Chapter Eight
Nico
N ico began swearing under his breath when Jace walked out of the room, then got louder. “What the fuck is wrong with him? He’s putting the band at risk. He knows how important these gigs are for us. He’s so damn immature.”
“He’s upset, Nico,” Sammie said. “This is his hometown. Lots of shit went down here. He’s a walking wounded boy right now. He needs your love.”
“He’s messed up right now. Straighten him out before Black Rock,” Mark said.
“Let’s look for him,” Sammie suggested.
“You two rest for tonight. I’ll find his stupid ass.” Nico left the hotel in search of Jace. He checked into a nearby coffee shop, but unfortunately, he didn’t see him anywhere. As he looked around, his eyes landed on a lively bar, neon lights beckoning. Of course, he’d find a bar to drink his anger away. Hopefully, Jace wouldn’t be too wasted to play and sing tonight .
Nico’s heart pounded as he pushed through the swinging doors of Henry’s Bar. The dim, smoky atmosphere was a stark contrast to the bright, sterile hallways of their hotel. He scanned the crowd, his eyes finally settling on Jace, seated at the end of the bar, engaged in conversation with a beer in his hand. At least he wasn’t smoking. Despite California’s ban on smoking in public buildings, this bar still allowed patrons to light up. Nico despised the acrid smell of smoke, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
As Nico approached, he couldn’t help but notice the dark bruise on Jace’s jawline. His stomach churned. What could have caused such an injury?
“Jace, we need to go,” Nico said. “The gig’s tonight.”
Jace glanced up, startled. “Yeah, I know. Just finishing up this conversation.”
Nico watched as Jace said goodbye to his friend and followed him out of the bar. As they walked back to the hotel, Nico couldn’t shake a feeling of dread. He had to know who had hurt Jace and why.
“Jace, what happened to your face?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jace hesitated, his eyes darting away. “It’s nothing. Just a small accident.”
Nico wasn’t convinced. “I can see it wasn’t an accident. Tell me what the hell happened.”
Jace sighed, his shoulders slumping. “My dad…he punched me.”
Nico’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did you visit your dad?”
“No, he found me in a coffee shop.”
“What? Why would he do that?”
Jace shrugged. “Just a disagreement. ”
Nico’s anger flared. “A disagreement? That’s not a disagreement, Jace. That’s abuse.” In the old days, Nico would have made sure his father never touched him again. His desire for revenge hadn’t disappeared, but he had forced his behavior to change. He would not be that man anymore. He was better than that.
Jace looked away, avoiding Nico’s gaze. “I know.”
Nico took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “You need to get some rest before the gig tonight.”
As he guided Jace back to their hotel room, Nico’s mind raced with thoughts of Jace’s safety, imagining how his jackass father had again damaged his well-being. A weight of anger and sadness settled heavily in his heart, the anguish of knowing Jace had endured a harrowing ordeal without him there to provide protection. He had upset Jace so much that he stormed out of the hotel room. He should have had more patience with him. Maybe Sammie was right, he needed to love him.
As soon as they entered the room, Sammie jumped out of bed and raced towards Jace. “What happened? Did you and Nico have a fight?”
“No. He wouldn’t hit me. My father punched me.”
Mark walked over to check out Jace’s jaw. “Damn, that’s why Nico told us to stick together.”
“I know. I didn’t listen. I got what I deserved. I never want to come back here again.”
“You didn’t deserve that. No one touches my Jace,” Nico growled. “I’m pissed I upset you so that you left. My job is to protect you. I fucked up.”
“I wasn’t pissed at you so much as I was at my situation here. I don’t want any more Bakersfield gigs. I’m so done here.”
“How did your old man find you?” Mark asked.
“Hell, if I know. It’s no secret where we’re staying. He could have had someone watch for me.”
“Did he just punch you for nothing?” Sammie asked.
“No, he told me to get out of Bakersfield. And a ton of other shit I didn’t want to hear in front of all the people in the coffee shop.”
“You know he’s nuts,” Sammie said. “You did the right thing when you left home.”
“Jace is right. We shouldn’t have accepted this gig. I knew there might be issues, but I was hoping to avoid shit like this.” Nico inched closer to Jace. “Let’s rest for an hour, then we’ll get ready. We’ll order something light to eat in here.”
They returned to bed.
“Come closer, Jace.” Nico embraced Jace, feeling the warmth and weight of his body against his own. “You and I need to have a talk about us.”
“What about us?”
“Just clear the air about how things are right now, and how they might be.” Nico pressed his lips against Jace’s, feeling the warmth and softness of their touch.
“I want you near me like this,” Jace said.
“I know. We’ll have our talk alone about it soon. Let’s rest.”
Nico stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the colorful turban on his head. His fingers, adorned with rings, skillfully fastened the last of his bracelets. The room buzzed with the energy of pre-show excitement. Jace, already dressed in his leather skintight jeans and a midriff see-through top, was tying a bandana in his hair. His boots, like everyone else’s, were ready for the stage.
Sammie, as usual, was the last to finish getting ready. He meticulously applied his makeup, his hot pink jeans and sequined top catching the light with every movement. Nico watched as Sammie leaned closer to the mirror, carefully drawing a perfect line of eyeliner. The room was filled with the scent of hairspray and the sound of laughter.
“Hold still, Jace,” Sammie said, turning to apply eyeliner to him. Jace stood patiently, his eyes half-closed as Sammie worked his magic. Mark, dressed entirely in black, waited his turn.
