Could he make a decent cup of coffee? Was he the right person to try and make a difference in the lives of those that he felt needed it? 

What gave him the right?

[color=E4DF9B]“You’re not out of your element, sweetness. You’re the periodic table.”[/color] Beau was smiling from ear to ear as he danced with his baby girl. Before he could say another word, there was a knock on the front door. Stopping the movement, Antoine tapped a finger on Eva’s nose with a little smile. [color=E4DF9B]“Hold that thought, button. I’ll be back.”[/color] He propped her back down onto the floor before he made his way to the other side of the sitting room to the front door, opening it up to be greeted by a familiar face.

[color=E4DF9B]“Sylvester? To what do I own this fine pleasure? I promise my beignets are up to code.”[/color]

[color=567157]“Are you free?”[/color] Sly’s exasperatedly asked, his expression distraught as the weight of the world looking like it was just about to push the officer over the edge. Rocky was known for his strength. For being a boulder throughout adversity, throughout the harsh climate change, and throughout all his losses that try time and time again to force him into the dirt he came from. The thing about strong people is, they didn’t start off strong. They know what it means to be weak and they fight. They have a reason to keep going even if they had the things they love ripped away from them and they’ve had blows straight to the heart trying to destroy them. Even strong people need support. Sylvester “Rocky” James was no exception. [color=567157]“I need to clear my head but if this isn’t a good time, I—”[/color] 

[color=faba49]“OH SNAP! I forgot I had something to do,”[/color] Eva rushed around her dad’s house to gather her things, having received a text from her brother. Internally, she felt impending dread that Desi would be mad at her for forgetting to pick him up. It was going to be a surprise for their dad. All his children back, like the good old days. Hurriedly and with a little struggle she put her shoes on over her bumblebee socks. Eva’s style was always fun and eccentric. Today she wore a long teal floral maxi skirt, loose white tank, light blue washed out jean jacket, fun socks and combat boots. With her leather tote hanging over her shoulder, she scurried beside her dad to give him a kiss on his cheek. [color=faba49]“Love you daddy,”[/color] Evangeline beamed brightly before quickly waving at Officer James, [color=faba49]“Hello and goodbye Mr. James. It’s good to see you. And he’s free! Make yourself at home.”[/color] As much as she wanted to make conversation, she was in a rush and luckily for her, Sly was good at getting the hint. 

The officer stepped to the side so she could rush past him and gave a weary smile, unable to bury his depressive state, especially now that he was near one of the few people he trusted with all his heart. [color=567157]“Good to see you too, Eva. Now, you better not speed. Don’t need you getting in an accident. No place is worth rushing to if it risks your life. Remember that.”[/color]

[color=faba49]“Yes. Absolutely. Got it. No speeding. Thanks!”[/color] Prancing down the front porch stairs and getting to her silver 2018 Subaru Outback, her green 2000 Subaru Volkswagen met the end of its life not too long ago, Eva rummaged through her bag. There was an immediate look of bewilderment. She couldn’t find her keys and she could’ve sworn she put it in there. She checked again.

[color=E4DF9B]“Two seconds, son. And I’m all yours.”[/color] Beau motioned for Sly to take a seat on one of the porch chairs that he had overlooking the street before heading back into the house for a moment. He headed to the kitchen and looked upon a hand carved wall hanger, which had a photo of every Beauregard and beneath each image, a key hook. As sure as the worth of gold, beneath Eva’s beautiful smile sat her car keys. Antoine quickly grabbed them as well as two sodas from the fridge before hurrying back to the porch. He placed the drinks in front of the police officer before tossing the keys to his daughter. [color=E4DF9B]“Remember me as a time of day, darling. That way you never forget!”[/color] He called out.

