11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Ace
F uck me. I can’t stop thinking about yesterday. It was fucking insane. No girl has ever gotten to me the way Scarlet did. I’m always the one in control, but the way she rode my cock and reveled in it—God, I’ve replayed it in my head a hundred times, sometimes with my cock in my hand. Who would’ve thought that shy, sexy little blonde could make me lose my shit like that? Well, fuck, that’s a new one.
I’ve been with plenty of women, sometimes even more than one at a time, and none of them ever made me feel the way she did. All the filthy things they’ve done, the stuff I’ve seen—it doesn’t compare to how she blew my fucking mind yesterday.
When it was over, I didn’t know what the fuck to say because I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. And yeah, I know I broke the bro code again. But that hot-as-fuck moment with her—I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Still, there was this awkward tension between us after, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.
I snap out of my haze when I hear my phone ping. Moving over to the countertop where I left it, I flip it over to see a message from Xander.
Xander: You need to come over here, now.
Fuck. Has he found out I was with Scarlet again? My heart kicks up a notch, and I quickly type back.
Ace: Why?
As my fingers hover over the screen, I feel the weight of yesterday’s events crashing back into me. There’s no way he could possibly know. Right? I grip my phone, heart pounding, praying like fuck that Xander hasn’t found out about what went down with Scarlet. No, if he knew, there’d be no texts—he’d show up here, ready to knock me on my ass.
I exhale the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and stare at the screen. The bubbles flicker for a moment before his message pops up.
Xander: Band meeting about the press conference today.
I slump against the counter, relief flooding through me, but my pulse is still racing. I inwardly groan. I’ve been riding high on the afterglow of yesterday’s wild session with Scarlet, and now Xander’s dragging me back to reality with this paparazzi bullshit. Just my fucking luck.
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I head for the door, already thinking of some bullshit excuse to dodge the press. After that mess with the asshole photographer, there’s no way I’m dealing with the media right now. Xander can handle it—he’s been through enough of this crap, especially after the scandal with the underage girl that Reg, that piece of shit, set up during our Australian tour.
I walk down my front steps and stroll towards Xander’s place.
Up ahead, I spot Theo stepping out of his house. Pausing on the front steps, he glances back toward the door. Scarlet appears, enjoying a slice of toast, her tousled hair falling around her shoulders as if she had just got out of bed. She looks stunning, as usual. As I watch her take a bite of toast, memories of what her mouth did to me yesterday flood my mind, and I feel my cock twitch.
Fuck. I quickly turn my head, forcing the thoughts out of my mind. Now’s definitely not the time to be thinking about that, especially with the guys around. They know me too damn well—they’d figure out something’s up in no time.
When I reach Xander’s house, I take the front steps, two at a time and swing open the door without bothering to announce my arrival. I cut through the front room and head straight for the kitchen. Scattered music sheets on the grand piano tell me that Poppy’s been messing around with her favorite songs again. The floor is littered with Alex’s LEGO pieces. Now, the place feels more like a home, filled with a welcoming atmosphere that is worlds away from the cold empty vibe when Xander was living here alone.
I walk into the kitchen and spot Xander hunched over the counter, focused on a pile of papers with his half-eaten breakfast beside him.
"Whatever the fuck you're thinking, I’m not doing it," I say, cutting right to the chase.
Xander straightens up, hits me with that look—the one that says, "You’re fucking doing it." He doesn’t even need to say a word, just raises an eyebrow like he’s completely unimpressed. He takes a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes locked on me with that mix of annoyance.
I scowl, crossing my arms. “I’m not in the fucking mood to deal with this media shit. I’ve got more important things to do, like finishing our damn album.”
Behind me, I hear voices growing louder—Theo and Scarlet are on their way in. But I keep my eyes locked on Xander, letting him see exactly how pissed I am.
As Xander sets his coffee cup down with a resounding clink, Theo and Scarlet enter.
The atmosphere shifts with their arrival. Theo flashes me that cocky smirk of his, his eyes gleaming with confidence, while Scarlet’s restless gaze darts between me and Xander, like she’s waiting for someone to snap.
