12. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Scarlet
I t’s been a week since that press conference, and every damn day, that asshole’s question keeps replaying in my head like a broken record, making me question why I even agreed to do this. The moment the question left his mouth, a surge of anger hit me, and I had no clue how to even begin to respond. I wanted to lash out, and tell him to go to hell for treating me the way everyone else does when they learn who I am. But I couldn’t. That’s just not me.
Despite all the shit he’s dealing with, I’m glad Ace had the guts to call out that idiot, and his stupid question. I wish I could speak my mind like that, without constantly needing to wear a mask in front of others. That’s what I really admire about Ace. He never holds back. No sugarcoating, no bullshit. He just tells it like it is, and maybe that’s something I need to learn.
Every day since then, I’ve been grinding away, immersing myself in the music, and committing to memory each song and its place in the setlist. The guys, especially Theo, have been remarkably patient and supportive. He’s always been there for me, supporting me through thick and thin. But no matter how hard I practice, that journalist’s words keep echoing in my head. What if I’m not good enough? What if they only gave me the gig because I’m Nate’s sister?
No, that can’t be it. They wouldn’t jeopardize everything by putting me in a position that could potentially ruin their shows. With a burning desire to prove my critics wrong, I push myself to the limit, practicing relentlessly until I reach my breaking point. I have to nail this—there’s no room for error, especially since the guys are relying on me.
On top of everything, I’m pissed that Ace is straight-up avoiding me. Every time the band gets together to run through the songs, he turns his back like I don’t even exist. When I ask questions, he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge me. It’s always Theo and Xander who step up and help. At first, I told myself he was just stressed, needing to focus on getting the album out. But it’s been four days since the album dropped, and nothing’s changed. He’s still ignoring me, acting like I’m invisible. What the hell is his problem?
On a brighter note, the album hit number one the day it dropped, and the guys were over the moon. That night, they headed to the hospital to celebrate with Nate. I wasn’t too keen on tagging along, thinking I’d let them enjoy their milestone without me. But Theo wasn’t having any of it and practically dragged me along. Even though Ace didn’t say a word to me all night, I could still feel his eyes on me. Every damn time I glanced in his direction, he’d quickly look away, like he hadn’t just been staring at me a second ago.
What the fuck is up with that? This hot-and-cold bullshit is driving me nuts. I know he sees me as nothing more than a casual fling, and yeah, it was awkward as hell after we hooked up, but come on. He can’t even manage two words now. Seriously, what the hell is that about?
Sitting here in my brother’s house, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness, as if the walls themselves are closing in on me. Theo’s off visiting Nate, and once again, I didn’t want to tag along and feel like a third wheel. I slump back on the couch, feeling the weight of the oppressive silence. Letting out a deep sigh, I yearn for someone to confide in, a girlfriend, anyone to talk to about the man who constantly consumes my thoughts, the man who’s been avoiding me like I don’t exist.
Last night, we had a big family dinner to say goodbye to Dad. Now that Nate is recovering, he’s going back to run his business, leaving Mom behind to assist Nate once he’s discharged from the hospital. As I sat across the table from Xander and Poppy, waiting for my meal, something hit me hard. Observing the way Xander's gaze lingers on Poppy, and the way she is his entire world, it made me yearn for the same—someone who supports me unconditionally, loving me for exactly who I am.
That envy sparked something deep inside me—a newfound determination. I’m done with Ace. No matter how much I crave him or how badly I want to feel his touch, I won’t allow myself to be treated like a casual fling anymore. I deserve better than that, and I’m not settling for being his plaything. Not anymore.
After dinner, we all went to visit Nate at the hospital, and that’s when I found out he’d gone behind my back and hired a mover to pack up all my stuff and put it in storage. He organized everything with my landlord, and the whole thing was done without me even knowing. As much as I love Nate, sometimes it feels like I have zero control over my life. When he told me, all I wanted to do was scream at him, but instead, I forced a smile to keep the peace. However, I did manage to tell him that it should’ve been my choice, not his.
The truth is, even though I’m pissed, part of me is relieved. The idea of going back to that place, and having to deal with Beck again...Well, it scares the shit out of me.
With everything weighing me down—the pressure of the tour and the uncertainty of the future—I ended up sleeping in this morning. I just couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. I could feel myself spiraling back into that dark place, and there was no way I was going to visit Nate like this.
When Theo walked into my room and flopped down beside me, I knew he could sense that something was off. He’s always been able to read my moods like a book. When he asked what was wrong, I tried to hide my emotions with a forced smile, but he could tell I was faking it. He pulled me in for a hug, the kind he always gives when he knows I’m struggling.
