Year 2014
Los Angeles, California
It was gloomy and quiet when Beckett arrived at their house with his brows furrowed. His parents, whom he expected to welcome him, were not there, despite informing them earlier that he would be coming home from Italy for their semester break.
"Ma? Pa?" Beckett called out in a slightly louder voice, but his voice only echoed throughout the place. "Rosie? Nicholas?" he called out to the workers, but no one answered him.
He grew more puzzled, but a smile crossed his face as he thought that maybe they wanted to surprise him.
"If you want to surprise me, I'm here. You can come out now," Beckett said, laughing lightly. He walked towards the stairs to go to his parent's room. "Ma—"
But he immediately stopped when he saw the drops of blood on the floor. When he looked at the stairs, he cursed as he saw traces of blood there as well, as if someone had dragged a body upstairs.
His entire body froze, and his heart started beating faster. He quickly ran up the stairs, and fearlessly opened the door to his parents' room.
He no longer cared if there was a dangerous person in that room or if they would kill him when they saw him.
His intuition told him that something bad happened... and he hated how his intuitions were mostly accurate.
"Ma!" Beckett called out again, and his jaw almost dropped at what he saw.
His parents were lying on the floor. Even from a distance, he could clearly see the stab wounds on their bodies, and the blood flowing towards him.
He didn't need to check whether they were dead or not—they were.
They weren't even breathing when he arrived. With the number of stab wounds his parents had, he was certain that whoever did this to them harbored a great deal of anger.
Beckett, as slowly as he could, walked forward until he reached his parents. He was sweating cold and trembling all over.
But he didn't let those emotions stop him. He still wanted to see his parents and hug them for the last time... despite them being lifeless.
But as he got closer to his parents, tears began to stream down his face. Beckett wasn't accustomed to violence. It was his first time seeing blood and such a horrific murder, but he never uttered a single word.
He never shouted or stumbled again.
Beckett knelt beside his mother, not even minding the blood sticking to his skin. He gently brushed his hand over her lifeless eyes, closing them, as tears fell onto his hands.
"Whoever did this to you two, I'll make sure to find them," Beckett declared.
But in the midst of the silence, he heard a faint noise outside their house. It sounded like a whistle, so he quickly stood up and looked out the window.
There, he saw a shirtless man walking in their garden as if nothing had happened. He had a knife in his right hand, playing with it in his other hand as he walked.
Beckett could only clench his fists in response as his voice almost left his throat. He was catching his breath when the man suddenly stopped walking and looked in his direction.
"More... More..." Beckett muttered, waiting for the right moment to memorize the face of his parents' murderer and drag him into the depths of hell.
He was about to see him in just a moment. Just a little longer...
"Fuck!" he cursed as he hit his head against the window.
He opened his eyes and met the gaze of his manager, Fiona, who was looking at him with a furrowed brow. He avoided her gaze before looking out the window again.
"Damn it," he added before massaging his temples.
He didn't realize that he had dozed off in the van while they were on their way somewhere. He had just come back from France for a photoshoot, and now he had another scheduled event upon his return. That's why he hadn't fully recovered from the trip yet.
"Are you alright?" Fiona asked. There was concern in her tone. "Another bad dream?"
Beckett simply nodded and didn't say anything. His head was still hurting slightly. It wasn't the first time he had dreamt of that incident.
After that event, he never had a good sleep. He had been sleep-deprived for almost seven years. Beckett felt like he was just a dead man walking. If it weren't for his desire to catch his parents' killer, he probably would have followed them as well.
"This is why I don't like sleeping. Fuck," Beckett muttered and snapped his neck.
"I told you to consult a doctor. You're wealthy anyway, and if you tell the higher-ups, they might even cover the expenses for you," Fiona said, thinking that Beckett was just reluctant to see a doctor because of the costs.
That annoyed Beckett, but he let it slide.
"No need. I can handle this alone," Beckett answered, and the headache subsided after a few seconds. "My schedule is also full. Aren't I packed with engagements?"
Although hesitant, Fiona nodded. She knew Beckett was right. He was one of the highest-earning talents at Syneverse Entertainment, and his projects were lined up left and right.
After a while, the car stopped. Beckett was puzzled to see that they were in front of the Grand Arena and that there were many reporters outside.