Chapter Forty-Five – A.J.
Heaven, when I held you again
How could we ever just be friends?
I would rather die than let you go
Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez others just stick around way too long because they shouldn’t have happened in the first place. I think my story with my parents falls into that last one.
Leaving put a wedge between us. But pride and guilt — from all of us — kept it there. But different of what I always thought, talking to them wasn’t hard.
I told them about my journey with Vicious. How this band isn’t that tired cliché of unprotected sex, drugs, and lost identities. I explained that, even though Victor’s the guy at the helm, we’ve also got Carlos — and he’s the one who made this whole thing feel like family.
Even just saying the obvious — like how there’s no petty drama or fight for the spotlight in the band — made me feel lucky all over again.
Lucky to be this son of a gun who gets to live off music alongside people I’d do anything for.
Unlike a lot of bands out there, we’re not in it for the money.
We’re in it because we’re grateful — for the way we saved each other.
We were four immigrants, chasing a dream in the one country that crushes more dreams than any other. Next Idol was our last hope, each in our own way, and knowing we’re ending our first world tour stronger than we began it is my second-greatest joy in life.
My first, without a doubt, was finding a woman who saw me as more than just the cool, good-looking guy—which, let’s be honest, I am—but Alexandra recognized I’m not only that.
Being optimistic has never been a mask or a shield; I genuinely like seeing the bright side, focusing on solutions rather than problems, and, whenever I can, making life better for someone I love.
But there was always a piece—small, subtle, but persistent—that knew something was missing.
Like a nearly complete puzzle with one corner piece gone, only noticed if you really look.
That missing piece was my parents. And how much I missed them.
Alexandra saw that void—even when I spoke of it without hope—and had the courage I never did to reach out to them and try…
That proved to me once again how right I was to fight to bring her out of her shell, and that loving her this fiercely is just the natural consequence of the care, respect, and admiration we’ve built over time.
Martha and Patrick came back that night.
They met the band, talked even more with Alexandra, and made sure to thank Carlos for his constant support.
As odd as it was to have them here celebrating my twenty-fifth birthday, there was something poetic about having them at the first birthday I’ve truly celebrated since leaving home.
They brought a box of butter tarts—my favorite Canadian treat—with a note in Martha’s handwriting: “You may have left, but the taste of home was always waiting for you.” Alexandra and I smiled over them at breakfast the next day, and that mix of brown sugar, butter, and syrup filling was exactly as I remembered.
Before meeting my Miss Petulant, my babe, I barely knew how my parents were doing. Now we’ve got a trip planned for the summer. Alex will see the house where I grew up, the streets of my childhood, the place that shaped me—and I’ll spend time with my folks.
After such an intense year, being alone with her on this New Year’s Eve brings a peace we both needed. And among all the absolute truths life’s taught me, that it always comes full circle is my favorite.
“A kiss for your thoughts,” Alexandra whispers, wrapping her arms around me from behind.
“I was just thinking how damn good it feels to be in love with someone who saw my redemption when I couldn’t,” I say, running my hands along her arms. She kisses my back, slow and sure.
“A very wise man once told me we stumble through life, and it’s lucky to find someone who helps us up.”
“I think he was right,” I say, turning to face her.
“He usually is. But don’t tell him that.”
“Our little secret.” I wink, pressing my lips to hers. “When you left me here, I thought you were getting ready for our New Year’s…”
“I was deep conditioning my hair. But I’ll wash it out and open my mystery box soon,” she teases, playing with the box I gave her this morning.
It’s got everything she needs for tonight: outfits, shoes, the whole deal. I didn’t want her stressing about those little details, so I worked it all out with Dani, who knows exactly what Alexandra likes. Now all she’s gotta do is show up.
“Is there a box for you too, or am I over here in full princess mode while you rock your football jersey?” Her eyebrow lifts in what almost feels like an accusation, and I roll my eyes.