With Mom checking out of her hotel and moving into this house tonight, it’s time for me to get my shit together. Otherwise, she’ll start asking questions I’m not ready to answer. Mom has this uncanny ability to see right through me, and the last thing I want is for her to worry or pry into the depths of my thoughts. I just need to pull myself together and put on a brave face—at least for her sake. I can’t let her see just how much I’m struggling right now. It’s like I have to wear this mask of strength, even when I feel completely broken inside.
Once I finish showering and have a quick bite to eat, I make my way to the recording studio to hone my skills. With the tour kicking off in just three days, I need to go through the entire playlist, running every song through my head.
Making my way up the front steps of Ace’s magnificent home, I take a deep breath. I push open the door, my heart racing as I imagine the sight of him. But when I notice he’s not there, a wave of relief washes over me, and I let out a sigh. With everything I’m dealing with, I’m just not in the mood to face him today. I just want to immerse myself in the music.
Making my way toward the drums, I grab the folded paper with the entire setlist from my pocket. I put it down beside the drum kit, knowing it’ll be a handy backup if I need a quick reference, though I’m confident I can pull it off without looking at it. As I hold the drumsticks in my hands, I take a moment to center myself and let their familiar weight soothe my nerves. This is exactly where I belong, and I’m determined as ever to prove it.
With a deep breath, I dive into the first song, letting the rhythm take over and pushing all my doubts aside. Each beat feels like a step closer to showing I’m a drummer in my own right—someone who deserves to be here, not just because of my brother, but because I’ve got the talent and determination to back it up.
As I lose myself in the music, I transition smoothly from one song to the next. Each track builds my confidence, and I can feel myself hitting every beat exactly as it should be. By the time I reach the last song on the playlist, “Creep”—a cover the guys always perform—I allow myself to finally relax. I savor the soft, slow beat, taking a moment to catch my breath and appreciate the progress I’ve made.
As I take a deep breath and look up, my rhythm stumbles the moment I spot Ace standing in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes, intense and burning with an almost predatory gaze, send a shiver down my spine. The air crackles with an undeniable charge between us, that makes it nearly impossible for me to maintain a steady rhythm.
Despite the distraction, I push through, but his piercing gaze makes it difficult to concentrate. Every beat I play feels scrutinized, and I exert all my focus to resist the magnetic pull he exudes. Determined not to let him affect my performance, I lower my head, attempting to shield myself from the intensity of his gaze, which seems to trace my every movement.
But even with my eyes down, I can sense him moving closer, the subtle shift in the air signaling his approach. My heart pounds, the rhythm of the drums syncing with the rapid thumping in my chest. I can’t let this moment break me; I refuse to be distracted by the chaos he brings into my head.
When the song ends, I sit there, sweaty and breathless, reluctant to look up. After taking a few deep breaths, I finally lift my head. Ace strides over to the far wall, grabs two bottles of water, and starts making his way back toward me. His eyes move over me and the desire to feel his hands on my body is overwhelming.
“You’re really getting it now,” he says, handing me a bottle.
I take the bottle from him, remaining silent, still pissed about the way he’s been totally avoiding me.
Ace sits down on the nearby step, unscrews the lid, and takes a long drink. As he tilts his head back, I can’t help but watch the way his throat moves as he swallows. Just as he lowers his head, I avert my gaze and focus on opening my own bottle.
“You should have said you were coming,” Ace says. “I would have jammed with you.”
After taking a quick sip from the bottle, I replace the lid, trying my best to maintain my composure. “I just wanted to make sure I had it right,” I reply, leaning forward to set the bottle down near my feet.
“Theo mentioned Nate’s coming home tomorrow,” Ace continues, catching me off guard. It’s unusual for him to engage in small talk, especially considering his recent behavior.
“Yeah,” I respond, confused as to why he’s talking to me now after avoiding me for so long.
“Listen, Scarlet,” Ace says, his tone suddenly serious. When I lift my head to meet his gaze, our eyes lock for a brief moment before he looks away. “When we get out on tour, the press can be real assholes. You saw how they were the other day. That comment they made was fucked up.”
I look away, fumbling with the drumsticks in my hands. “It’s cool, Ace. It’s no different from the crap people usually say. I’m used to it.”
Even though I’m not facing him, I can feel the weight of his gaze, penetrating and intense. “I just want you to know,” he continues, his voice steady and unwavering, “that no matter what they write or say, Xander and I wouldn’t have brought you into the band if you weren’t up to the standard. This is a big deal for us—the first tour under our new label. So it wasn’t handed to you just because of Nate. I want you to remember that, no matter how much those fuckers keep spouting their bullshit. They’ll twist things to make headlines, and half of it isn’t even true.”
Nodding, I feel a slight release of tension, like a burden lifted. “Thanks, Ace. It means a lot to hear that.”
