Two and a Half Men: Waking up as Charlie Harper

[Four Months Later]

The last four months had been a blur, the kind of blur Charlie never thought he would be living through. One moment he was nervously emailing his EP to Firelight Records and the next, he was sitting in a tuxedo under the blinding lights of the Grammy Awards, clutching a golden gramophone in his hand while an auditorium full of people stood and applauded.

His songs had not only been nominated, they had swept. 'Everybody's Favorite Stranger' won Grammy for Song of the Year and Grammy for Best Solo Performance. 'Ocean knows her name' won the Grammy for Best Music Video. He had gone up to the stage three times, each time sure the teleprompter had made some kind of mistake, each time fumbling through a speech that bounced between sincere and awkward. Lisa teased him afterward that he had looked like a man trying to accept an award for someone else.

The Grammys had been just the start.

A few weeks later, he found himself standing in front of a wall of cameras at the Billboard Music Awards. He left that night with four trophies: Top Hot 100 Song, Top Streaming Song, Top Selling Song, and Top Radio Song. The industry press wrote about him like he had fallen from the sky fully formed, a mysterious veteran musician who had suddenly mastered pop, soul, and storytelling in one go.

By the time the MTV Video Music Awards rolled around, Charlie had gotten used to tux fittings, camera flashes, and answering endless variations of "How does it feel to be the man of the moment?" He smiled through it, but even he could not hide his surprise when his name was called for Video of the Year. The video for "Everybody's Favorite Stranger" had been a mix of fun, truth, and humor, and apparently that combination had worked better than anyone had predicted.

With every award, the headlines grew bigger, and so did the pressure.

Within four months, Charlie Harper had become one of the top artists in the music industry. He had millions of fans who celebrated every new post, lyric snippet, and live appearance. He also had a growing list of critics who called him overhyped, too lucky for his own good, or a sellout for working within the mainstream system. Charlie read some of the hate early on, then decided he had better uses for his time. The competition at the top was ruthless, but he was not interested in playing their games. Instead, he threw himself into creating a full album, determined to prove that his sudden rise was not a fluke.

He worked relentlessly. The Malibu beach house became a half-luxury retreat and half-studio bunker. Lisa often kept him grounded, making sure he slept, ate, and didn't spend three straight days staring at a mixing board. Laura was more of a creative spark, sometimes barging into the studio with a wild idea for a lyric or a visual concept. Surprisingly, they worked well together, and their strange poly-style arrangement had settled into something comfortable. Charlie made sure to give his time to his girls too and they had sex more often, all over the house.

Then came Kate Beckinsale. Charlie simply met her at her home and asked her to collaborate with him on a special song. Kate had signed on without hesitation. The shoot for "Reflection" became a week-long creative sprint in Los Angeles, with Kate playing the lead role and Lisa giving the voice for the song.

Working with Kate had been both a challenge and a thrill. She was sharp, quick with suggestions, and unafraid to push him if a scene felt off. Charlie stayed with the director as they refined the scenes and reshoot certain parts according to Charlie's vision. Laura, on the other hand, spent more time teasing him about working with someone "way out of his league."

When the video wrapped, the three women ended up sharing a table with him at the wrap party, the conversation drifting between music, film, and dating.

By the time spring arrived, the album was finished. The critics had been waiting for it with pens, ready to declare his rise a fluke. Well, Charlie let the songs speak for themselves. When his album dropped, it climbed to the top 3 within a single week. Then by the third, his songs were sitting at the top spot.

Oh, by the way, he made a lot of money thanks to the royalties and his stocks.

Now, in the present moment, Charlie sat on the sundeck of his Malibu beach house. His laptop sat open on the table next to a half-empty mug of coffee. He had been reading the reviews all morning, alternating between raised eyebrows and smirks.

