The sunlight filtered through the curtains as Nero stretched lazily on the couch, the soft sounds of waves crashing against the beach in the background. It was the morning after his performance at the bar, and the energy from the night still buzzed through him. He had been on a high ever since stepping off that stage, and the memory of the crowd's applause played over and over in his head.
He glanced over at Charlie, who was sitting at the kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee. Nero knew that look—it was the look of someone who'd been proud, but would never actually say the words. Charlie raised his coffee mug in a mock toast.
"Feeling like a rockstar yet?" Charlie asked, smirking.
Nero grinned. "You saw how they were looking at me. Maybe I am."
Charlie chuckled, setting his cup down. "Don't get too cocky. One decent performance and you're ready to take on the world?"
"More than decent," Nero corrected. "And you're just jealous they weren't looking at you like that."
"Yeah, well," Charlie leaned back, giving him a playful look, "when you've been around as long as I have, you learn that it's not all about the spotlight. But, man, you handled it like a pro. Even with the extra attention." He waggled his eyebrows, clearly referencing the women from the night before.
Nero laughed. "Hey, what can I say? The ladies love a musician."
Charlie shook his head, grinning. "You're definitely getting more like me every day. Not sure if that's a good thing or a disaster waiting to happen."
Nero shrugged. "A bit of both, probably."
The morning calm was soon disrupted by the familiar sound of Jake barreling into the room, still half-asleep but clearly on a mission.
"Nero!" Jake shouted, running over to him. "I heard you were awesome last night! Can you show me how you did it?"
Nero sat up, amused. "How I did what?"
"Y'know, how you got everyone to like you!" Jake replied, his eyes wide with admiration. "Everyone says you're cool now. I wanna be cool too."
Charlie snorted from the kitchen, but Nero leaned forward, beckoning Jake closer. "First rule of being cool, kid—don't try too hard. You gotta act like you don't care."
Jake frowned, clearly confused. "But… I care a lot."
Nero chuckled. "Yeah, that's your problem. Just chill, alright? You don't need to do anything crazy. Just be yourself."
Jake blinked, not quite grasping the concept. "Be myself? What if myself isn't cool?"
"Then you fake it 'til you make it," Nero said with a grin, ruffling Jake's hair. "That's what Charlie does."
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I don't fake anything. It's all natural charm."
"Sure it is," Nero shot back playfully. "But seriously, Jake, you don't need to try so hard. People will like you once you stop worrying about what they think."
Jake nodded, though it was clear he still had questions. Nero couldn't help but feel like a bit of a big brother to him, even though the advice he was giving was mostly playful. Still, Jake was looking up to him, and that felt good.
As Nero and Jake laughed over their conversation, Alan entered the room, looking slightly frazzled. He paused, taking in the scene of Charlie lounging with his coffee and Nero casually teasing Jake. Alan's discomfort was palpable, and Nero could sense it from across the room.
"Morning, Alan," Nero said, trying to keep things light.
"Morning," Alan replied, though his tone was more distracted. His eyes darted between Nero and Jake. "So, uh… you two seem to be getting along."
Nero shrugged. "Yeah, Jake's not so bad. He's picking up some good habits."
Alan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Good habits?"
"Confidence," Nero said easily. "Kid's learning how to chill out. Right, Jake?"
Jake nodded eagerly. "Yeah, Nero's teaching me how to be cool."
Alan's expression shifted into one of concern. "Teaching you? Uh… Nero, maybe we should talk."
Nero raised an eyebrow but followed Alan into the hallway, curious about what was coming next. Once they were out of earshot, Alan's nervous energy spilled over.
"I'm… I'm worried, Nero," Alan began, fidgeting. "I know Charlie's influence is rubbing off on you, and I'm trying to be okay with that, but… I don't want you teaching Jake the wrong things."
Nero frowned. "The wrong things?"
"Look, you've been great with him," Alan continued quickly, sensing Nero's confusion. "But confidence isn't everything. Jake needs to focus on being responsible, on staying grounded. I don't want him getting carried away."
Nero leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "So, what—you're saying I'm a bad influence?"
Alan shook his head, flustered. "No, no, I'm not saying that! I'm just saying… you and Charlie, you're both so… relaxed. And Jake, well, he needs structure. I'm just worried he's going to start thinking that charm and confidence are all that matter."
Nero sighed, seeing where this was going. "Alan, I'm not turning Jake into some mini-Charlie. We're just messing around. The kid's fine."
Alan bit his lip, clearly still worried. "I know, I know. But just… be careful, alright?"
Nero nodded, but inside, he felt the tension. He understood that Alan was trying to protect Jake, but it was frustrating. Every time Nero found his groove, there was always someone telling him to hold back.
Later that day, Nero sat at the piano, his fingers lightly touching the keys, the upbeat energy from the morning slowly fading. He glanced out the window at the ocean, lost in thought. The confidence he showed everyone else—the charm, the easy-going attitude—felt a little thinner today. There was a weight pressing down on him, the same weight that had always been there, lurking beneath the surface.
He started playing a soft melody, letting the music flow without thinking. It was always easier to express himself through music. Words were harder.
As the notes drifted through the house, Charlie walked by, pausing to listen. He didn't say anything, but Nero could feel his presence behind him.
"You've got a lot on your mind, don't you?" Charlie finally said.
Nero didn't stop playing, but he nodded. "Yeah, I guess."
"Alan giving you the responsible parent talk?"
Nero laughed softly. "Something like that."
Charlie leaned against the doorway. "Look, I know Alan means well, but don't let him hold you back. You've got talent, kid. Real talent. You're not just some kid hanging out at my house anymore. You've got a future in this."
Nero kept playing, but Charlie's words hit him. He'd heard it before—that he had potential—but the weight of it felt different now. The more confident he became, the more people expected from him.
"Yeah," Nero muttered, his fingers slowing on the keys. "I just don't want to mess it up."
Charlie shook his head. "You're not going to mess anything up. You've got this. But you've gotta let go of all that other stuff. Do what you're good at."
Nero nodded, but there was a lingering doubt in his mind. Could he really balance everything—the confidence, the charm, the expectations, and the weight of his father's absence?
For now, though, the music was enough to drown it all out.