“Quick, take a seat, Scar,” Theo says with that annoying grin. “It’s pretty entertaining watching these two fuckers go at it.”
I shoot him a glare, but his smug grin just makes it worse.
“No one’s going at it,” Xander snaps, clearly fed up with Theo’s bullshit. He grabs his coffee and the stack of papers, then strides over to the table where Theo and Scarlet are already sitting.
When Xander sits down and notices I’m still standing there, he nudges a chair out with his foot, a silent order for me to join him. Then he lowers his head, shuffling through the papers like it’s the most important thing in the world.
“Kit has scheduled a press conference today at twelve,” Xander announces, lifting his gaze to lock onto mine. “We’re all required to be there to make a statement about the upcoming tour and to introduce Scarlet.”
I let out a frustrated sigh and head over to the table. I can already picture the storm of questions and scrutiny headed my way.
“You know this is just going to turn into a shitstorm about what happened three days ago,” I say, pulling out a chair, all while avoiding eye contact with Scarlet, who’s sitting across from me.
“Ace, I fucking get it,” Xander snaps, his frustration palpable. “Trust me, I know how those assholes operate. I’ve dealt with their bullshit firsthand. But this is about our label now. If we want to prove to the world and that prick Lionel that we can stand on our own, you need to get your head out of your ass and face this. Every media outlet is gonna run with the story that we can’t make it without Victory Records,” he says, leaning forward on his elbows, glaring at me like I’m a damn idiot. “This is our chance to show them and our fans that the tour is still on and to officially introduce Scarlet as Nate’s replacement. You need to be there and put all that bullshit aside.”
“You know they won’t let it go. They’ll just keep pushing,” I say, frustration creeping into my voice.
I glance over and see Scarlet and Theo watching us as we keep firing questions at each other.
“I know,” Xander replies, his tone clipped. “But you can deflect. Just keep steering the conversation back to the tour. We’ve been doing that for years, so it shouldn’t be that hard.”
Theo rests a hand on my shoulder, that stupid grin of his making me want to punch him right now. “You’ll be fine, man. Just don’t pull any of that dumbass shit you’re famous for. If you go full “Ace” on them, I’ll make sure to distract them with my epic dance moves.” He laughs.
I can’t help but grin at the asshole; he always knows how to lighten the mood. Scarlet bursts out laughing at his comment, and I glance over at her, a smile forming on my lips. Her eyes lock with mine as she laughs, and I can’t tear my gaze away while the laughter around the table slowly fades.
Then Xander’s voice cuts in, pulling Scarlet’s attention away from me. “Scarlet, did you ever do a press conference with your old band?”
“No,” she replies, a smile dancing on her lips. “If we had, no one would’ve shown up or given a damn.”
Her smile is infectious, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her. I know I should play it cool because if I don’t snap out of it soon, Theo will catch on to what’s been brewing between us, and Xander will definitely know I’ve gone there again with her.
“Bit of a heads-up, Scarlet,” Xander says, taking another sip of his coffee before setting the mug back on the table. “These guys can be real assholes. If they latch onto something, they’ll run with it, so we need this press conference to go smoothly. Usually, Ace handles the talking for the band, but with everything that’s gone down, I’ll do most of it this time. I’ll start with a statement about the tour and introduce you as Nate’s replacement for the two-month run. After that, they’ll get a chance to ask you questions.”
Scarlet glances around the group, a flicker of anxiety flashing in her eyes. “What kind of questions?”
“Probably the usual stuff,” Theo says, flashing a reassuring smile. “Questions about your music, how you’re feeling about joining the band. Just standard shit, you know. You’ll be fine, Scar, trust me.” He reaches out, wrapping his hand around hers and giving it a comforting squeeze. “You’ll nail it.”
Scarlet’s eyes soften, and she nods, her nervousness easing a bit. It’s clear that with Theo’s support, she can handle the pressure of the tour. I’ve always seen Theo as the class clown, the fucking idiot, the guy who’s always up for a laugh, but with Scarlet, there’s a different side to him. He’s not just the comic relief. He’s her rock. Always there to reassure her and back her up. And I can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, wishing I could be that for her too.
