Poker Night

It had been two days since the confrontation with Arthur, and things at the house had settled back into their usual, slightly chaotic rhythm. The house was quiet for now, but it wasn't the kind of peaceful silence that Nero enjoyed. Instead, it felt heavy, like the conversation with his dad still hung in the air, unresolved.

Nero sat at the piano, absentmindedly playing a soft melody, his fingers moving across the keys without much thought. His mind, as always, was elsewhere—on Arthur, on everything that had gone wrong between them, and on the things he wished would change but never did.

Sitting nearby on the couch, Charlie glanced up from his phone. He wasn't great with these heavy moments, and seeing Nero like this for days was starting to weigh on him. Normally, Charlie's solution to everything involved a cocktail or dodging the emotional mess altogether, but with Nero, it was different. The kid needed something else.

Charlie finally set his phone down, standing up and stretching like he was preparing for a major event. "Alright, enough with the mopey piano stuff. We need a change of pace, kid. I know just the thing to clear your head."

Nero raised an eyebrow, his hands pausing on the keys. "What do you mean?"

Charlie grinned, that mischievous spark lighting up his eyes. "Poker night. My buddy's hosting, and I'm bringing you along. Trust me, nothing helps you let go of stress like a little gambling and good pizza."

Nero blinked. "Poker? I don't know how to play poker."

Charlie waved a hand dismissively. "That's the beauty of it! Neither do half the guys there, but they act like pros. Besides, I'll teach you. It's easy. You just have to act like you know what you're doing—kinda like life."

Nero hesitated, unsure if this was Charlie's best idea, but the thought of doing something—anything—to get his mind off things was appealing. "Okay, fine. But I'm not betting any of my allowance."

Charlie chuckled, grabbing his keys. "Relax, I've got you covered. All you need to bring is your poker face. Let's go, kid."

Charlie's buddy, an old acquaintance named Eddie, lived in a beach house not far from Charlie's place. When they arrived, the house was already buzzing with a small group of guys gathered around a poker table in the middle of the living room. Empty pizza boxes and half-full beer bottles were scattered around, and the air smelled like a mix of pepperoni and questionable decision-making.

Eddie, a guy with a laid-back vibe and a Hawaiian shirt that looked two sizes too big, greeted them with open arms. "Charlie Harper, you rascal! And who's this mini-you?"

Charlie grinned, clapping Nero on the back. "This here's Nero. He's a quick learner, so you guys better watch your wallets tonight."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, giving Nero a once-over. "First-time player, huh? You're in good hands. We'll go easy on you."

Nero looked around, feeling a little out of place but trying to stay cool. The poker table looked intimidating, with chips stacked high and cards being shuffled with professional precision. He shot Charlie a nervous glance. "You sure about this?"

Charlie smirked, already grabbing a seat at the table. "Trust me. You'll be fine. Worst-case scenario, we eat all the pizza and call it a night."

They took their seats, and the game began. At first, Nero was cautious, keeping his bets small and following Charlie's lead. The other players, though friendly, had a competitive edge, and the game quickly became intense. But after a few rounds, Nero started getting the hang of it, even managing to bluff his way through a decent hand that had Eddie raising an eyebrow.

"You're catching on, kid," Charlie said, nodding approvingly as Nero raked in his first small pot of chips.

Nero shrugged, feeling a little more confident. "It's not so hard. It's just about reading people, right?"

Charlie grinned. "Exactly. Life's just one big poker game—everyone's bluffing, but the trick is to act like you've got a winning hand."

The game went on, filled with laughter, good-natured trash talk, and the occasional dramatic showdown where Charlie inevitably bet too much on a terrible hand, only to lose spectacularly. Nero, surprisingly, held his own, winning a few hands and even making Eddie mutter under his breath at one point.

By the time the game wrapped up, Nero had lost some chips but gained a lot of perspective. The weight he'd been carrying the past few days felt lighter, like the poker game had shaken off some of the stress.

As the night wound down and the players left, Eddie came over, clapping Nero on the shoulder. "Not bad for a first-timer. You might want to teach Charlie a thing or two about patience, though."

Charlie scoffed, standing up from the table with a stretch. "Patience is overrated. Besides, I like to keep things exciting."

Nero smiled, grabbing his jacket. "Thanks for letting me play. It was fun."

Eddie waved it off. "Anytime, kid. Just don't go pro and put us all to shame."

Later that night, back at the beach house, the familiar sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as Nero and Charlie walked through the door. Nero felt different—not fixed, not completely over what had happened with Arthur, but better. The poker game had been the distraction he needed, and being around Charlie and Eddie had reminded him that not everything had to be heavy.

Charlie plopped down on the couch, grabbing a leftover slice of pizza from the fridge. "You did good tonight, kid. I'm almost proud."

Nero laughed, sitting at the piano and playing a few lighthearted notes. "Almost?"

Charlie grinned, taking a bite of pizza. "Hey, I can't give you too much praise. You'll get a big head and start charging me for piano lessons."

Nero played a playful chord, mimicking an old game-show jingle. "How about we write a jingle for this place? 'Come to Charlie Harper's beach house—where pizza, poker, and poor life choices are included in the rent.'"

Charlie chuckled, tossing the pizza crust into the trash. "Not bad. We'll workshop it."

As Nero continued to play, the tension from the past few days melted away. He wasn't sure if things with Arthur would ever really get better, but moments like these—with Charlie and the makeshift family he'd found—made him realize that maybe, just maybe, he didn't need his dad to figure it all out. He had a support system right here, and that was more than enough.

"So," Charlie said, stretching out on the couch. "You ready for the next poker night? We'll have to work on your bluffing skills. You've got potential, but you need to perfect that 'I'm totally winning' face."

Nero smirked, playing a few more notes. "I'll work on it. But next time, I'm picking the pizza toppings."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Kid, you've got yourself a deal."

As the night wore on, Nero played quietly at the piano while Charlie dozed off on the couch, the house filled with a sense of peace. It wasn't perfect, and Nero still had a lot to figure out, but for now, that was okay.

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Author here: 

Well with that, the foundation for the fanfic is set. Starting with the next chapter, things will really kick off.

What did you think of it so far? What would you like to see in future chapters?