“A jersey on New Year’s, Alex? Please. You forget—I’m not like other boys,” I say, flipping my hair with a grin. She laughs, kisses me again, and disappears back into the bedroom.
***
I take a deep breath, spritz my cologne twice, and fold the flyer Victor sent me before slipping it into my pocket.
Christmas is behind us, but this is Alexandra ’s gift, and I’m gonna keep it safe.
When I get to the living room, it’s empty.
I check the clock—she’s still got eight minutes before we’ve got to head out.
I send a text in the band group chat—Victor and Dani included:
Me: This year was intense. Best year of our lives, I’d say. Thanks for taking me in and giving me the best damn family. Here’s to an even bigger 2025 for all of us.
Dani’s like is immediate.
Dani: The band—and life—would be way less fun without you. Thanks for sticking around and making my days better. But there are still three hours to New Year’s.
I laugh—there couldn’t be a more perfect answer for the girl who insists on only eating after midnight.
Victor: If this year was incredible, just wait for the next. You’ll record the album of the year, get at least four Grammy nominations, and if you don’t have the most profitable tour and win at least two of those awards, I’ll quit. You’ve earned every good thing coming your way.
Victor: Thanks for getting eliminated from Next Idol and becoming my biggest success story in years. You’re the luckiest, most successful failures in music.
Rick: Not sure that was supposed to be a compliment, but I’m offended.
Rick: It’s already midnight here in England, so I can tell you—2025 is going to be amazing. Mine already is.
Thomas: I hope we get a private jet for the most profitable tour of the year, or I’m calling for a disband.
Guilherme: I think we’re Victor’s best band—no idea why he’s treating us like this.
I laugh, my back still aches just thinking about that tour bus.
Victor: I haven’t even hit 2025 yet and he’s already making demands. See you next year, guys. Finish this tour soon so we can start the next record.
He leaves the chat.
Guilherme: A.J.’s right. This was the best year of our lives. We should be grateful—and ready for an even bigger one. Love you guys.
Alexandra’s bedroom door opens. I send back a quick “same here” and slip my phone into my pocket.
The click of her heel makes my pulse jump, and then her right foot steps into the living room.
The hem of her rose-pink dress flows over her dark skin in a way that makes my heart race.
The fabric hangs loose until it’s cinched at her waist, and then it holds her chest in these delicate cups, supported by a thin, fragile strap that looks like it might give out any second.
She’s breathtaking, but nothing makes her more beautiful than the way she’s smiling at me right now.
“Love that it has pockets,” she says, sliding her hands into the hidden slits at her hips as she walks over.
“You really are the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” I say, still taking her in, too awed to touch her hair or that dress. She has to be perfect tonight, or I’ll never forgive myself.
Still, I take a step forward, because I just can’t help it.
Just to take in the way her eyes sparkle up close, how the light glides across her cheek, how that lipstick looks like it was picked to test every bit of my self-control.
She smiles that wicked little smile, like she doesn’t know she’s my whole damn world.
“A.J.,” she murmurs, and I meet those eyes, soft and sweet. “Kiss me.”
I move in slow, heart thudding, fingers brushing the back of her neck—until she grabs my waist and deepens the kiss with zero hesitation. I let out a low laugh against her mouth—of course she wouldn’t let me be gentle tonight. But I kiss her back, hard.
It doesn’t last long.
“If you pull me like that again, you’re gonna have to take responsibility for the baby I’m gonna put in you,” I warn, pulling back with every bit of control I have.
“Don’t worry, amor . I’m a responsible girl. I think we could…” She puts her hands on my waist again, and I take a step back.
“Easy. We’ve got all night. Right now, we need to get upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
“You’ve seen the New Year’s traffic. No way we’re getting there by car.”
Her smile spreads slow and wide.
“We’re taking a helicopter?”
“Perks of living in a building with a helipad,” I say, leading her to the door, her excitement shining bright enough to light up the night.