God, she looked good. Nate could barely tear his eyes away from her. He watched as she closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the music, his music. It made his heart clench that it was his music that had put that look on her face. They had written songs together in the past, but she had always been the driving force. This time he was the proactive one and seeing how it affected her did all sorts of strange things to him. It made him think about things that he’d never thought of with Stevie before, like how she would look coming apart in his arms.

He shifted and swallowed, looking away from her to hopefully stave off an embarrassing physical reaction to where his brain had gone. They’d never had that kind of relationship. He’d never seen her as someone he’d want to sleep with. She was Stevie, his friend, the other half of Jacks & Nash. But looking at her now, he was seeing her in a whole different light.

Stevie was gorgeous. Her honey blonde hair fell in soft waves around her face, her lips plump and shiny with pale pink gloss. Her wide eyes were framed by long lashes and they sparkled blue like a summer sky. She’d always been on the slim side, but when she’d flung herself into his arms, he’d become aware of her soft curves and plush breasts. Had she always looked like that? He couldn’t remember and was embarrassed to admit he’d never really taken much notice of her body before, but his body was sure taking note of her now.

In an attempt to get his mind off what it would be like to peel her out of those skinny jeans she was currently wearing, he took in the other members of her band. The two other women looked almost enough like each other to be twins, but he knew they weren’t. The brother was a serious guy and Nate had yet to see him smile, but the guy knew music. He knew that the four of them had been working with Derek as studio musicians for a while now and he made a mental note to find out what albums and artists they’d worked with. He’d listened to their album and was impressed, but he’d like to know what other work they’d done. He knew what Stevie had been doing. Derek had kept him up to date on her career, but the Court siblings were unknown to him.

The music ended and he waited, nervously. These guys may not be famous in their own right yet, but they were veterans of the industry. He wanted them to like it, he wanted Stevie to like it.

Stevie slowly blinked her eyes open and smiled at him. A genuine, heartfelt smile. It took his breath away.

“Nathaniel Nash,” she whispered with a shake of her head, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Derek laughed his big booming laugh and Nate felt relief course through him like warm water in his veins. Stevie liked it and really that’s all he’d ever cared about. When he’d walked away from her, he’d lost his way and now, sitting here in the studio with her, he’d finally felt like he’d found it again. It should have always been the two of them and he was an idiot to think otherwise.

“What do you think?” he directed this question to Jace. He wanted to win the guy over and he had no idea why it was so important to him.

Jace nodded slowly, his eyes focussed inward. “It’s got potential,” he said.

“Jace!” Vanessa screeched, slapping his arm. “It’s fucking fantastic Nate,” she said turning to him.

He finally let a smile break across his face. He’d listened to the songs so many times that they had almost lost the magic and he worried that he was really a no-talent hack masquerading as a rock star. Seeing the genuine, real time reactions of fellow musicians, though, it gave him some sort of validation. Maybe this album was as good as he hoped it was. Maybe he wasn’t washed up after all.

“Nate,” Stevie said softly, drawing his eyes to her once again. “It’s really good—” she stopped and shook her head. “It’s brilliant.”

“Okay,” he breathe., “Okay. So, do you guys want to work with me?”

He watched the four of them glance at each other, a silent communication that he wasn’t privy to.

“Yes,” Jace said, “let’s do this.”

There was cheering and laughter and excited conversation, but it all seemed to happen around him, around him and Stevie. They just looked at each other, the days, weeks, months, and years of separation falling between them like a seemingly untraversable canyon. They needed to talk and clear the air. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn’t know where to start or how to explain to her just how sorry he was. He didn’t know how to ask for forgiveness, but he needed it. More than anything, he needed her to forgive him for his stupidity.

Derek clapped him on the back, breaking the moment, shattering the bubble that had been around him.

“When do you want to start?”

“As soon as possible,” Nate answered turning to Stevie and the Courts. “When are you guys available?”