“You’re a perfectionist, Sammie,” Mark teased, earning a playful glare from Sammie.
“Someone has to make sure you all look good,” Sammie said, finishing Jace’s eyeliner and moving on to Mark. The friendly banter continued, easing any pre-show nerves.
Nico felt a swell of pride as he looked at his bandmates. They were more than just a band; they were family. And tonight, they were ready to set the stage on fire.
When they were done, they jumped into the limo outside waiting for them. Jace wanted a shot, but Nico shook his head in disapproval.
“Hey, there’s my high school,” Jace pointed out.
“Were you an honor student?” Sammie asked.
“Nope. I barely made my way out of there.”
“Why is that?” Nico asked.
“Smoking too much weed and partying more than I should.”
“Figures,” Nico said.
“Were you a scholar, Nico?” Jace asked .
“Of course! I went to college.” Nico waved his ring hand towards Jace. “Saint John’s University.”
“I remember. You said it was a Catholic college,” Mark said.
Nico nodded.
Upon arriving at the club, they unloaded their instruments. Jace, however, made a beeline for the bar. Nico watched as Jace downed two shots of whiskey in quick succession. When he saw Jace with a third shot in his hand, Nico intervened. He took the glass from Jace and gently but firmly led him back to the stage area where they needed to set up.
They busied themselves with their tasks. Nico adjusted the drum kit, making sure everything was in place. Mark tuned his bass, his fingers deftly moving over the strings. Sammie set up his keyboard and checked the sound levels. Nico’s eyes occasionally darted towards Jace, who was now chatting animatedly with some old high school friends who had shown up.
Jace, with another drink in hand, laughed and reminisced with his friends, his voice carrying over the hum of the club. Nico felt a pang of concern. He knew how much this gig meant to Jace, to all the bands, and he wanted nothing to jeopardize it.
“Nico, come on, just one more drink,” Jace pleaded when Nico approached him again.
“Jace, we need to focus. We’re here to play, not to party,” Nico replied, trying to keep his voice calm.
Jace’s expression shifted, a mix of frustration and defiance. “I’m fine, Nico. It’s just a couple of drinks.”
Nico sighed, his patience wearing thin. “That’s your third. We need you at your best. Let’s just get through the set, okay?”
Jace glared at him for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. “Fine,” he muttered, setting his drink down .
Nico placed a hand on Jace’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Thanks, man. Let’s do this.”
Together, they returned to the stage, the tension between them easing as they focused on the music. The club was filling up, and the energy in the room was charged. Nico knew that once they started playing, everything else would fade away, and it would just be about the music.
Nico felt the energy of the club course through his veins as Sacred Fire took the stage. The club was a sprawling, smoky venue that pulsed with anticipation and a raw, gritty energy. This was Jace’s hometown, and the crowd was electric. For someone who had so many terrible memories here, it was impossible to tell that from the audience’s response to Jace.
Nico sat behind his drum kit, his heart pounding in sync with the beat he was about to unleash. As the first notes of their opening song filled the air, the crowd erupted into a frenzy. The energy was electric, and he could feel it coursing through his veins.
Jace leaped across the stage, his voice soaring above the music. The audience’s cheers grew louder, a cacophony of excitement and admiration. “Jace! Jace! Jace!” they chanted, their voices blending into a powerful chorus that filled the venue.
Jace danced around his bandmates, his flirtatious movements fluid and infectious. He and Mark shared the vocals seamlessly, their harmonies weaving together perfectly. Mark’s guitar riffs added a raw edge to the performance, while Sammie’s keyboard melodies provided a rich, atmospheric backdrop.
Nico’s eyes darted between his bandmates and the crowd. He saw people jumping, their bodies moving in time with the music. Some were dancing wildly, lost in the rhythm, while others sang along, their faces lit up with joy .
“Jace! You’re amazing!” someone shouted from the front row, their voice barely audible over the music.
“Go, Sacred Fire!” another fan yelled, waving a homemade sign with the band’s name scrawled across it.
Nico couldn’t help but smile. Despite the recent tension between him and Jace, moments like these reminded him why they did this. The music, the connection with the audience, the sheer exhilaration of performing—it was all worth it.
As the song reached its climax, Jace and Mark’s voices melded into a powerful crescendo. The crowd’s energy peaked, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world was singing along with them. Nico’s drumming intensified, driving the song to its explosive finish.
When the final note rang out, the audience erupted into applause and cheers. Nico glanced at Jace, who was beaming with pride. This was his hometown, and the love from the crowd was palpable.
“Thank you, Bakersfield!” Jace shouted into the microphone, his voice filled with emotion. “You guys are incredible!”
The crowd roared in response, and Nico knew this was just the beginning of an unforgettable gig.
Nico was so proud of Jace, singing and dancing. As usual, he was full of energy, as if nothing mattered once at the microphone. His gorgeous eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and nostalgia. He strummed the last chord, and the crowd erupted into a thunderous roar. Nico’s heart raced as he joined in, his sticks pounding out a relentless beat. Mark’s guitar riffs soared above the din, and Sammie’s keyboard added an intricate melodic layer.
The band played two sets, each song more intense than the last. The crowd was a blur of bodies, swaying and jumping to the music. Nico could feel the energy radiating from them, feeding into his own performance. As the final notes faded, the audience erupted into a deafening cheer.
Jace’s name echoed through the club, chanted by a crowd of adoring fans. They were here to show their support. Nico grinned, a sense of pride and satisfaction washing over him. They had done it. They had rocked Bakersfield.