Page 54 of Filthy Rock Stars
“Adrian could act like a bully sometimes, even then, but it was like we were all outsiders, you know? We were the outcasts, and everyone else had the power, so it felt different.”
I sigh. I’m not sure why I’m telling him all this, but when Nico gives an encouraging nod, I keep going.
“The fighting got worse with my parents. I could barely sleep some nights, and our neighbors started calling the cops, which meant everyone in town knew our business. So we started the band. It was just an excuse to hang in Elle’s garage, but it quickly became obvious that we were actually good together. Like, fucking exceptional.” I can’t help but smile as those memories come back. “Everything suddenly made sense. None of the other shit mattered because forming the band was like winning the lottery. Local shows turned into mini-tours, agents started knocking, our fan base exploded online. I suddenly had a purpose, and even though Elle’s ego kept ballooning and Adrian got more money-obsessed, riches and fame and rock stardom were enough to distract me from the problems.”
The rest of it floats through my memory. Learning that my parents were finally divorcing on the day our first major studio album was released. Hearing our song in the wild for the first time and flipping out even though Adrian tried to force me to play it cool because we were in a mall and people could see us. The explosive fights that led to me quitting songwriting and taking a backseat role.
“I don’t know,” I conclude. “I probably should have told the band to fuck off years ago. I definitely should have taken a bigger stand against this stupid fucking rivalry. I wish I had an excuse for not doing that, Nico,” I say, forcing the truth out even though I’m ashamed of it. “But I don’t.”
Nico tightens his lips into a frown. “I’m sorry your parents were like that,” he says. “And that you felt alone growing up.”
That wasn’t the point of my story, but it’s what he hears.
“I’m not trying to make excuses,” I say.
“I know.” Nico scoots his stool a little closer to mine. “And I understand, too.”
I tense. “Your parents weren’t good to you?” I ask, hating the thought of him experiencing anything painful, although I know that’s ridiculous. Everyone does.
“It’s not that. They’re divorced, too, and we don’t have a ton of shared interests, but we don’t have a bad relationship either. We love each other. I call every week and I visit every year. I spend Rosh Hashanah with my mom, and in the spring, my dad and I take a road trip around Georgia to visit our cousins.”
My slight surprise must register on my face because he tilts his head to the side.
“What?”
“Sorry.” I swallow, embarrassed. “Just didn’t know you were Jewish.”
“On my mom’s side, and my dad’s family is Black, yeah. My family keeps plenty of holidays, but Rosh Hashanah is my mom’s favorite.”
“Cool.” I make an internal note to learn about the holiday so I don’t embarrass myself again.
I’m already struggling not to look like an asshole.
“I’m glad you get along with your family for the most part,” I offer.
“More or less. Even after the divorce when I was fourteen, they made sure that I got plenty of time with each half of the family.” He winces and shakes his head, then takes a sip of coffee, pushing something aside.
“What is it?” I ask.
“There was a flood the year before,” he says. “There’s never supposed to be floods where we lived in Georgia, but it happened. It destroyed the house, destroyed everything, and we didn’t have the right insurance.”
“Shit,” I interrupt. “That sucks, Nico.”
He pushes through, but I can see he’s still bothered. “Before, my life was pretty good. I had two best friends since we were kids, my parents generally got along, all good. But after that, it’s like we never recovered. We moved, and then my parents divorced, and we moved again and again, always because of some financial catastrophe. I felt lost until I met Smith, my ex.”
I arch an eyebrow. “That asshole who had you so upset the night we met?”
“That’s the one.” Nico sighs and looks at his coffee, then back at me. “He was my best friend and my boyfriend, and for a long time, being with him gave my life shape. I had to figure out a way to strike out my own, pay for college and make a career, and after everything had been so unsettled and stressful for years, starting my life with Smith felt safe. Like I could finally have the stability I wanted. Except that didn’t mean the relationship was good. That didn’t mean we were right for each other. He got colder and colder, more and more critical of me every year, but I just accepted that.”
I puff air out my nose. “He sounds like an asshole.”
Nico smiles sadly. “Yeah. He was.” He shakes his head. “My point is I understand feeling stuck in something that used to be good. Hell, it was the first thing you told me about yourself. You feel stuck in your life. You said the good stuff felt like a cage.”
“Sure. Problem is, my feelings are worth shit, as far as our problem goes. Because the life I’m stuck in poses a few major obstacles to us kicking it.”
Nico blinks, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Kicking it?”
I smile despite myself. “You know what I mean. Hell, I can’t stop thinking about fucking you again. But your cosmic destiny is with a legendary musician like Mare, and my whole sad history is tangled up with Forbidden Destiny. That rivalry is just getting worse by the day.”