Page 33 of Sixty Days Of Summer

“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?”

Chapter 12

Scarlet

It’s been a week since that press conference, and every damn day, that asshole’s question keeps replaying in my head like a broken record, making me question why I even agreed to do this. The moment the question left his mouth, a surge of anger hit me, and I had no clue how to even begin to respond. I wanted to lash out, and tell him to go to hell for treating me the way everyone else does when they learn who I am. But I couldn’t. That’s just not me.

Despite all the shit he’s dealing with, I’m glad Ace had the guts to call out that idiot, and his stupid question. I wish I could speak my mind like that, without constantly needing to wear amask in front of others. That’s what I really admire about Ace. He never holds back. No sugarcoating, no bullshit. He just tells it like it is, and maybe that’s something I need to learn.

Every day since then, I’ve been grinding away, immersing myself in the music, and committing to memory each song and its place in the setlist. The guys, especially Theo, have been remarkably patient and supportive. He’s always been there for me, supporting me through thick and thin. But no matter how hard I practice, that journalist’s words keep echoing in my head. What if I’m not good enough? What if they only gave me the gig because I’m Nate’s sister?

No, that can’t be it. They wouldn’t jeopardize everything by putting me in a position that could potentially ruin their shows. With a burning desire to prove my critics wrong, I push myself to the limit, practicing relentlessly until I reach my breaking point. I have to nail this—there’s no room for error, especially since the guys are relying on me.

On top of everything, I’m pissed that Ace is straight-up avoiding me. Every time the band gets together to run through the songs, he turns his back like I don’t even exist. When I ask questions, he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge me. It’s always Theo and Xander who step up and help. At first, I told myself he was just stressed, needing to focus on getting the album out. But it’s been four days since the album dropped, and nothing’s changed. He’s still ignoring me, acting like I’m invisible. What the hell is his problem?

On a brighter note, the album hit number one the day it dropped, and the guys were over the moon. That night, they headed to the hospital to celebrate with Nate. I wasn’t too keen on tagging along, thinking I’d let them enjoy their milestone without me. But Theo wasn’t having any of it and practically dragged me along. Even though Ace didn’t say a word to me all night, I could still feel his eyes on me. Every damn time I glancedin his direction, he’d quickly look away, like he hadn’t just been staring at me a second ago.

What the fuck is up with that? This hot-and-cold bullshit is driving me nuts. I know he sees me as nothing more than a casual fling, and yeah, it was awkward as hell after we hooked up, but come on. He can’t even manage two words now. Seriously, what the hell is that about?

Sitting here in my brother’s house, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness, as if the walls themselves are closing in on me. Theo’s off visiting Nate, and once again, I didn’t want to tag along and feel like a third wheel. I slump back on the couch, feeling the weight of the oppressive silence. Letting out a deep sigh, I yearn for someone to confide in, a girlfriend, anyone to talk to about the man who constantly consumes my thoughts, the man who’s been avoiding me like I don’t exist.

Last night, we had a big family dinner to say goodbye to Dad. Now that Nate is recovering, he’s going back to run his business, leaving Mom behind to assist Nate once he’s discharged from the hospital. As I sat across the table from Xander and Poppy, waiting for my meal, something hit me hard. Observing the way Xander's gaze lingers on Poppy, and the way she is his entire world, it made me yearn for the same—someone who supports me unconditionally, loving me for exactly who I am.

That envy sparked something deep inside me—a newfound determination. I’m done with Ace. No matter how much I crave him or how badly I want to feel his touch, I won’t allow myself to be treated like a casual fling anymore. I deserve better than that, and I’m not settling for being his plaything. Not anymore.

After dinner, we all went to visit Nate at the hospital, and that’s when I found out he’d gone behind my back and hired a mover to pack up all my stuff and put it in storage. He organized everything with my landlord, and the whole thing was donewithout me even knowing. As much as I love Nate, sometimes it feels like I have zero control over my life. When he told me, all I wanted to do was scream at him, but instead, I forced a smile to keep the peace. However, I did manage to tell him that it should’ve been my choice, not his.

The truth is, even though I’m pissed, part of me is relieved. The idea of going back to that place, and having to deal with Beck again...Well, it scares the shit out of me.

With everything weighing me down—the pressure of the tour and the uncertainty of the future—I ended up sleeping in this morning. I just couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. I could feel myself spiraling back into that dark place, and there was no way I was going to visit Nate like this.

When Theo walked into my room and flopped down beside me, I knew he could sense that something was off. He’s always been able to read my moods like a book. When he asked what was wrong, I tried to hide my emotions with a forced smile, but he could tell I was faking it. He pulled me in for a hug, the kind he always gives when he knows I’m struggling.

With Mom checking out of her hotel and moving into this house tonight, it’s time for me to get my shit together. Otherwise, she’ll start asking questions I’m not ready to answer. Mom has this uncanny ability to see right through me, and the last thing I want is for her to worry or pry into the depths of my thoughts. I just need to pull myself together and put on a brave face—at least for her sake. I can’t let her see just how much I’m struggling right now. It’s like I have to wear this mask of strength, even when I feel completely broken inside.

Once I finish showering and have a quick bite to eat, I make my way to the recording studio to hone my skills. With the tour kicking off in just three days, I need to go through the entire playlist, running every song through my head.

Making my way up the front steps of Ace’s magnificent home, I take a deep breath. I push open the door, my heart racing as I imagine the sight of him. But when I notice he’s not there, a wave of relief washes over me, and I let out a sigh. With everything I’m dealing with, I’m just not in the mood to face him today. I just want to immerse myself in the music.

Making my way toward the drums, I grab the folded paper with the entire setlist from my pocket. I put it down beside the drum kit, knowing it’ll be a handy backup if I need a quick reference, though I’m confident I can pull it off without looking at it. As I hold the drumsticks in my hands, I take a moment to center myself and let their familiar weight soothe my nerves. This is exactly where I belong, and I’m determined as ever to prove it.

With a deep breath, I dive into the first song, letting the rhythm take over and pushing all my doubts aside. Each beat feels like a step closer to showing I’m a drummer in my own right—someone who deserves to be here, not just because of my brother, but because I’ve got the talent and determination to back it up.

As I lose myself in the music, I transition smoothly from one song to the next. Each track builds my confidence, and I can feel myself hitting every beat exactly as it should be. By the time I reach the last song on the playlist, “Creep”—a cover the guys always perform—I allow myself to finally relax. I savor the soft, slow beat, taking a moment to catch my breath and appreciate the progress I’ve made.

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