“Scarlet, I really hate to bring this shit up,” Xander says, his tone shifting to something more serious.
Scarlet turns to him, her brows knitting together in concern, while Theo and I exchange glances, both of us wondering where this is going.
Xander takes a deep breath, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I see your bruises are healing,” he says, motioning to his own cheek to indicate where Scarlet’s marks have faded. “But you need to keep them covered. If the media catches a glimpse, they’ll start digging into shit we don’t want to deal with. We can’t afford that kind of distraction right now.”
“I promise you they won’t see them,” Scarlet replies, her voice a little softer as she drops her head, clearly feeling a bit embarrassed. I catch Theo giving her hand another reassuring squeeze, silently backing her up.
Theo chimes in. “Nate will be watching the press conference from the hospital,” he says, his tone filled with warmth. “He’s proud of you, Scar. So am I. And so are Mom and Dad,” he adds, and I can see how much those words mean to her, like a lifeline pulling her back up.
There are those words again: Mom and Dad. It hit me earlier, back in the waiting room, when I saw Wes and Rose, Nate and Scarlet’s parents, walk into the hospital. Theo called them Mom and Dad like it was the most natural thing in the world. I’ve never been close enough to Theo to dig into his past, but from what he’s let slip, I know he had a rough upbringing. Still, I have no fucking clue how he ended up with Nate’s family or how he managed to fit into their lives so seamlessly that they see him as one of their own.
As soon as Wes walked into the room, striding straight to Theo giving him a fatherly pat on the back, and Rose wrapped him in a warm hug, speaking to him like she’d been his mom his whole life, a sharp stab of envy pierced through me. I just stood there, staring, trying to make sense of it all. How do they love him like that? Like he’s really theirs, as if he was born into their family? It doesn’t make any sense to me, especially when my own mother couldn’t give two flying fucks about me, and I’m her own flesh and blood. The contrast hits hard, twisting something deep inside me, making me question why I’ve never had that kind of connection, that unconditional love, from anyone.
“Kit has arranged a car to pick us up at eleven-thirty, so be ready,” Xander says, downing the last of his coffee.
"Is that it?" I ask, glancing at him to see if there’s any more bullshit he wants to throw my way.
"Yeah," he replies, and I can sense that if Scarlet wasn’t sitting here at this moment, he’d be telling me to pull my fucking head in.
I push back from the table, my mind spinning with all the shit I've got to handle—like the new album that’s just sitting there, waiting for me to dive into it. That’s where my focus should be, not on this fucking press conference. But I get it. If I don’t show up to introduce Scarlet and confirm the tour’s still on, those assholes will twist it into something ugly, making it look like I don’t want her there or that the band’s falling apart. I can’t let that happen.
Before we go out to greet the media, Kit takes us to one of the back rooms and explains our assigned seating arrangements at the table. I can already hear the soft murmur of voices and the excited buzz of anticipation coming from the other room.
“Now, Ace,” Kit says, placing herself in front of me. My gaze falls upon the tiny woman who has successfully intimidated grown men on countless tours over the years. Despite her small stature, she’s got an undeniable presence that demands respect. “No doubt those assholes out there will bring up the camera incident, so when they do, just redirect the conversation back to the tour. And don’t let them get under your skin.”
“So, in other words,” Theo adds with a sly smile, “don’t go full Ace on them.”
I shoot him a glare, my gaze piercing through his soul. I hate to admit it, but he’s not wrong. My reputation for going off-script isn’t exactly a secret, and if I’m not careful, this press conference could devolve into a shitshow. I can already see the headline, “Rockstar’s latest meltdown becomes media sensation.” I just need to keep my cool and not let those fuckheads bait me into saying something stupid.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to stay calm, though I’m already bracing for the inevitable. If Theo keeps pushing my buttons, it’s only a matter of time before I snap and end up thumping him before the day’s over. Since we got into that town car to come here, he hasn’t stopped with his annoying shit. The guy gets even more annoying when he’s nervous, like he believes cracking jokes will keep his anxiety in check. But if the dickhead keeps it up, he’s gonna have a lot more to worry about than just a press conference.
