Zenon's Game Chapter 279

Maybe that's why he never liked Candace; because he knew the skeletons would come out of his closet. Because he knew the pain in her family was a similar one to ours. We're all broken here.

I did judge him. I called him washed up because he can't keep up anymore. And I know it's selfish, but deep down I've buried a thought I never dared to say. I'm ashamed of it, but I can't deny it's there:

Gratitude. I'm grateful he chose to live with me, my sister and my mother. He had a choice and he chose us.

I could've been Jake.

"F*ck," I cursed and slammed my fist against the marble surface.

He really f*cked us all up.

~Candace's POV~

I walked up the steps in the Albert house, feeling like an unwanted visitor. Maybe I should use the bathroom and leave. I've caused enough trouble here as it is.

I passed by Jake's room and saw the door slightly ajar. I stopped beside it. I don't know why I felt the urge to go in, but Jake was the only person here who could really understand me in this moment. And I understood him.

I knocked and leaned on the door, pushing it open wider.

"Sorry!" I exclaimed, apologizing for what I just walked in on.

I apologized for staring while still staring. I didn't know whether to look away or run away. But instead, I just stared. I wasn't able to stop staring. Stop, Candace. I physically couldn't move my head. Maybe I just close my eyes then?

"Candace," Jake said, sitting on the floor and watching my internal dilemma play out, "it's OK."

"Is it though?" I asked, taking a step backward.

I've never been inside his bedroom before, but I didn't expect to see this. I was staring at the shattered wooden pieces and strings of his broken guitar all over the floor.

And there was Jake, shirtless. His tattoos inked down his arm, and his-

"Did someone break into your house too?" I asked, trying to concentrate on the broken guitar pieces.

"No," Jake said, reaching over to grab a shirt, "The only intruder in this house is me."

He said it so casually. A sad reminder of how he felt every day since he first arrived here.

I watched his body stretch over as he grabbed the shirt and pulled it over his chest. I guess Zenon isn't the only one who works out in this house.

I sat down on the floor opposite him, with all the broken pieces between us. This felt like such a metaphor for our reality, right now.

"Why did you do this?" I asked him, "You love your guitar."

He stretched his hand out and started to pick up the broken pieces. "I regret it now. I was angry."

"It's OK. You don't have to tell me," I said, sitting upright to start helping him clean the broken pieces. I was fine to sit in silence. Sometimes, it's comforting to just be present.

"I snapped this morning," Jake stopped cleaning and sighed, "You know, no one interfered or criticized my music when I was playing in my bedroom. But the moment I had this record deal, people felt entitled to judge. You want to be famous... you think you're cool... you can't play for sh*t... you're never going to make it. Music was my one escape, and that was taken away from me."

"You're going to make it," I said with so much conviction. Jake was so talented, if only he could see it.

He shook his head, "You have the minority opinion there."

"You have a music deal, don't you? That's so hard to come by. Minority opinions can make a difference."

"The label doesn't like anything I write," he sighed, "They gave me a deadline to come up with something 'better' or they'll give me their own songs. The contract I signed gives them control over my image. They can turn my style into pop, which is what Zenon always said I was going to do. I hate it when that b*stard's right."

I vaguely remember Zenon mentioning something about Justin Bieber.

"What's wrong with pop?"

"Nothing, but it's not me and it's not my music."

I guess music couldn't be his escape from reality anymore if it came with real life pressures now.

"When's that deadline?" I asked.

Maybe now is not the right time to remind him about the lyrics I sent him, but didn't he use any of them?

"Deadline's passed."

I didn't know what to say. I thought the record label was a dream come true; a potential 'happy ever after' for Jake. I didn't realize he was struggling with it.

"So what?" I shrugged, and scooped some of the broken guitar pieces into his trash, "What's the big deal anyway? If this label doesn't want you, you go back to singing in your bedroom. You don't need this moment to define your entire life. It's a great opportunity, sure, but that's all it is."

Jake sat back, "That's still a lot, Candace. That... and my mom.... and this f*cked up house."

"Hey," I reached out to touch his shoulder, "You need to graduate high school. There's a whole world out there that we don't see right now, but we can make it out. Everything else is just... a cherry on top."

We all show up to school with such different problems. No one really knows what's going on with anyone else, because we don't even know what's going on with ourselves.

Lucky are those who have friends to lean on and family to support them.

Optimism.

And maybe a little spark of spirit to give me... well, spirit.