The Stage Is Yours

The neon sign of Malibu Notes, a cozy music bar by the beach, flickered gently in the fading light as Charlie and Nero strolled inside. The place was familiar—a laid-back spot where locals gathered for drinks, live performances, and the occasional open mic night. Nero had performed here before, but it had been a while. Tonight, though, he felt a little different. He wasn't just tagging along with Charlie anymore. He was starting to make a name for himself.

"Good to be back," Charlie said, his eyes scanning the room. "Just what we needed—a break from the chaos at home."

Nero nodded, his gaze shifting over to the stage, where a local band was wrapping up their set. The place was lively but comfortable. A mix of young and old, with the sound of music and light chatter filling the air. It was the kind of place where he felt at home—especially when he had a piano under his fingers.

As they made their way to the bar, Mark, the owner, spotted them and waved.

"Charlie! Nero! Haven't seen you guys in a bit," Mark called, wiping down the counter. "What brings you in tonight? Need a break from the Harper circus?"

Charlie grinned. "Something like that."

Mark's gaze shifted to Nero. "Hey, kid. You still got those magic fingers, or have you been slacking off?"

Nero smirked, leaning against the counter. "Guess you'll have to see for yourself."

Mark chuckled. "Tell you what—my next act just canceled. You wanna jump up there, give the crowd something to talk about?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, glancing at Nero. "What do you say, kid? Feel like reminding these people why they can't get enough of you?"

Nero didn't hesitate. He could feel that familiar buzz of excitement building inside him. "I'm in."

Mark clapped him on the back. "Good man. You've got a couple of minutes. I'll set it up."

As Mark walked off to announce Nero's impromptu set, Charlie leaned back on the barstool, a satisfied smile on his face. "I like this new confident version of you."

Nero grinned. "Yeah, well, I learned from the best."

Charlie chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't go giving me too much credit. You've got something all your own, kid. Go show 'em."

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Nero stepped onto the small stage, feeling the eyes of the crowd on him. The lights were low, the air buzzing with the energy of a Friday night. He slid onto the piano bench, his fingers brushing the keys. A few familiar faces in the crowd whispered to one another—they remembered him from his previous performances. He wasn't just the kid hanging out with Charlie Harper anymore. He was Nero.

The mic crackled to life as he adjusted it, leaning in slightly. "Hey, everyone. I'm Nero. I've got something a little different for you tonight."

He smiled as the crowd quieted, a few heads turning his way with interest. This was his moment. The nerves were there, but they didn't own him. He thrived on this now—the thrill of being on stage, of commanding the room. With one last glance at Charlie, who gave him a subtle nod of encouragement, he began.

The familiar opening chords of "Something Just Like This song by The Chainsmokers & Coldplay" flowed from the piano, soft and steady at first. Then, with growing confidence, Nero's voice joined in.

♪ "I've been reading books of old / The legends and the myths..." ♪

A couple near the front exchanged a glance, nodding to the beat. One of the bartenders paused mid-pour, listening closely. The song was drawing them in, like Nero knew it would.

♪ "Achilles and his gold, Hercules and his gifts..." ♪

Nero's fingers danced across the keys, his voice lifting with the melody. Someone in the back whistled, and a few others joined in, clapping to the rhythm.

♪ "But she said, where'd you wanna go? / How much you wanna risk?" ♪

"Nice voice," a woman at one of the tables said, leaning toward her friend. "He's good."

Her friend nodded, eyes on Nero. "Yeah, but he's more than that. The kid's got something."

♪ "I'm not looking for somebody / With some superhuman gifts..." ♪

The tempo picked up, and Nero could feel the crowd starting to sway with the song. People were tapping their feet, bobbing their heads. He had them.

The chorus came in stronger this time, his fingers moving fluidly over the piano keys, feeding off the energy in the room.

♪ "Some superhero, some fairytale bliss / Just something I can turn to, somebody I can kiss..." ♪

"Damn, that's catchy," someone muttered from a nearby table. Nero smiled inwardly, catching snippets of the reactions around him as he continued.

♪ "Oh, I want something just like this..." ♪

A group of women by the bar swayed along, mouthing the lyrics, clearly impressed by the mix of youth and confidence in his performance. Nero noticed the smiles, the way they were locked in. He was owning it.

As he stepped off the stage, making his way back to the bar, a few women nearby smiled at him—older than him, but not by much. One of them, a brunette with a confident smirk, waved him over.

"You were amazing," she said, leaning forward slightly. "You've got some serious talent."

Nero flashed a grin, feeling the surge of confidence from the performance still coursing through him. "Thanks. I aim to please."

The brunette tilted her head. "What else do you aim for?"

Nero chuckled, playing it cool. "Depends on what's being offered."

Charlie, watching from a few feet away, raised an eyebrow at the exchange but said nothing, letting Nero handle it. This was Nero's moment, and Charlie knew it. His little protégé was holding his own.

Another woman at the table chimed in, "You must perform here a lot."

"Enough to keep them coming back," Nero quipped, leaning casually against the bar. He wasn't trying too hard—just enough to keep the conversation going, to show that he could handle the attention. It was new territory, but he liked it.

Charlie finally stepped in, giving Nero a playful nudge. "Alright, heartbreaker, don't forget your fan club back home."

Nero grinned, glancing over at Charlie. "What can I say? They love the music."

Charlie laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure it's all about the music."

Later that night, as the crowd began to thin out, Nero and Charlie sat at the bar, nursing sodas. The buzz of the night still lingered in the air, and Nero couldn't help but feel proud of how the night had turned out.

"Not bad, kid," Charlie said, raising his glass to Nero. "You're getting better every time."

Nero shrugged, but the smile on his face gave him away. "Thanks. It felt good."

Mark, the bar owner, walked over, clapping Nero on the shoulder. "You've got a real gift, kid. Anytime you want the stage, just say the word."

Nero nodded, feeling the warmth of the compliment. "Will do."

As they made their way out of the bar and back toward home, the cool night air hit them, and for the first time in days, Nero felt completely at ease. The chaos waiting for them at home didn't seem so overwhelming anymore. He could handle it.

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Author here:

I love how the new Nero is, how he has picked up traits from Charlie, and has now become a little playboy himself. Feel free to leave feedback in the comments and drop some stones for extra chapters!