“Relax, man,” Xander says, his hand squeezing my shoulder in a half-assed attempt to comfort me. It’s meant to be reassuring, but all I feel is the weight of his expectations pressing down on me. “You’ve been through worse. Stick to the plan, and we’ll be outta here in no time.”
Yeah, right. As if I can just zone out while a bunch of vultures pick at our bones. I nod, but inside, I’m a whirlwind of emotions. It’s not just about introducing Scarlet; we’re also trying to salvage our reputation, and prove we’re more than the drama that constantly follows us. The tension is creeping back, and I can feel it building up inside me. I need a release, and punching Theo is starting to sound like a decent option to blow off some steam.
It’s funny. I finally understand why Xander always seemed like he wanted to rip someone’s head off when I pushed him into doing these press conferences every time he made headlines. The difference is, Xander never actually messed up like I did.
“Now, Scarlet,” Kit says, her tone all business-like and firm, “if they ask you anything uncomfortable out there-"
Scarlet swallows nervously, her anxiety starting to show. "What kind of things will they ask?"
“Any fucked-up thing they can dream up,” I reply.
The room goes dead quiet. All eyes, including Scarlet’s, fixate on me—I’ve definitely made things worse. Scarlet's anxiety is off the charts now. Theo’s sharp look makes it clear that I’ve made a mistake and should keep my fucking mouth shut. He turns back to Scarlet, his face softening as he tries to reassure her, his voice gentle and comforting. Xander and Kit stay quiet, their expressions speaking volumes—silent messages that cut deeper than anything they could’ve said aloud.
Theo tries to ease the tension. “It’ll be mostly about the music, Scar. You’ll see. Plus, you probably won’t get hit with too many questions since Xander’s doing most of the talking today—especially now that Ace has royally screwed up.” He throws me a sharp glare, making it obvious just how pissed he is with me.
Already fed up with being here, I let out a slow exhale, trying to chill the fuck out and keep it together.
“Relax,” Kit says to me, her voice soothing, like she’s trying to tame a wild animal. “You’ve done this a hundred times. Today’s just another day.” She then turns to face everyone, her confidence radiating. “Alright, you ready?” With that, Kit strides toward the door, and I can feel the tension crackling in the air, primed to explode as we brace ourselves for the chaos waiting outside.
Xander leads the way, with me bringing up the rear, while Scarlet and Theo stay close together like they’re in some kind of protective bubble.
When Xander gives the nod, Kit swings the door open, and we step through. The flash of cameras greets us like a sudden storm as we make our way toward the table, the noise in the room fading to an inaudible murmur. Kit follows us through the doorway and takes her place to the side, her gaze steady as she observes us settling into our seats.
I grab the bottle of water on the table, trying to quell the anxiety gnawing at my insides. Fuck, I’ve never felt this off at one of these events before. Usually, I’m the one steering the ship, radiating confidence and control, but today feels different. The air is thick and stifling. I scan the room, taking in the sea of reporters, their eyes glinting with eagerness, all waiting for one of us to slip up so they can spin it into a headline. The pressure builds, and I can feel their expectations weighing down on me, making it hard to breathe.
As the sound of papers rustling reaches my ears, I instinctively look down the table to find Xander preparing to begin. He glances up and flashes that polished media smile—the kind that’s all rehearsed and perfect, a stark contrast to the real Xander. It’s a far cry from the guy who’s been my anchor through everything. I’m thankful to be part of that inner circle; without him, the guys, Poppy, and Alex, I’d feel lost. They’re my family too, the ones who truly matter in my life.
Cameras flash, and reporters adjust their microphones, their eyes fixed on us, eager for the drama about to unfold. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a reminder of the stakes at play. This isn’t just about us; it’s about everything we’ve built together and how quickly it could all unravel under the world’s scrutiny.
