STILL MORNINGS
MARCUS
I wakeafter a few hours of restless sleep, my mind already straining to find a solution to the current Jax problem. Normally, I’m the level-headed one, the fixer, the neutral party, but right now, I’m angry and out of answers.
Fucking Jax.
I stew in the silence of the bus, mentally cursing my friend and bandmate with every word I can think of until some of the tension eases from my head. Then I focus, trying to figure out what to do next. I want to stay angry, but it’s impossible to hold onto it.
Jax has always been complicated—a textbook tortured artist. With his dark hair perpetually tousled, stormy eyes that hide a lifetime of pain, and a voice that can pull emotions out of stone, he’s magnetic on stage. Everyone loves him: the crowd, the press, even the label—well, they loved him until the last time he lost control.
But offstage… Offstage Jax is a man haunted by his past, his insecurities, and the relentless pressure to live up to the legend he’s becoming.
I remember when I first met him, sitting brooding in the corner of a recording studio, his guitar clutched like a lifeline. He was enigmatic, intense, a raw force I couldn’t ignore. The label brought us together, and I thought we’d make incredible music together.
And we did—until that darkness he carried started to take over.
What began as a few nights of hard drinking spiraled into wild, unrestrained benders. Then came the night we got a call about Jax driving a van full of strangers into a tree, blacked out with no memory of how he got there or whose car he was in.
My phone buzzes, pulling me from my thoughts. It’s a message from Harris.Any luck?
Sighing, I type back.Not yet. We came back to sleep a few hours, but we’re heading out again soon.
I hold my phone a moment, waiting for another message, but in typical Harris fashion, he doesn’t bother with a reply. Consolation isn’t his style. He asks what he needs to know, nothing more.
Checking the time on my phone, I realize we’ve only been back at the bus for a few hours. The search for Jax feels endless, and the strain on all of us is becoming impossible to ignore. Despite knowing another long day awaits, I can’t sleep any longer with my thoughts racing.
With a heavy sigh, I push the worry about Jax and the restless night aside, focusing on what I can control for now.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and pad quietly into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise so Lily can sleep a bit longer. Starting a pot of coffee,I open the fridge and gather ingredients for omelets, just like she made for us that first morning on the bus.
Working in the silence feels oddly comforting. Each slice of vegetables and sizzle of bacon grounds me in the stillness of the morning. By the time I’m whisking the eggs, I feel more at peace than I have in days.
When Lily joins me, looking sleep-rumpled and gorgeous, I’m just plating the first omelet. I pull her into my chest, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She wraps her arms around my waist, molding her body to mine.
“Good morning,” I murmur, my voice scratchy from non-use.
“Good morning,” she mumbles, burrowing deeper into my embrace, her arms wrapping tighter around me.
I tighten my hold, wanting to give her all the comfort I can. She’s hurting for more reasons than the rest of us. Jax’s absence has devastated her, but I know she also feels like a disappointment to the label. Keeping us together and on track was her job, and she’s blaming herself for losing Jax. None of this is her fault, but convincing her of that might be near impossible. I know nothing I say will even register until we get Jax back.
“I made breakfast,” I say, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze. Her blue eyes are clear and striking, like looking into the endless ocean. Whatever fallout we face with the label, it’ll have been worth it to have her with us. She is going to stay with us. No matter what. I’ll make sure of it.
She offers a soft smile. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Neither am I,” I admit, “but we need to eat. We can’t let ourselves fall apart while we’re looking for him.”
This feels like my mantra. Take care of ourselves. FindJax. I will repeat it until it isn’t necessary because Jax is back with us. I refuse to consider the alternative.
“Okay,” Lily says with a nod, her gaze steady.
I hold her a second longer, reluctant to let go. She laughs, a soft sound that feels foreign after the last few days, but it forces a smile to my lips. We stand there, just looking at each other, until the noise of a curtain sliding further down the bus breaks the moment.
Reluctantly, I release her, allowing her to settle into her seat. She slides into the booth, and I place the omelet in front of her. She waits until I sit beside her, scooting closer until our thighs press together, before picking up her fork and taking her first bite.
“Mm, this is delicious,” she murmurs around her food. “You can take over chef duties.”
I laugh again, feeling unexpectedly lighter as I start on my food, too. Before long, Enzo and Dylan join us, and it’s almost like everything is normal again. Within minutes, Dylan is telling a terrible joke, Enzo grumbling under his breath, and Lily… Lily is laughing.