After watching Evangeline drive away, nearly allowing a cab to sideswipe her, Beau took his seat next to Sly and his jovial smile harshened slightly. Something was seriously wrong with his brother in blue. [color=E4DF9B]“What’s the matter boy?”[/color]

Where should he even start? Holding the pop given to him and pulling the tab off with his pointer finger, in one single hand motion, Sly looked out at the friendly neighborhood that Beau resided in. Eastbrook was quaint, full of history and families of all sizes. One of the more private streets, Rosebury Loop, where it reaches a deadend, at times felt like its own little world. Peaceful even with the Ossos living across the street. It housed one of the founding families, the O’Briens, who left Scott Street and immersed themselves into the community by not living in the heavens, or Scott Street as this town calls it, like most of the royalty do. 

Sly could see the allure of this street. It felt like it was straight out of an old-world storybook. Charming with mossy trees that hang down the sidewalks and homes, 18th and 19th century wood frame houses, colorful doors and a feel where you want to take a slow walk to be part of this timeless picture.  It made sense why the Beauregards moved here. This street was made for someone like Beau. In truth, Sly had considered for a while now, ever since Max passed away, of finally renovating his old friend’s house and moving there. Not too far from here, on Hanging Hill. Scary story aside, it was in far better condition than his Uncle Woody’s house, a safer neighborhood and just a different experience.  An opportunity for growth. Maybe he was just getting tired of staying in the same place while everyone else moved. Everyone else tried to leave their past behind. He was living it each and every day, especially when another kid died and he failed to save them. 

His house was full of memories, both good and bad. A reminder of how far he’s come and how nothing about it has changed. People can come and go, and most recently his house has seen more activity with Mordechai’s family. The house itself - all the same. His girls were only babies when his brothers, his blood brothers, used to visit, trying to get some money off him. They used to play it off as if they were healing and trying to do better. What they really were doing was guilt tripping him on moving back to the compound, where he belongs. He had nieces and nephews that would love to meet their Uncle Sly. 

Hell, even his uncle Woody was trying to see if they were genuine or not. Obviously bridges were burnt and they didn’t have their happy ending. It didn’t help Vicky wanted nothing to do with them after all they’ve put Sly through. When he was with her, he felt like he had no spine. All he wanted was to make her happy and it seemed a relationship with his brothers was only going to destroy his own family in the end. So Sly decided to put his efforts into everything else: his children, the wife, this town and burdensome secrets. 

Life didn’t always feel worth it. Sly wasn’t a quitter though. No matter how much time weathered him down, he fought and he’d keep fighting until he absolutely couldn’t anymore. He knew clinging to those that gave him purpose, keeping those that center him, like Mr. Beau, close, and grasping onto the little things that make him smile and never letting go… [b]that’s[/b] what really counts. And yet, he could feel the constant pain that stems from years of hardship. 

He didn’t want to fail his family and yet, one of his little girls was murdered and the other one was going through hell, hanging by a thread as she relived the moment of seeing the love of her life die by the hands of her father. He knew he was failing kids like him. He sees Mordechai every day now and prays. He doesn’t even believe in God but he sure enough prays. Prays he could make it up to him, a kld that’s like a son to him, for not being the rock he needed when Danny died. If Mordechai couldn’t breathe, Sly would’ve done what was in his power to help him find oxygen. Rocky had already failed his friends. No longer talking with any of his serpent brothers like he used to when he was young. The failure kept growing, the mistakes even larger and impossible to repair and Sly was still here. Why the fuck was he still here? [color=567157]“I don’t know what I’m doing, Beau. I feel like… I don’t know. I’m not good at this, I’ve never been good at this. I just needed you.”[/color]