Xander clears his throat, signaling the start of the press conference. “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for being here today. We have some important updates to share. As many of you are aware, our talented drummer, Nate Reynolds, was recently involved in a car accident. The good news is that he’s expected to make a full recovery, but he’ll need some time off to focus on healing. In the meantime, we’re thrilled to announce that Scarlet will be stepping in as our drummer for the tour.”
I notice that Xander deliberately omitted Scarlet’s surname, likely to dodge the comparisons she was worried about. The room zeroes in on him, hanging on every word as he spins the story Kit’s carefully crafted, shaping the narrative the way only he can.
The usual murmurs of the reporters fade into the background, and I scan the crowd, trying to read the energy, gauging how they might react to Scarlet stepping up. Will they accept her? Or will this only fuel the media’s hunger for more drama?
“Scarlet brings a tremendous level of talent and energy to the band,” Xander continues, his voice steady and commanding. “We’ve been blown away by her during rehearsals, and we’re confident she’ll keep delivering the high-energy performances our fans expect. I want to assure everyone that the tour is going ahead as scheduled. We’re thrilled to hit the road with Scarlet and can’t wait to see all our fans at the shows.”
As he speaks, I can see the shift in the room. The reporters are scribbling notes, their interest piqued. If only they can see what we see in Scarlet, maybe this could mark the beginning of something great for her.
When Xander finishes his statement, the room goes dead silent for a moment, like everyone is holding their breath. Then, just as the media realizes the briefing is over, the silence explodes into a barrage of questions from all directions.
“Can you give us more details about Nate’s condition?”
“How long will Nate be out of action?”
“Why was Scarlet chosen as Nate's replacement?
"What makes Scarlet the right fit for the band?”
“Scarlet, how do you feel about stepping into Nate’s role?”
“What do you think makes you the right choice for the band?”
“Scarlet, can you tell us more about your background?”
The intensity of their inquiries crashes over us like a tidal wave.
Scarlet’s face reveals her nerves as she steals a glance at Theo, who responds with a comforting nod. Xander, ever the pro, raises his hands to quiet the room, commanding attention with a practiced ease.
“One question at a time, alright? Raise your hands, and we’ll call on you in order.”
Hands shoot up everywhere, reporters desperate to get their questions answered. Xander scans the room, his eyes fixating on a reporter in the front row, their pen poised over a notepad.
"You in the front row," Xander says.
“Xander, can you give us more details about Nate’s condition and how long he’ll be out?” the guy asks, practically bouncing in his seat.
Xander takes a moment to gather himself, then responds, “Nate’s dealing with a few broken bones that require a significant amount of time to heal. It’s going to take a few months, but trust me, he’s determined to return as soon as he can, no matter what.” He flashes a confident smile, then moves on, pointing to another reporter. “Next question.”
“Why was Scarlet picked as the replacement? What makes her the right fit for the band?”
I can feel the tension in the air—everyone’s hanging on Xander’s every word, ready to catch whatever drama unfolds. It’s like watching a pack of sharks circling, just waiting for a drop of blood. And here we are, right in the middle of it all, exposed and vulnerable.
Xander glances at Scarlet before responding. “Scarlet is seriously talented and knows our band inside and out. She has extensive drumming experience and has truly impressed us. We’re confident she’s the perfect fit to keep the tour rolling smoothly and deliver the high-energy performances our fans expect,” he explains, his voice steady and authoritative.
His assurance is like a lifeline thrown to Scarlet, and I can see her visibly relax a bit. The way he champions her only reinforces what we’ve all seen in rehearsals—the passion and skill she brings. It’s a calculated move, positioning her not just as a replacement but as an integral part of our journey forward.
He then nods to another reporter, signaling for the next question.
A middle-aged reporter turns his gaze toward Scarlet, and I watch her shift awkwardly in her seat, clearly feeling the weight of the moment.
“This one’s for you, Scarlet,” he says, the anticipation in the room palpable. “Stepping in for a drummer who has such a major impact on the band, how do you plan to maintain his style and energy while you’re only here for the tour?”
