5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Scarlet
A s I sit and wait for more updates on my brother’s condition, my mind races with worries beyond just Nate’s well-being, like my parents seeing my face. Just the thought of them seeing me like this, broken and bruised, makes my stomach churn with anxiety. Nate and Theo get it—they understand the hell Beck has put me through, the suffocating possessiveness and the constant control he exerted over me. They know all the shit I’ve endured with him over the years. That’s the thing with my brother and Theo, I don’t hold back; I tell them everything.
Well, almost everything. I haven’t told them about those two wild nights I spent with Mr tall, dark and brooding sitting across from me. He’s been avoiding eye contact with me ever since we arrived.
Theo sits beside me, his grip on my hand so tight that it feels like my circulation is being cut off. With anxious energy, his leg bounces uncontrollably, and I reach out and rest my palm on his thigh, hoping to offer some solace. His gaze immediately shifts upwards when he feels my touch, his attention drawn to the bruises adorning my face. I make a mental note to fix them up with more concealer in the bathroom before Mom and Dad arrive.
“You alright?” I ask Theo.
“Yeah, Scar,” he replies, his smile appearing forced and not reaching his eyes.
Over the years, I’ve learned to read Theo’s every little quirk, just like I can with my brother. Even though he’s putting up a brave front, I can see through the facade and sense the underlying struggle he’s going through.
“Don’t worry,” I reassure him, attempting to lighten the mood, “he’s tough. Remember that time he fell out of the tree and broke his ankle? It took several days before he finally broke the news to Mom that he might need to go to the hospital. If he could handle that, he can handle this.”
Finally, a genuine smile spreads across Theo’s face, accompanied by a light-hearted chuckle.
“Yeah, I kept telling the idiot something was broken, but he wouldn’t listen. It’s like he thought he was invincible or something.”
“I know,” I laugh, reminiscing about the countless attempts Theo made to get Nate to admit that something was wrong. I can vividly picture Theo’s unmistakable handwriting, with its large, bold letters etched onto Nate’s cast, mocking him: “I told you, dickhead, it was broken."
He watches me, a small laugh escaping his lips as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze, almost as if he’s savoring the memory. It’s a soothing moment, offering a brief escape from the whirlwind of anxiety that has consumed me since Ace broke the news. As I wipe a stray tear from under my eye, I steal a glance at Ace and Xander. They sit across from us, their faces filled with seriousness as they quietly observe our interaction.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmur, giving Theo’s hand a final reassuring squeeze before getting up and walking towards the bathroom.
As I step into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I’m struck by the sight. The bruise on my face has turned a nasty shade of purple, looking even worse in the dim light. I move closer, setting my bag down on the counter with a thud. I turn on the faucet, and the sound of rushing water fills the room as I let the cool liquid flow into my cupped hands. I splash the water onto my face, hoping that the sensation will help me forget the overwhelming events of the day.
As I turn off the water, I rest my palms against the countertop, taking deep breaths to calm myself. The facade I’ve been maintaining is showing signs of wear and tear, revealing the deep-seated insecurities that constantly plague me. As I stare into the mirror, I can’t help but imagine the shock on my parent’s faces when they see the deep purple bruise on my face. I’ve always been the one who feels like a leaf caught in the wind, lacking a clear purpose or sense of stability. My life feels like a never-ending mess: no steady job, no reliable income, no safe place to call home. The longest job I ever held was with the band, where coincidentally my ex, Beck,was the lead singer. Relationships? They’re as unstable as my career prospects. If I were to join another band, I’d have to navigate through a sea of sleazy dickheads and entitled male groupies who make unwarranted advances. But music is my lifeline, it flows in my blood.
With all their success and fame, I bet it’s a whole different world for my brother’s band. I know how groupies practically throw themselves at musicians, hungry for a taste of the excitement. Resisting that kind of temptation is a challenge for most guys. My two brothers seem to revel in it; sometimes, it feels like their way of numbing the pain from losing Bianca all those years ago. And Ace? It’s clear that he enjoys it as well, his vibe gives it away.