They discussed timetables and schedules and booked the studio time they would need. Marci talked contracts and legalese and he just nodded, willing to agree to just about anything to have the opportunity to work with Stevie again. They shook hands, they hugged, they slapped backs and grinned at each other and then it was just him and Stevie and all he wanted to do was to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He wanted to feel her body against his and taste her lips and hear the sweet sounds she would make as he worshipped her body. But before he could do any of that, she had to forgive him for being an asshat.

Nate couldn’t sleep that night. Derek had cleaned up the audio on Stevie’s YouTube video and he was playing it on repeat, letting her voice settle into his bones. He was restless. Something was moving under his skin, not letting him find any peace. He paced his apartment with only a single dimmed downlight as a light source. There was something bubbling up inside him, something big and powerful, something that had been elusive these last few months.

He sat on the couch and picked up his battered acoustic, checking the tuning before strumming a few chords. He hadn’t played the old instrument since Rocksteady had swept him up in their music machine. But tonight, after hearing Stevie’s voice, it had called to him. He let the music come, let it permeate in his veins before letting it flow from his fingers. The melody took shape with very little coaxing on his part. It became like a live thing, a living, breathing entity and it found its own voice. He chased after it, barely keeping up as it told the story and finally he captured it.

He wrote song after song, words and lyrics pouring out of him. He wrote about pain and hurt, about love and loss, about the euphoria of standing on the brink of greatness and of his fears of it all being fleeting. The Pandora’s Box of emotions inside him spilled open and he bled on the paper, writing the words in his own blood, metaphorically speaking.

He wasn’t aware of the time passing, he just knew he had to get it all out. Hearing Stevie sing had lit the fuse and he just held on for the ride. It wasn’t until the sun blinded him that he looked up and realized he had been working all night. He felt empty, but so goddamned pleased with himself that he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. He shot off a quick text to Derek to tell him he’d be running late to the studio and then he crawled into his bed and let sleep claim him.

When he strode into the studio later that day, there was a bounce in his step and an eagerness in his spirit. He was ready to make a goddamned smash of a record. He wanted to shout it from the roof tops, watch out world, here comes Nate Nash.

Derek looked up at him expectantly and Nate beamed him a shit eating grin.

“Why are you shooting fucking rainbows and glitter?” Derek asked, leaning back in his chair and looking Nate over.

Nate didn’t say anything, just plugged his phone in and pressed play. The acoustic guitar filled the room and then his voice as he sang. It was rough, but the bones were there and Derek knew it. He felt that buzzing under his skin that he got after performing and his leg bounced with adrenalin and energy. He was on to something, he knew it.

“Fuck,” Derek said, when he’d listened through the songs. “You pull these out of your ass last night?”

“It was amazing,” Nate said. “It poured out of me like god damned liquid gold.”

“I’m impressed Nash,” he said. “I was starting to doubt that you had another album in you.”

Nate rubbed his hands on his thighs, they were sweaty and he needed… something. He needed to play, he needed his Gibson in his hands and he needed to hear the notes blare from the speakers.

“I was getting a bit worried myself,” he said and then took a breath. “So which one should we start on?”

“I say we start at the top. We can get your track laid down and then have another listen through, maybe get Mikey in to do some drums. And we’ll take it from there.”

Nate jumped up and grabbed a bottle of water from the bar fridge in the corner. He unscrewed the top and gulped down half of it.

“Okay,” he said, “Let’s do this.”

Nate stalked into the isolation booth and picked up his Gibson. He settled on a stool and slipped some headphones over his ears. He tuned the guitar, strumming a few chords, getting in the zone before he nodded to Derek through the glass.

He started playing the first song, building on what he had put down last night. He’d worried that it might have been a freak, but as he played and the music flowed, he knew that he had tapped into something. The song was good - great even - and it just got better each time he played it.

When he listened to the playback a few hours later, he felt the goosebumps and had the feeling he was standing on the very edge of something great. This album was going to be a fucking smash, he could feel it in his bones. This was his moment, his turning point, and there was no going back from here.