One critic called the album "an unexpected triumph of authenticity in a polished market," praising the blend of raw storytelling and crisp production. Another called it "self-indulgent but occasionally brilliant." There were harsher ones too. A British magazine dismissed it as "midlife crisis pop dressed in poetic language." Charlie read that one twice, chuckled, and closed the tab.

Lisa came out onto the deck with a glass of iced tea, setting it down beside him. "Good news or bad news?" she asked, glancing at the screen.

"Depends on your definition," Charlie replied. "Apparently I'm both a genius and a fraud, depending on who you ask."

"Well, fame comes with both good and bad sides," she said, leaning on the railing and looking out at the ocean. "At least they're talking about you."

"Me?" He chuckled. "Did you check the comments in your social media posts? Like, they love you two and from what I can see, some are pissed off jealous because you girls are with me and openly trolling me."

Lisa chuckled, "Yeah, I read those comments. Are you proud of yourself now?"

Charlie thought for a moment before nodding with a large smile, "Yeah, I am pretty proud of myself. Lucky me."

Laura joined them a moment later, carrying a plate of sliced fruit. "Talking about him? Half the internet is obsessed with him. The other half wants him to disappear." She sat down and offered him the plate. "You're officially famous, Harper. This is the part where you either sell out or start throwing TVs out of hotel windows."

"I'm more of a 'finish my coffee and take a nap' kind of guy," Charlie said, taking a piece of pineapple.

...

[Noon]

The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the ocean outside. Charlie had drifted into a comfortable nap on the balcony couch.

He stirred when he heard the sliding door open. Berta stepped out, carrying a beer bottle in one hand and looking like she had just wrestled a dryer into submission. Her hair was pulled back, her shirt was rumpled, and she dropped into the long chair beside him with the kind of sigh that usually came after years of putting up with everyone else's nonsense.

She took a sip, smacked her lips, and stared out toward the horizon for a long moment before speaking.

"You know, Charlie," she began, "I have to hand it to you. You actually pulled it off. Music awards, magazine covers, millions of fans. I figured you'd flame out by now, but look at you. Still here, raking it in, and somehow not dead in a ditch. I'm impressed."

Charlie cracked one eye open, giving her a suspicious look. "Are you… praising me? Or is this the start of some elaborate insult?"

Berta shrugged. "Maybe both. But credit where it's due. You turned your life around. You actually worked for it. And believe me, I do not hand out compliments like candy."

Charlie pushed himself up on one elbow and narrowed his eyes. "Okay, fine. What do you want?"

Berta glanced at him over the top of her bottle. "Alright, you got me. It's about Prudence."

Charlie groaned. "Why do I feel like I'm not gonna like this?"

"She's been itching to get into the nightlife. Clubs, bars, God knows what else. She keeps trying to sneak out, and so far I've stopped her from losing her virginity in some filthy back alley like her mother did at her age. But I can't keep her on lockdown forever. She's trouble, and trouble has a way of finding more trouble."

Charlie rubbed his face. "Where is this going, Berta?"

She leaned back and took another swig. "You've got a good thing going with your music. You've got money, you've got a name, and you've come a long way and changed yourself from a drunken bastard to a good guy. I'm saying maybe you could put her in one of your songs. Get her into the business side of things. Give her something to focus on before she goes off the rails. And if she decides she wants to jump your bone… well, better you than some rando humping her behind a dumpster."

Charlie stared at her, completely thrown.

"She's 18."

"...and horny. I don't want her to make the same mistake my daughters did. As long as you look after her and keep her safe, it's okay with me. Just looking after my family before it derails further and every single woman ends up knocked up, divorced and broke. And I ain't getting any younger to always keep an eye on them. So, think about it, Charlie," Berta said before she leaned back on the chair, sipping beer.

'What the hell?! This ain't the regular Berta. She looks tired and... Prudence, huh?!' Charlie thought.

---

[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS PLS]

Support link: www.patr eon.com/UnknownMaster

[6 advance chs] [All chs available for all tiers] [No double billing.]

+ [Brooklyn 99: 30 chs early access]