[color=E4DF9B]“Well I’m here my brother.”[/color] Beau reached out with his giant hand and placed it atop Sly’s burly shoulder, brushing off the weight of the world so that his fellow officer only felt his presence instead. [color=E4DF9B]“And I always will be.”[/color] Leaning back in his chair, Antoine took a sip from his soda and glanced out at the town he called home. [color=E4DF9B]“You know when I first moved here with Collie and the kids, she said to me that Eden wasn’t a place for good men yet in all the time I’ve called this place home, I’ve met a lot of good men. Not all of them start out that way though but they get there.”[/color] He offered Sylvester a knowing glance. The teacher was aware of his current company's previous past wearing the serpent insignia but he didn’t hold that against him. Hell, Beau would consider Reynaldo Senior one of his closest friends. [color=E4DF9B]“I was having a conversation with a student recently and he was having worries about not being good enough about walking that other path. And I told him, all you have to do is try. Are you still trying, Officer?”[/color]  

[color=567157]“Of course I’m trying,”[/color] Sly took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his own lounge chair. [color=567157]“I never stop trying,”[/color] he ranted. Exasperated and exhausted. Two words that described the officer nearing his wits end. Sighing to himself and resting his can on his leg, Sly glanced over to his friend and admitted, [color=567157]“And there, I believe lies the problem, right?”[/color] He shook his head clearly at war with himself and sipped again from his drink. [color=567157]“You think after all these years, I’d be so tough that I wouldn’t get hurt. I lie to myself thinking I’m unbreakable but days like these come around and remind me that what I do doesn’t really do much does it? I’m just here and I’ll always be here. And I’m small in the grand scheme of things. Rocky, the legend. Rocky, the badass. Rocky, the failure more like it.” [/color]

Beau had been where Sly had been. He had traveled down and parked on that road so many times that he had lost count. [color=E4DF9B]“There comes a time, multiple times actually, where a man will be tested and he will fall. We will all fall. The true measure of a man isn’t some grand mark he leaves on the world. It isn’t some legacy or legend. The true mark of a man is the love he leaves behind, the love that lives in the hearts of the people that he loved so fiercely. Your baby girl, she has had a life fraught with danger and pain yet when she is at my cafe and she is talking about you? The love in that girl's big green eyes is brighter than the sun. That’s your legacy. Maxine is your mark. We’re all small, Rocky, just specs of stardust in the grand scheme as you put it. But what a scheme.”[/color]

Being in Beau’s presence did relax him as he listened to the sage words of a man that walked a hard road, similar yet different. Life was full of hardships and they were all our own. Laying his head back, Sly inhaled and exhaled, taking in this moment and accepting it for what it was. A talk he needed. However long or small, when he was with Beau he didn’t feel as lost. This man didn’t even realize how much of a compass he was for many people of Edenridge. He meant too much to many people. Without him, this town would go into chaos. 

How lucky Sly felt knowing that he met such a wonderful human being. One of a kind. The best of them. Because Sly knew Beau, he would be changed for good and that was more than enough reason to keep trying. [color=567157]“How do you do it, old man?”[/color] Sly opened his eyes, smirking. At least in this space, in this time, all of Sly’s worries had lessened and it could all be because he needed a gentle reminder of his measure. Doesn’t matter what side of the train tracks you live on. The violence? That doesn’t prove a thing. Good people could still burn someone and bad people could save someone from a burning building. All that was part of a bigger picture. A story. What matters is that everyone was looking at the same night sky, the same sunset and sunrise, the same sun and the same moon. And everyone wanted one thing. To love and be loved. Even if he was small in the grand scheme of things, he had someone who made him feel like he could carry the universe. He had a daughter who looked up to him and the last thing he needed to do was let her down. 

Beau joined Sylvester in staring at the stars. All around the world, there were an uncountable amount of people doing the same thing as they were: living, It was times like this, wistful times with good friends which forced an old man to reminisce about bygone days. Beau had led a good life if not a hard one but he knew that there were six people that made it all worthwhile and then another few million on top of that.  Some might change the world, some might leave it altogether. Every single one is different, everyone the same. In the end, they were all part of the same book. He looked at Sly one more time and took another sip from his drink.

[color=E4DF9B]“One page at a time…”[/color][/indent][/indent][/color]