I can’t help but wonder if he gives all those groupies the same mind-blowing pleasure he gave me, which was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. Even though Ace made it clear it was just a one-night thing, he made sure to satisfy me in ways I didn’t even know were possible. In that moment, overwhelmed by an insatiable hunger, lost in a whirlwind of desire, I screamed his name. That kind of surrender was completely new to me. Maybe that’s why I am filled with a deep longing to feel his touch once more.
Based on what I know about Xander, I don’t think he would be into the groupie scene at all. Maybe back in the day, before Poppy and Alex came into the picture, but from what Nate’s told me, Xander’s been head over heels for Poppy since high school. Their love is something else—stronger than anything I’ve seen. It’s real, deep, and unwavering. That’s exactly the thing I desire. I want someone to love me with the same unwavering devotion that Xander loves Poppy. Rather than being seen as just a quick fuck or a pretty face, I strive for a genuine connection with someone who sees me for who I really am, not just the surface.
After reapplying concealer to my face and masking the purple tinge on my cheek, I feel a slight sense of relief, despite the faintly lingering discoloration. With a resigned sigh, I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head toward the door.
As I crack open the bathroom door, my heart skips a beat when I hear my parents’ voices. Peering out, I see them clearly.
With her arm around his waist, Mom stands beside Theo—a constant source of comfort she has provided throughout his troubled upbringing. Mom and Dad have always been there for Theo, encouraging him in everything he does and believing in his potential.
I shift my gaze to Dad, taking in the sight of his tattooed arms crossed over his chest as he engages in conversation with Ace and Xander. He’s always had a soft spot for those two, admiring their talent and how seamlessly they integrated with Nate and Theo. From the moment he met them, he could tell they were genuine guys.
I take another deep breath, feeling the air fill my lungs as I prepare myself to face them. I square my shoulders and emerge from the bathroom.
As soon as I step out, I can feel my dad’s gaze fixed on me. His eyes narrow, focusing on the attempt I made to conceal the bruises, leaving no doubt that he has connected the dots. My pulse spikes. I should’ve known there’s no hiding anything from him. I see it in his face—the furrowed brows and determined set of his jaw—as his protective instinct kicks in.
Ace and Xander, sensing his change in demeanor, turn their heads to see what has caught his attention.
"Scar, what the fuck happened to you?" His voice carries a sharpness that demands immediate obedience, and loaded with that heavy authority only a father can wield.
My mother and Theo both cast worried glances in my direction. With a quick glance at Ace and Xander, I turn my focus back to my dad, forcing a weak smile to appear on my face.
“Oh, you know me,” I shrug, trying to play it off, “always tripping over my own two feet.” Yes, I admit that I can be clumsy at times, but deep down, I know that if my dad ever found out what truly happened, he’d be ready to tear Beck apart for hurting his little girl. But for now, this isn’t about me—it’s about Nate. Right now, he’s the one who needs our focus and support.
My mom lets go of Theo and hurries over to me, providing a much-needed distraction. I’m aware my dad isn’t buying my flimsy excuse, and I can almost hear his voice demanding more details in the back of my mind. Her arms wrap around me, pulling me into a warm and comforting embrace, providing a much-needed respite. It’s mentally draining to conceal my true self, a person who feels lost and lacks a clear purpose in life.As Nate’s dream of becoming a famous drummer came true, my own dreams remained trapped in a frustrating loop, forever out of reach.
“Hey, baby,” Mom whispers, her warm breath tickling my ear. “How are you holding up?” She pulls back slightly, her smile carrying a touch of sadness. She’s perceptive enough to detect that there’s more going on than meets the eye. I can’t help but wonder if Theo let something slip—his nervousness always gives him away, especially when Mom starts pressing him. He’s always been quick to crack under pressure, like that time she grilled him about whether Nate and I were drinking at parties and he immediately spilled the beans.
“I’m just worried about Nate,” I say, trying to divert the conversation from any serious talk, especially with my father and the guys present.
"I’m worried too, sweetie, but he’ll be okay. We both know your brother and how resilient he is." She smiles warmly and gives me a reassuring squeeze before taking my hand and guiding me back toward the group.
As I lift my gaze, I meet my dad’s eyes and then walk over to hug him. I feel his muscular arms enveloping me, creating a sense of safety and comfort. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, spending countless hours in the garage with him, surrounded by the scent of motor oil working on one of his many motorcycles. He’s never treated me differently just because I’m a girl, and I appreciate that he’s always given me the same opportunities as Nate and Theo.