He nods in acknowledgment, then his eyes sweep across the room. After a moment, he stands and makes his way towards his guitar. “You want to go over some songs together?” he suggests, his tone more relaxed.
“Before we do that, can I ask you something?” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. I’m not usually this straightforward, but it feels important to bring it up.
“Yeah,” he replies, his eyes locked on the guitar as he slips the strap over his head and adjusts it on his shoulder. When I remain silent, his attention shifts back to me.
“Can I ask why you’ve been avoiding me?” I ask.
I catch a flicker of surprise on his face, and I see him swallow hard. His gaze drops to his guitar as he fiddles with the neck. “It’s just easier that way, Scar,” he says.
“Easier, how?” I press.
He lets out a deep breath, clearly reluctant to answer my question. “It just is, that’s all,” he says, his tone abrupt as he shifts the topic. “Now, are you ready to go through the set?” His gaze remains fixed on his guitar, avoiding mine, as if the instrument provides a shield against the conversation.
Ace’s fingers effortlessly pluck a few strings on his guitar, the sharp and crisp sound instantly snapping me back to reality. As he counts us in, I shift my focus to the task at hand, ready to dive into the work. With each beat, I remind myself to push aside the confusion and channel my energy into the music.
Like everyone else, I am excited to finally have my brother home. Theo and I hang up colorful balloons, filling the room with a festive atmosphere, while Poppy expertly bakes a mouthwatering welcome home cake. Ace and Xander take charge of the beers and have a ton of pizzas delivered. However, it’s difficult to overlook the peculiar feeling of seeing my brother in such a broken state. I can see it in his eyes; he absolutely hates being like this. He’d give anything to be a part of the tour, doing what he loves—being on stage in front of thousands of fans, feeling their energy.
As we sit around the table, surrounded by leftover pizza and cake, I can feel Ace’s gaze on me. Each time I catch him looking, he quickly shifts his eyes away, as if it’s an instinctive reaction, which leaves me feeling both frustrated and confused. What the hell is going on with him? Why the hell won’t he make eye contact? It’s getting harder and harder to overlook the mounting tension between us, and it’s driving me insane. I want to bridge whatever gap has formed between us, but it feels like I’m stuck in a game I don’t understand, with rules that constantly elude me.
At the table, everyone’s eyes are fixed on Alex. He sits on Xander’s lap, leaning forward, his elbows on the table as he enthusiastically shares his recent adventures with a woman he lovingly refers to as GG.
Glancing around the table, I can feel the love and warmth emanating from everyone towards this little boy. It’s truly a beautiful sight. I catch Theo’s radiant smile and Nate’s joyful grin, both of them wearing expressions of pure contentment. Despite everything Theo has been through, there is a genuine happiness that radiates from him. Seeing him and Nate like this fills me with a profound sense of peace.
With my eyes back on Alex, Nate’s hand reaches out to take mine, giving it a comforting squeeze. It’s a gesture he’s done countless times over the years. I give him a smile, attempting to conceal the whirlwind of anxiety brewing within me. Worries about making mistakes, becoming a headline for the wrong reasons, and confirming others’ doubts plague my thoughts.
Nate doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he turns his attention back to Alex, who is animatedly recounting a trip to an animal sanctuary. Nate’s thumb glides softly over the back of my hand, offering a comforting touch that calms my anxiety and anchors me in the moment. As the conversation shifts to the upcoming tour, I see a spark of excitement illuminate Ace and Xander’s expressions. They eagerly talk about the sold-out stadiums and the thrill of performing live.
Meanwhile, I try to zone out, pushing away the nerves about stepping into the spotlight. The sound of my name brings me back to reality in an instant. As my eyes lift, I feel the weight of everyone’s attention focused solely on me.
"You ready to show me, Scar?" Nate asks, glancing sideways at me.
I nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
Poppy and my mom stand up, their hands full of plates as they encourage everyone else to do the same. The room buzzes with activity as plates clink together and chairs screech against the floor.
“She’s so good, Nate, we might just let her stay in and let you take a permanent vacation. Better watch out!” Theo teases, with a wide, playful grin. I can see how much more at ease he is now that Nate is back home; his relaxed demeanor is a stark contrast to the tension he’s been grappling with.
Theo’s attention shifts as Alex comes bounding up to him, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Do you want to see the animals I got from the sanctuary, Uncle Theo?” Alex asks eagerly, practically bouncing on his feet.
Theo’s face lights up with a wide grin. “I thought you’d never ask,” he replies. “But I’ve got to make it quick—I need to show Uncle Nate how Aunt Scarlet’s stealing the spotlight in the band!”
Nate and I watch in silence, both of us smiling as Theo gets up and follows Alex toward the front door.
