forward, but Jane Ann’s hand on my chest stops me. “Cool it, Ace. This is neither the time nor place.” She turns to the rest of the guys. “You three, go wait side stage.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out through pursed lips as the guys walk away from me. Never did I imagine a music career being this full of utter bullshit. Not only do I constantly have Jane Ann up my ass about doing what’s best for Wicked White, but the label and the band love to jump on me every chance they get.
I fucking hate it.
I wish I’d never signed that deal.
I wish I still played to small crowds and lived in the land of obscurity.
Jane Ann whips her head back in my direction. “What in the hell were you thinking telling them you’re canceling shows? You don’t have that kind of authority.”
“But you just said that I could go after the show tonight,” I argue. “Why wouldn’t I tell them I’ll be gone for a couple days?”
She shakes her head. “I never said that you could go. Do you know how much money we’ll lose if you don’t show up at those next two shows? You aren’t going anywhere.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Jane Ann begins shoving me in the direction of the stage the moment Wicked White’s name is announced. “Now get out there.”
Flabbergasted and almost in a dreamlike state, I allow her to keep pushing me until I’ve got one foot on the stage. Tyler, Luke, and JJ begin playing the first song in our set list, and I stare at Jane Ann.
This woman isn’t my friend.
I turn and take in the faces of each of my bandmates one by one. None of them are my friends. They could give a shit less about me. I just told them my mother is sick and they all blow me off like my feelings don’t matter.
I thread my fingers into my bronze hair as it hits me hard. I hate these people just as much as they hate me, and I can’t be around them for one more second. I don’t care what I’m losing. It’s nothing compared with my sanity and the self-worth I’ll lose by sticking around and continuing to be used.
To make sure they get my message above the deafening music that’s playing around the outdoor stage, I raise both of my hands to the guys and flip them the middle finger before I storm off stage.
ACE
I stare at Mom lying in the hospital bed before me. Her hair has grayed even more than the last time I saw her, and the wrinkles around her eyes have deepened. I pull the chair up next to her and take a seat before holding her hand, careful not to disturb any of the tubes hooked to the IV in her vein. Her hand is cold, much colder than what it should feel like. There’s a white plastic tube coming from her mouth, and it’s hooked to a machine that forces air into her lungs.
Fuck. She doesn’t look good. The fact that she’s not woken up since they found her unresponsive yesterday scares the shit out of me. I don’t really remember my real mother. The state of Ohio took me away from her when I was six, and I bounced from home to home until I was twelve. No one wanted to adopt a little kid riddled with the damage a neglectful mother inflicted. It wasn’t until the state placed me with Sarah that I found a permanent home. She was the only person who took the time to get to know me. The only one who helped me overcome the coldness of the world by showing me that love did exist, because she loved me. She was the only one.
I wish I could help her—that I could take her pain away somehow like she did mine.
I thread my fingers into my hair and shove it out of my face. I’ve never liked my hair long, but Jane Ann insists that the long, golden-brown locks, along with my beard, are my signature look. She told me to never change it.
A graying-haired nurse with a few fine lines around her eyes walks into the room and checks all the machines, and then she turns her gaze on me. She frowns, and the sadness touches her eyes, making her pity for me evident.
“Are you her son?” she asks.
I nod, wearing that label proudly.