The question hangs in the air, a heavy challenge aimed right at her, and I see the flicker of nerves cross her face. She hesitates for a moment, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for the right words. I can practically feel her nerves radiating off her, but I know she’s stronger than she appears. She’ll get through this. Leaning forward, she speaks into the microphone.
“I have plenty of experience with his style,” Scarlet responds, her voice growing steadier as she gains confidence. “My goal is to maintain the band’s sound and energy throughout the tour. I understand there will be comparisons, and I’m ready for that, but my focus is on delivering the best performance possible for the fans.”
Before she can settle back into her seat, another reporter jumps in. “You mentioned your experience with his style. Can you elaborate on your background and how you’re connected to him?”
Scarlet hesitates for a moment, her brow furrowing as she carefully considers her response. She finally chooses to be upfront. “Actually, he’s my brother,” she admits, a hint of pride creeping into her voice. “I’ve learned a lot from him over the years.”
A buzz of disbelief fills the room, and another reporter exclaims, “Wait a minute, you’re saying you’re Nate's sister?”
“Let me jump in here,” Xander interjects. “Yes, Scarlet is Nate’s sister. She possesses the talent and style that align perfectly with the band. We’re confident she’s the right choice. Now, who has the next question?”
I can see Scarlet relax slightly at Xander's reassurance, and it’s a reminder of how much this team has her back.
“Ace, have you taken any steps to address the situation with the paparazzi after the camera incident?”
My stomach clenches with unease as the question lingers in the air. “No comment,” I reply, shifting uncomfortably in my chair. I had a feeling this shit would come up sooner or later, and it’s just as awkward as I expected.
“Next,” Xander jumps in, cutting off any further questions on that topic and pointing to another reporter.
“Xander, with the new album dropping soon, what can fans expect in terms of sound and direction compared to your previous work?”
Xander leans forward in his chair, speaking into the mic. “With the new album dropping soon, fans can expect us to return to our original sound while incorporating some new elements. Now that we’re under our own label, we’ve really focused on recapturing what made our music special from the start. It’s going to be a great mix of familiar vibes and new energy.” He gestures toward the back of the room, signaling for another question.
“Ace, following that incident where you smashed the camera, how are you dealing with the aftermath, and have you reached out to apologize?”
I shoot a glare at the asshole, my patience fraying. All these idiots care about is stirring up gossip. Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on the table. “Listen, we’re here to talk about the new album and our new drummer, so let’s focus on that.”
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. Xander gestures for another question, clearly eager to steer us away from this bullshit.
“Scarlet, is it because you’re Nate’s sister that you got this role?”
I glance over and catch the hurt flicker across Scarlet’s face. No wonder she hates this shit; they don’t see her talent; they only see her as Nate’s sister.
“What kind of fucking question is that?” I snap, my tone biting and unforgiving as I glare at the jerk who dared to ask her that.
Everyone turns to look at me, including the three band members beside me, and a murmur ripples through the crowd. The atmosphere shifts, thick with tension.
“This conference is over,” Xander declares, his tone leaving no room for argument as he stands and collects his papers from the table. He shoots me a pointed, disapproving glare, clearly signaling that I’ve completely fucked up.
Pushing their chairs back, Scarlet and Theo follow closely behind Xander as he heads out of the room. I get up and fall in line behind them, feeling the intensity rise as the assholes in the crowd shout questions, their desperation evident in their attempts to provoke me. I ignore every single one of them, my eyes locked on the door, just wanting to escape this chaos.
Kit slams the door shut, ending the onslaught of blinding flashes and deafening shouts.
Xander swiftly turns towards me, his eyes filled with a fiery frustration. “What the fuck, Ace?” he snaps, stepping in close, his anger unmistakable.
“What? It was a fucked-up question, and you know it,” I shoot back,.
“They always have fucked-up questions.” Xander’s gaze narrows, piercing through me as if he’s trying to read my mind. “Back when we were with the old label, you’d do anything to make sure we stayed out of the headlines. Now that we’re out on our own, it’s like you’re just constantly fucking up. What the hell is going on with you, man?”