Page 85 of Sixty Days Of Summer

"Ace Roberts is a name millions around the world recognize, not only as the guitarist and founding member of Broken Oasis, the biggest band on the planet, but also as the man who has recently dominated headlines for a very different reason. With their latest album hitting number one worldwide, Broken Oasis continues to take over the music scene, but Ace has found himself in the spotlight for reasons that go beyond his music. Many of you have seen the footage—Ace stepping out of his car, visibly frustrated, grabbing a paparazzi’s camera, and throwing it to the ground when they refused to move out of the way. It was a moment of anger that sparked widespread debate. Adding to the controversy, Ace's mother, Gloria Fletcher, recently gave an eye-opening account of what life was like with her son, describing it as ‘living with a ticking time bomb,’ which has led to many difficult questions about the pressures and challenges behind his rockstar persona. Tonight, for the first time on television, Ace Roberts sits down with us to tell his side ofthe story. Joining him is his sister, Daisy, to provide her own perspective on the man behind the headlines and what it’s really like to grow up alongside one of music’s most iconic figures.” He turns his head to look over at me. “Ace, Daisy, welcome, and thank you for being here.”

I force myself to meet Jerry’s gaze, but I can’t resist glancing back at my mother one last time. The way she sits there, so damn confident, just pisses me off. Her husband sits next to her, silent and smug, like he’s got a front-row seat to a fucking train wreck.

“Well first of all why did you decide to go public,” he says, his tone oozing with that slick, rehearsed charm.

Is this asshole for fucking real. His people have been hounding Kit, day in and day out for this interview. I take a deep breath, ignoring what I really want to say to this fucker, and keep my tone casual.

“I want to set the record straight.”

"Have you seen the footage of you throwing that camera?" Jerry’s voice is sharp.

I clench my jaw and force myself to nod. "Yeah, I’ve seen it. I’m not proud of how I acted that day. I—"

He doesn’t let me finish, his voice barrelling right over mine. "There’s been a lot of talk lately, especially concerning your mother, Ace. I think it’s only fair we address some of those rumors head-on, don’t you?”

My pulse quickens, and I feel all eyes in the room turn toward me, waiting.

Daisy’s hand slips under the desk and finds mine, her fingers gripping tight, a lifeline in the middle of this storm. I focus on that small connection, trying to ground myself as the weight of the moment presses down hard.

Across from me, my mother leans back in her chair, that same damn smile plastered on her face—like she’s already won, like she’s waiting for the cracks to show.

“Ace, your mother has made some serious accusations about you being a violent and abusive person. Can you tell us your side of the story?”

I take a deep breath, fighting to keep my hands steady even though every nerve in my body is screaming. “These allegations are completely unfounded,” I begin, my tone more controlled as I push through the anxiety. “My mother’s claims are nothing but a desperate attempt to cash in on my success. She’s always had her own issues, and now she’s trying to use a mistake I’m ashamed of—the camera I threw—as a way to turn that narrative against me. I shouldn’t have done it, I know that. But it wasn’t out of violence, it was out of everything piling up—Nate’s accident, the tour, the pressure. I snapped in a moment of stress, not in violence or to hurt anyone.”

My eyes lock onto Jerry’s, daring him to challenge the truth in my words. The studio lights burn against my skin, making everything feel more intense, more suffocating. I wait for him to interrupt me but he doesn’t so I continue. “Throughout my childhood, my mother had her own problems with drug abuse. I’ve never been abusive or violent to her or anyone for that matter. Not once.” I pause, the words choking in my throat because I know what I have to say next will tear open old wounds. “The truth is… I endured the abuse—cruel, relentless abuse—from the men she brought home. And she never cared enough to protect me. Or my sister, Daisy, for that matter.” I swallow hard, forcing down the lump in my throat. “Now, she’s seen an opportunity—a platform—to twist the narrative, to turn my pain into her payday. And that’s what this is. It’s a quick money grab, nothing more.”

The words hang heavy in the air, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Ace, Daisy,” Jerry says, his eyes flicking between the two of us, “I just want to play a little clip.” He glances off to the side, signaling someone.

My eyes follow his, and a screen flickers to life. A second later, my mother’s face appears, and I know it’s from her interview. Her voice echoes through the studio. “Even Ace’s father and his sister Daisy left, because they had to get out of the house—it was too toxic.”

The clip ends, and the room is silent for a beat, before Jerry’s voice fills the space. “Daisy, what do you think about that statement? What’s your perspective on these accusations?”

Daisy stiffens beside me, and I can see her struggling to hold it together. “Well, our childhood was far from normal,” she begins, her voice steady but strained. “It’s true—our mother was a drug addict, and the men she brought home were abusive.”

Jerry, of course, cuts in before she can say more. “How long did you put up with this abuse?” His tone is clinical, detached, like we’re nothing but just another story.

Daisy swallows hard, her grip tightening around my hand. “I remember being the one to look after Ace when he was just a baby—”

“Where was his father?” Jerry interrupts again, leaning forward with that annoying glint in his eyes.

“He was never around,” Daisy says, her voice firm. “He left when Ace was only a year old.”

Jerry seizes on that immediately, a hint of triumph in his voice. “Let me get this straight—so Ace’s father didn’t leave because of these so-called violent outbursts?”

“No,” she says sharply. “He left because he didn’t want the responsibility. Not because of anything Ace did, and not because of any ‘toxic environment’ my mother claims.”

The weight of her words hangs in the air, and for the first time in this whole mess, I feel like we’re finally pushing back.

“Ace was just a baby,” Daisy continues. “None of what she’s saying has any truth to it. Like Ace already stated, it’s just a desperate attempt to cash in on his fame.” Her gaze shifts toward our mother, a fierce intensity in her eyes. “And that’s all she’s doing now. She never cared about us, never bothered to protect us from what the guys she brought home did.”

Jerry raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “But your mother claims you left because you couldn’t stand it there due to Ace’s violent behavior?” He glances briefly at my mother before redirecting his focus to Daisy.

Daisy lets out a bitter laugh that echoes in the tense air. “Yeah, I suppose she would say that, given the kind of stories she’s been spinning.” Her expression hardens as she presses on, her voice steady yet layered with emotion. “The truth is, I had to leave because of the men who tried to come into my room. It was a nightmare, and it broke my heart to leave Ace behind, for him to face that cruelty all alone.” She turns to me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s my biggest regret—that I left him there to endure all of that by himself. I wish I could’ve done more to protect him.”

Jerry’s gaze shifts back to my mother, his expression scrutinizing. “Gloria, we’ve heard Ace and Daisy’s side of the story. Can you clarify the specific incidents they’re referring to? The men you would bring home. The conditions in which your children were living? Daisy raising Ace when she was just a child herself?”

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