Overkill

07 | dvd menu

Musicians were a fickle bunch, and Mischa King was a certified master at wrangling them in when duty called.

Moxie considered herself wildly lucky for many reasons, but especially because she had arguably the best view in town to witness the impressive nature of her father in action. There were few professions she thought cooler to have been taken along with as a kid, watching in awe as her father helped craft musical history. It was a work of art, the way he moved. Everybody listened, everybody loved him, everybody respected him. And he clearly reciprocated that to each and every person whom he worked with, not one to treat others differently than how he wanted to be treated.

"And where's your brother?"

She let her head roll slowly to the side. A lumpy figure rested in the middle of the bed. One singular red sock-covered foot shot out far enough for the monsters under the bed to grab it. When she first walked in, Moxie had turned off the Shrek DVD menu that was playing on a loop from his laptop, but not before she took a picture and sent it to Stevie.

"Still asleep."

"What time is it there?"

"Late enough."

"Karaoke?"

She scoffed. "What else?"

Her father's voice briefly faded away, and a muffled confirmation was delivered to someone else who was in New York with him. Moxie missed New York almost as much as she missed her parents any time they were apart. At any given time, she missed dancing with them in the kitchen under moonlight, wearing matching pajamas on Christmas morning. She missed sharing a greasy slice of pizza and drinking hot chocolate while they people-watched. Moxie was forced to grow up at a much younger age than a lot of kids she knew, which meant holding onto memories instead of living them as frequently as she wished she could. At least she spent most of her time with her brother who kept her grounded amidst a fanciful world of mischief.

"Sorry about that."

"All good."

"Please remind your brother to drink something other than juice and soda while you're on the road. I'm concerned about his kidney." That was her mother's influence coming through. She was always worried about them and their health.

"I'm not his babysitter," she replied, knowing she picked up all his clothes off the floor last night. She never let Mick take advantage of her, but she also didn't mind helping him out every once in a while. That was what siblings did for each other. He did the same for her when she wasn't in the mood. "And Stevie and Jun were at the show last night so best of luck getting any of us to drink something other than apple juice and Capri Sun."

Her father laughed. "'Cause I'm supposed to believe that's all you drank last night?"

"What happens at karaoke night stays at karaoke night."

"I saw some clips online," he continued. Even if Mischa was too busy to make it to opening night, he always found a way to keep his eye on things. She imagined him slumped over in the studio, trying to hide how he was watching a shitty clip of them performing filmed on a fan's phone. "Your mom owes me fifty bucks."

Their parents made a bet over whether Mick would rip his pants during the first show. Moxie and Mischa always bet alongside each other. It was almost as surefire of a guarantee as betting against Maverick.

"And?" she prompted. "What else did you think?"

The downside to having a father who worked in the music industry was also the fact that she had that coveted up-close view of him in action. She saw how talented he was, how he had a perfect eye for talent and ambition, and all of the ways he was great at his job. That meant she spent far too long wondering about his opinion of her and whether she lived up to his expectations (or the expectations she created for herself under his name). Whether he thought she was as good as the artists he worked with, or if he thought she was good at all. She asked him for his opinion a lot and didn't believe them half the time because she always found a way to convince herself that he was just being nice. He was the only person in her life who could destroy what little ego she had without even trying, and it wasn't even his fault. She knew it was all in her head.