Believers Never Die Pt. 1

Even though I was completely aware of my mother's resentment of my existence, I still tried to impress her every chance I got.

I did it in typical kid fashions, like stealing her make up and trying to make myself look like her. I thought she was beautiful, and she was. Dominique Chastain was a very beautiful woman. She had bright blue eyes, the color of a clear midday sky. Her skin was a light tan, something most Germans were born with. She had hair the color of sand, a mix of lights browns and nearly white blondes. She had defined cheekbones and a stick-thin figure. I envied her. Everyone did. She was beautiful.

Her only flaw was that she had the ugliest attitude on the face of the Earth.

She treated the working class like dirt underneath her stilettos. She thought being a Vegas showgirl made her royalty. She was nothing special. Unless being a glorified stripper made you special. Everything was always about her. End of story. She was bitter and cold-hearted. She was a bitch, but at four years old, I thought she was the most amazing person in the universe, even if she didn't care about me.

There was one particular day in the summer. It was July, perhaps. My mother had come home. Margot was making me macaroni and cheese. My mother was in the sitting room, watching something on the television. It was particularly sunny out that day. I had been watching my mother for awhile now. I had seated myself at the piano just feet away from her. In the middle of the awkward silence, I blurted out, "Listen, Mama! I can play Mozart!" I started smashing my fingers against random keys, making many off-key noises in a random rhythm.

My mother groaned. "Stop that racket. That's not Mozart, Maxim," she said. I stopped playing and looked toward my mother with defeat. Well, I know that, I thought to myself. "It's garbage," she finished.

Sighing, I climbed down from the piano bench and shuffled my feet all the way to the kitchen. I sat on a stool at the island counter and watched Margot cook. I sighed. "What's wrong, little one?" she asked me without even looking over her shoulder. She didn't turn even an inch, but I could see her blonde eyebrows bent with concern.

I just shrugged. "Nothing."

"It's your mother, isn't it?"

"She doesn't love me," I explained, sounding completely disheartened.

Margot put down her spoon and turned to me, arms folded across her chest. "Now, that's completely untrue, and you know it," she told me, looking stern as she leaned across the counter, toward me. Almost instantly, her scowl twisted upward into a grin as she mess up my light blonde hair with her hand. "How could she not love somebody as sweet and handsome as you are?" I grinned and giggled. I felt my cheeks turning pink. Margot looked satisfied. "There's that smile we all love so much. Now, show me your best impression of Christoph. You're so good at it."

I grinned, and I put my hands on my hips and furrowed my eyebrows, doing my best to look serious and grown-up. I cleared my throat and tried to deepen my voice, though I sounded less like a grown man and more like a parrot with laryngitis. "Young sir," I began, trying to look pompous and uptight. "What do you mean you'd rather listen to Green Day than the great Beethoven? Why, Ludwig van is the greatest composer of all time! How dare you say that three-chord garbage is better than the Ludwig Van!"

"Well, it's true."

My eyes widened, and my face turned a deep red. Christoph simply laughed. "I don't sound like that, but nice try, little man."

"You definitely sound like that. He was spot on," Margot told him, trying to stifle her laughter.

"Well," Christoph remarked with a huff. "Young Maxim here likes me far better than you," he joked. "Right?" He looked down at me with a grin.

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged my shoulders. My gaze drifted toward the door as my mother's voice grew audible from behind it.

"Rebel, why don't you come here once in awhile? I want to work... Well, you're always working!"

Christoph grinned. "Why don't you sing her that song I taught you the other day. You do have quite a voice, young man."

I shrugged, but I nodded. He had taught me a song from what he called "his time." I smiled and began to sing. My mother's voice continued in the background.

"Blue jean baby, LA lady, seamstress for the band..."

"No, you are not hearing me. I am not just some Susie Homemaker!"

"Pretty eyes, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man..."

"I dance in Vegas for seven years."

"Ballerina..."

"No."

"You musta seen her..."

"Hell, no."

"Dancing in the sand..."

"I hate these stupid kids."

"Now she's in me, always with me. Tiny Dancer, in my head..."

"Fuck them, we hired a nanny for a reason."

"Hold me closer Tiny Dancer..."

My mother walked into the kitchen, almost right past me.

"Count the headlights on the high way. Lay me down in sheets of linen. You had a busy day today..."

She stopped dead. "Maxim?"

I turned to face her. I saw a glint in her eyes. She turned her mouth to the phone. "Rebel, you have to hear this." She gave a smile so sweet I could feel my own teeth rotting. I jumped off the stool and hurried to her, ignoring the look of dread on Christoph and Margot's faces. I put my mouth to the end of the outstretched phone and sang or my father just as my mother instructed me to. She soon took the phone and asked, "Rebel, do you still know Charlie Richards?" She put an arm round me and took me into the living room. "How are those ballet lessons going, sweetie?"

I didn't even know how to answer her. I was just so overjoyed that she was paying attention to me. Evan was wrong. She did love us. Well, she loved me. She told me I was going to be a star. She even arranged a fight to Los Angeles for us two days later. I was sure she loved Evander too. Otherwise, she wouldn't have taken him with us, right?

My life would change in a matter f hours.

It literally felt like a few minutes. One moment, my mother, Evan, Ingrid, and I were on the front porch waving goodbye to everyone. The next moment, we were at LAX, and my whole life was about to be flipped upside down.