As he holds me, I can feel his unwavering support, unspoken yet palpable. “If that asshole hurt you, Scar, you need to tell me,” he says, his voice filled with a mix of anger and protectiveness.
“I would, Dad,” I say, attempting to brush it off, “but it was just me being clumsy.” Despite knowing I should tell him the truth, I find myself too embarrassed and emotionally drained to confront the situation right now.
The room falls silent as the doctor enters. Hand in hand, my mother and father stand before the middle-aged physician, their expressions filled with both hope and concern.
Stepping closer, Theo’s hand finds mine, and I can feel the tension coursing through him as we anxiously await an update on Nate. Ace and Xander take a step back, creating distance as the doctor bombards us with incomprehensible medical jargon that makes my head spin.
When I glance at my dad, I can tell from his puzzled look that he is just as confused as I am. After a few seconds, he raises his hand, signaling for the doctor to stop.
“Hey, Doc, I’m lost here. Can you break this down into simpler terms? I just need to know if my son will be okay.”
A sigh escapes the doctor’s lips, followed by a slow, solemn nod. “Yes,” the doctor says, “your son will be just fine. The surgery went well, and his vital signs are stable. He’ll need ample rest and a significant amount of time for his shoulder to recover, but apart from that, he’s doing fine. It’s going to be a long recovery, but the operation was a success.”
I feel Theo’s grip on my hand tighten as a visible wave of relief washes over him. My usually composed dad releases my mom’s hand and takes a step forward, surprising everyone by pulling the doctor in for a hug. Witnessing my father’s tattooed arms embrace the small doctor is a surprising and heartwarming sight, leaving the doctor momentarily caught off guard. With a warm pat on the doctor’s back, my dad expresses his gratitude, saying, “Thanks a lot, Doc. You don’t know how much this means to us.”
“Can we see him?” my mother asks, stepping forward.
“Yes, he’s awake, though still a bit groggy. I’ll have a nurse come in to escort you to his room.”
With that, the doctor exits the room, leaving us in anticipation as we wait for the nurse. Observing my father, I notice how he exhales deeply, his body relaxing as the burden of worry about Nate seems to vanish. I know him well enough to recognize that he’d have concealed his anxiety, always putting on a brave face for my mom’s sake, a dependable pillar in times of crisis.
Just then, the petite nurse returns—the same one from earlier, her cheeks still flushed with a touch of embarrassment from her encounter with Xander. Before uttering a word, she glances at Xander, then redirects her focus to my mother and father.
“Follow me,” she says. “Your son’s room is this way.” She spins around without waiting for a reply, leading the way to Nate’s room. With brisk, purposeful strides, she heads down a long corridor, her focus fixed on leading us to Nate’s room, barely pausing to check if we’re keeping up.
Finally reaching the room, she moves aside to allow my parents to enter. Her eyes linger on Theo standing beside me before shifting to Ace and Xander trailing behind.
I’ve seen this kind of shit way too often, especially with my brother and Theo. Instead of being seen as ordinary guys pursuing their passions, they are treated like celebrities. But Xander’s level of attention is on a whole different scale. It’s mind-boggling how he manages it. Even a simple task like getting an update on my brother turns into the nurse, stumbling over herself in Xander’s presence. I get it; Xander’s a big deal. But no wonder Ace had to intervene and speed things up—otherwise, we would have wasted the entire day, waiting for the nurse to break free from her fixation on Xander.
The sight of Nate lying in the bed prompts Theo to tighten his grip on my hand, clearly taken aback by what he sees. Nate looks so frail, his arm and shoulder encased in a stiff, bound cast. His chest grabs my attention, displaying a tattoo that proudly states “Bianca” over his heart—a constant symbol of his unwavering devotion to her, a love that endures with unwavering intensity.
As Theo releases my hand and moves toward the bed, I stand frozen, unable to tear my gaze away from Nate lying there in that damn bed. A whirlwind of emotions crashes over me, and I can’t help but wonder what if things had turned out differently? What if I had lost him today? Would he ever know just how much he means to me? Life's fragility hits hard, especially for Theo, Nate, and me. The pain of losing Bianca hit us like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder of life’s unpredictable nature.