“You okay?” Nate asks, noticing my quiet demeanor. “You seem a bit off.”
I glance over at him, feeling a pang of vulnerability. “Just a little worried about messing everything up, I guess.”
Nate gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine, Scar. I’ve seen you handle way worse, and I know you’ve got this.”
His confidence in me eases some of the tension I’m feeling. “Thanks, Nate. I just hope I can live up to everyone’s expectations.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. Everyone here has your back, Scar, and we all believe in you. I know I do.”
I nod, taking in the nearly empty room. The kitchen is alive with the rhythmic clatter of dishes and the steady hum of running water as Poppy and Mom chat, their voices blending with the sounds as they finish up the last of the plates and stack them in the dishwasher.
“You’re gonna have a blast, Scar,” Nate says. “Just remember to enjoy every moment.” He slowly rises from his seat, moving cautiously due to the stiff cast and the immobilization of his arm. Looking down at me, he asks, “Ready to head over to the studio?”
“Yeah.” I push myself up and walk alongside Nate as we leave the house.
Stepping outside into the soft twilight, heading toward Ace’s place, Nate’s mood undergoes a noticeable change. “You know,” he mutters, his voice filled with intensity, “this shit with Beck isn’t over. If I ever cross paths with him again, I’ll kick his ass.”
I turn to him, shaking my head. “Nate, drop it. I don’t want to think about Beck or any of that right now. I’ve got enough on my plate without adding that mess to the mix.”
As we approach Xander's place and are just about to walk past it, the front door swings open. Theo and Alex step out, and Alex's excitement is infectious. "You should have seen it, Uncle Theo! It was like they were in the wild—so different from the zoo. Sometimes, it was even hard to spot them!"
Theo chuckles, ruffling Alex's hair. "Sounds like a trip me and Uncle Nate need to experience too. Maybe we’ll all go together one day."
“Really? You’d take me with you?” Alex asks eagerly, his eyes lighting up as he bounces down the front steps.
“If your mom and dad say it’s okay, you can definitely come,” Theo replies with a warm smile.
As soon as they reach the bottom of the front steps, Theo falls into step beside Nate, while Alex dashes around to squeeze between Nate and me. I watch as Alex slips his small hand into Nate’s. “I’m glad you are home, Uncle Nate,” he says.
“Me too, Alex,” Nate replies, his smile widening as he looks down at the little boy. The warmth in his gaze reflects the deep bond he now shares with his nephew.
“Where’s Dad?” Alex asks, his eyes scanning the area.
“I think he’s at the studio,” Nate says. Before we can say anything more, Alex releases Nate’s hand and sprints down the driveway towards Ace’s house.
The three of us watch Alex’s excited sprint, his tiny legs propelling him swiftly as he races up the front steps and disappears into the house.
“I want one of those,” Theo says. “Never been interested in having a kid before, Alex.”
“Me too,” Nate agrees with a chuckle.
“Well, you two have to stop sleeping with those groupies first and find someone to settle down with,” I reply. As soon as the words escape my mouth, I realize my mistake. As Nate and Theo exchange a glance, a heavy silence settles, the weight of my comment about Bianca hanging between us.
“Sorry, guys,” I say, with remorse. “I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
“It’s cool, Scar,” Nate says, his voice steady yet tinged with sadness. “You know how much we loved her and why it’s something we can’t revisit.”
I reach out and take his hand in mine, offering the same comfort and support he’s always extended to me. I find myself in a rare position of being the source of reassurance for him, attempting to repair the damage that my words had unknowingly created.
After entering Ace’s house, we make our way towards the studio. The air is alive with anticipation as Theo and Ace casually throw their guitar straps over their shoulders. Xander confidently stands before the microphone. Meanwhile, I settle in behind the drum set, trying to find a comfortable position.
Nestled in the corner, Nate and Alex sit comfortably in the cozy chairs. Nate’s intense gaze never wavers, as he closely follows my every move with unwavering concentration. As we gear up ready to play, I can feel the rush of adrenaline pulsating within me.
As Ace counts us in, the vibrant rhythm envelops us, and we dive headfirst into the music. Nate’s unwavering stare throws me off balance, causing me to stumble slightly, missing a beat. I try to recover quickly, aware that the guys have noticed my slip-up. Determined not to let it distract me, I push through, focusing intently on every note and blocking everything else out to get it right.
As we reach the third song on the playlist, I glance up and catch Nate’s smile, his eyes sparkling with joy. It’s a proud, genuine grin—the kind he used to flash whenever I outplayed him in our childhood competitions. Seeing that familiar look again feels like a warm embrace, a silent affirmation from someone who’s always had faith in me. It’s as if he’s telling me, without words, that I’m doing just fine, and that assurance fuels my performance.