Chapter Nineteen

Jace

J ace sat in the living room, hunched over his notebook, penning the lyrics to their next song. The house was peaceful, with the faint aroma of Sammie’s baking drifting in from the kitchen. Nico had left to meet his cousin, leaving Jace alone with his thoughts—and with Mark.

As he entered the room, Mark’s face revealed a restrained anger. Jace barely looked up, too absorbed in his writing. But he felt the tension in the air thicken. The silence was pressing down on him. The memory of the fight with Mark replayed in his mind, each harsh word echoing painfully. He had always known Mark was jealous, but it hadn’t seemed like a real threat until now. When Nico and he became a couple, Jace had hoped Mark would come around, that he would accept their relationship as just another part of their lives. But Mark’s jealousy had festered, turning into something darker and more destructive.

Jace clenched his fists, feeling the sting of Mark’s verbal barbs. It was more than just jealousy—it was resentment. Mark had taken every opportunity to belittle him in front of Nico, trying to make him look bad. And when that didn’t work, he resorted to outright abuse. The constant tension wore on Jace, fraying his nerves and making him question everything.

He couldn’t shake the fear gnawing at his heart. What if Mark succeeded? What if he drove a wedge between him and Nico? Jace knew how much Nico valued the band’s unity. If Mark kept pushing, would Nico question their relationship, too? The thought made Jace’s stomach twist into knots.

He didn’t want to lose Nico. Not now, not ever. But the fear was there, a constant, nagging presence. He loved Nico with everything he had, but Mark’s relentless attacks made it hard to hold on to that love without feeling the strain. Jace knew they needed to fix this, to mend the rift before it tore them apart.

As Jace sat there, lost in his thoughts, he resolved to talk to Nico about it. They needed to confront this issue together as a couple. They couldn’t let Mark’s jealousy ruin what they had worked so hard to build. But for now, the fear lingered, a shadow over his heart.

“Got something to say?” Jace asked, his voice casual, but his senses alert.

Mark scoffed. “Yeah, I do. You and Nico. Always together, like you own this place.”

Jace straightened, feeling the jab. “What’s your problem, Mark?”

Mark took a step closer, his voice rising. “My problem? You’re my problem. You and Nico. You think you’re so special because you’re together. But what about the rest of us, huh? What about me?”

Jace stood up, his fists clenching. “This isn’t about you, Mark. This is about the band. We’re all in this together.”

“Together?” Mark sneered. “It sure doesn’t feel like it. Feels like you’re leaving us behind. Leaving me behind.”

The argument escalated quickly. Words flew, harsh and cutting. Mark’s jealousy boiled over, and he lunged at Jace, fists swinging. Jace barely had time to react. They crashed into the coffee table, sending papers and pens flying. Jace’s red guitar, caught in the chaos, splintered under the weight of their struggle.

Fists landed, and pain flared. Jace tried to hold back, but Mark’s rage fueled his own. They grappled, each trying to gain the upper hand. The living room, once a sanctuary, turned into a battleground.

“Stop it!” Jace yelled, pushing Mark off him. “We’re supposed to be a team!”

Mark backed away, chest heaving, eyes wild with frustration. “Then act like it! Stop making everything about you and Nico!”

Jace’s breath came in ragged gasps. “You think I wanted this? To fight with my bandmate? Grow up, Mark. We all have our issues, but we need to deal with them like adults.”

When Nico entered the room to the two men fighting, he rushed over and separated them, holding them apart with a firm grip. “What the hell are you two arguing about?” he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and concern.

As Jace’s eyes scanned the room, they landed on his prized guitar lying on the floor, all the strings broken. It was an expensive guitar, one that Jace cherished deeply. Seeing the damage, Jace’s anger quickly turned to despair. He sank to the floor, cradling the broken instrument in his hands, tears streaming down his face.

Nico turned to Mark, his expression stern. “Go upstairs and stay away from Jace,” he ordered. Mark, still fuming, reluctantly obeyed, stomping up the stairs and out of sight .

Once Mark was gone, Nico knelt beside Jace, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, we’ll get you a new one,” he whispered. “I promise.”

“I want this one. It’s my good luck guitar. My grandfather bought it for me. Do you think we can fix it before Black Rock City?”

“Let me look at it.”

Jace carefully passed the guitar to Nico, who grasped it in his hands. He examined it meticulously, seeming to note every intricate detail.

“We can replace the broken strings. Let’s repair the strings first.”

Jace opened his bag and pulled out the extra strings.

Jace sat in the dimly lit room, staring at the broken strings of his beloved red guitar. It had been his grandfather’s, a precious heirloom passed down through generations. His hands trembled as he tried to replace the strings, but nerves got the better of him.

“Here, let me do it,” Nico said gently, taking the guitar from Jace’s hands. “We’ll have it back in shape in no time.”

Jace watched Nico work, fingers deftly replacing the broken strings with practiced ease. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the shared understanding of what this guitar meant to him. When Nico finished, he handed it back, a reassuring smile on his face.

Just as Jace was about to express his gratitude, Mark stormed down the stairs, suitcase in one hand and guitar case in the other. His face was a mask of anger and frustration.

“I’m done,” Mark declared, his voice echoing through the cabin. “I’m quitting the band.”

Jace’s heart sank as he saw the Uber waiting outside. “Mark, wait—” he started, but Nico cut him off.

“Mark, we’ve got a gig in Black Rock City next week. You can’t leave us now,” Nico pleaded .

Mark’s eyes blazed with fury. “I don’t care. I’m sick of this. Sick of you favoring Jace, like he’s the only one who matters. And you,” he turned to Jace, his voice dripping with venom, “you take all the credit for the band. What about the rest of us?”

Sammie appeared in the doorway with a tray of cupcakes in his hands. “Mark, please. Stay until after the gig. We need you.”

But Mark was resolved. “No. I’m done. You’re on your own.”

Jace watched helplessly as Mark stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed through the cabin, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Nico stood there, frustration etched on his face, while Sammie looked as if he might cry.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Nico said as he left the cabin right behind Mark.

Jace clutched the newly strung guitar, feeling a mix of guilt and sorrow. The band felt incomplete, fractured by the argument that had driven Mark away. As the Uber drove off, Jace couldn’t shake the feeling that things would never be the same.