Xander navigates around me, making his way to the end of the bed, while I can sense Ace’s quiet presence behind me. Even though I can't see him, I feel a comforting warmth as his hand rests on my lower back, guiding me gently forward. His touch sends a tingling sensation coursing through my body.
“Come on, Scarlet. Nate needs you,” he says softly, nudging me forward.
With my mother and father on the right side of the bed and Xander stationed at the foot, I make my way around to the other side and stand beside Theo. Holding Nate’s hand, Theo clenches it with such force that his knuckles whiten. A dense silence engulfs the room, bearing down on us as we quietly observe Nate sleeping, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts.
Ace moves closer, positioning himself beside me. Without even touching me, his presence alone sends my heart racing, like an electric surge. It’s a reaction that I don’t experience with anyone else, perhaps because of the profound connection we had a few months ago - those two nights where he pushed my boundaries and awakened sensations I had never felt before. Even though he explicitly stated that our encounter was nothing more than a casual fling—his words, not mine—the impact he has left on me is undeniable.
I lift my head and scan the people standing around the bed, taking in the sight of my parents, their eyes fixated on Nate. My gaze then shifts to Xander, whose eyes remain locked on Ace, their intensity making me feel as if he’s accusing him of something. I can’t help but wonder if Xander knows the truth of what happened between us. The intensity of Xander’s stare makes me suspect that Ace might have let something slip.
In a split second, I divert my eyes, praying that my brother never finds out about this news. I know how fiercely protective he is, just like Theo. High school was a nightmare whenever I tried dating—thanks to Nate and Theo, my reputation as unapproachable spread like wildfire.
But this is something entirely different. Ace is one of them, and I know that if my brother or Theo ever found out, it would destroy the strong connection these guys have. I know them well enough to realize they’d never forgive Ace for crossing that line.
Witnessing the profound connection between these guys, I can’t help but yearn for a similar experience, something that has eluded me my whole life. It’s incredibly frustrating how my appearance overshadows any chance for genuine relationships, leaving me pursued by men who see me as nothing more than a conquest. This shallow perception has strained my friendships with other women. People wrongly assume I’m promiscuous, making it nearly impossible to build meaningful connections. Now, I feel more alone than ever.
My brief fling with Ace—just a one-night stand, or you could say a two-night affair—only reinforces the painful reality that guys often see me as just someone to get down and dirty with for a night. Despite that, I still crave to be valued for who I am beyond my physical appearance. Since those nights with Ace, I’ve been left wondering if I’m destined to always be just another conquest, with men treating me as a temporary pleasure and discarding me like I’m nothing more than a passing thrill.
Nate's eyes slowly flutter open, and as he begins to stir, I instinctively reach out, intertwining my fingers with Ace’s, seeking solace in our touch. To my surprise, Ace doesn’t pull away; his hand remains steady and comforting, offering a small refuge amidst all the tension in the room. Despite the warmth of our joined hands, my gaze stays locked on Nate, unable to shift away from his fragile state.
“Theo,” Nate mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep as he slowly opens his eyes, still adjusting to the brightness.
“Hey, Nate,” Theo replies, his voice filled with a gentle yet unmistakable sense of relief. “It’s so fucking good to see you, man.”
Nate scans the room, his eyes darting around until they finally settle on Mom and Dad. A slow smile spreads across his face. “I told you, Mom, I’d see you before we head out on tour,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, you did,” she replies, her eyes filled with love and tenderness as she leans in to plant a soft kiss on his forehead.
My brother was over the moon about the band finally going out on their own—selling out stadiums in thirty minutes and adding new dates due to the overwhelming demand. He was so proud that they were managing everything themselves, from the album to the tour. But now, all of that’s gone to hell because of this accident. It’s going to take months for Nate to get his arm back in shape, let alone play for hours on stage. I can already see the headlines: Broken Oasis forced to cancel their sold-out shows, leaving fans disappointed and speculating about the future.
As Mom pulls away, Nate’s eyes meet mine, then drift to my cheek, noticing the marks. I hold my breath, silently pleading that he won’t mention Beck’s violent outburst in front of Mom and Dad. It’s bad enough that everyone here knows what I’ve been through—Nate bringing it up would only make things more uncomfortable, especially with Dad in the room.