One year ago

It was almost eleven on a Friday night, yet we were still at the office trying to figure out how data from our client was breached using their previous security system. I made myself comfortable on the couch in my office while Bart, the head of IT, was on my desk, crouched behind the computer. An empty pizza box lay open on the coffee table in front of me, and there was another unopened box underneath it. Empty soda cans and bottles of half-consumed energy drinks stood beside the boxes.

I was in meetings the whole day before I sat at my office at five and worked on the computer 'til around eight in the evening then Jaxx called to tell me he finally got his friend to accept the work proposal he had been offering him ever since he was still in the States. He said the guy would be at the office by Monday. This was good news because we needed another experienced, computer-brained geek working for us, not just a pretty face with an astounding resumè.

"How's it going over there? Any leads how they altered the data?" I asked Bart while I replied to emails on my phone.

"Not sure. But have you seen this line over here? It looks suspicious," he stopped scrolling and guzzled the remaining soda, screwing the cap back on before placing the bottle back on the table. 

Bart was a few years older than Jaxx and me, but everybody thought he was just our friend from school because he was so childish and loved pranking people at the office. Right now, though, he looked ten years older because he was unshaven, his hair was curly and unruly, and his eye bags were the size of fortune cookies.

"God, forget I asked. I think I'm stuck on this couch," I groaned and covered my eyes with my forearm. I just sent the last email confirming that I received the new guy's resume as per my COO's insistence. I trusted Jaxx's judgment. So if Jacob Kingston came highly recommended for his experience and work ethic, who was I to disagree? Besides, he's already hired the guy.

"Get up and check this out, boss," he said mockingly. When I didn't move, he threw the empty Coke bottle at me.

"Ouch! For crying out loud, let me rest a while," I glared at him and returned to covering my eyes.

"For fuck's sake, get up and look at this! I don't want to continue working just so you can disagree to it tomorrow when I can get the answer from you right here, right now," he complained.

"Bart, you're the champion IT guy. I have full faith in you."

"Ace, you're the security analyst hotshot. This is your job, not mine! We didn't make their program, and all these firewalls and dead ends are pissing me off."

"Go around them, then! Surely you know how to do at least that," I scoffed.

"This is your job!" he griped.

Bart and I jumped in surprise when my phone suddenly rang, cutting through the bickering. When I picked up the call, loud music, guitars, and people shouting greeted me.

"Seb, what is it?"

"What is it? What do you mean 'what is it'? Where are you?" he shouted over the music.

"Oh shit. It's today. I'm still at the office. How much time do I have before we start?" I quickly got up, put on my shoes, stuffed my laptop and necktie in my bag while pressing the phone between my ear and shoulder. We still played in Camachile Sky occasionally, but it had been a while since the last time.

When Jaxx went to Wharton, he left quite a mess behind, precluding us from playing. Seb still wasn't confident with his percussion skills. I had to run the company alone physically. Chino was in law school. Val was busy with residency then, and she really wasn't interested in the band. 

And don't get me started with Cara. She brought us the most trouble, though admittedly, she was the one who had to go through a lot, too. And with her pregnancy and the almost miscarriage, well, life was piling the shit all that year. So, we decided to put music on hold and concentrate on being responsible adults.

"Get your lousy, saggy, workaholic ass over here!" he added a string of curses before hanging up because he had a filthy mouth.

"We need to leave. I totally forgot we were playing tonight," I announced to the other person in the room, but he was already putting his things away.

"Thank San Miguel, it's Friday!" he rejoiced, raising his hands.

♤

Guitar riffs and the sound of drums flowed out of the open entrance of the music club. The place was packed, and people spilled out of the doors, but this was not unusual for a Friday night. Smokers and posers were hanging outside with the fumes hovering over their heads like a bed of smog. Inside, we squeezed our way to the bar to quench our thirst for the intoxicating golden liquid.

"Two sub-zero Pale Pilsen's, please!" Bart ordered. When the bartender served the beer, I guzzled the near-freezing alcohol until my brain screamed at me. My eyes quickly shut as I put down my half-empty bottle and shook my head rapidly.

"Brain freeze," I explained to our amused bartender, Rachel. She chuckled and handed me a coaster for my drink. She was always a welcome sight no matter how often we saw each other. Her smile was contagious. She was mighty hot, too. Too bad Jaxx already called dibs on her years ago, so she's off-limits. Bro code and shit. Besides, wouldn't she feel weird sleeping with best friends?

"What took you so long?" Jaxx climbed on the stool next to me and threw me a half-annoyed look. Instead of answering, I rolled my eyes at him. He knew exactly what took me so long. I was at work. He sighed but didn't say anything more. He turned down the beer Rachel offered him with a smile and turned around to lean his back against the counter.

"We'll be up in a few minutes. You good?" he asked with less venom. I just nodded and took another swig. 

Ever since he came back, things have changed, and there was a palpable distance between us. I can't blame him, we've kept a life-changing secret from him at our friend's bidding, but he found out. He initially refused to talk to anyone of us, and up to now, it seems he isn't willing to trust us yet again. 

On the bright side, he's slowly forgiving us and has been trying to hang out with us more often, just like the old times. Before I could ask him anything, someone slung an arm around my neck, and I was roughly pulled backward, causing me to almost fall off the seat.

"Ace, you dog! It's been a long time! How have you been? Are you playing tonight?" I turned to see a burly man in his tight black shirt, distressed jeans, and boots. He was wearing a black baseball cap with a basketball team, and he still wore his dog tags.

"Brigs! How are you, man? You look, uh, huge?" I said tentatively because he was. He was almost twice his size from college when he gave me hell during reserve army training. I used to hate the guy, but after ROTC, we shared a lot of classes. It turned out he wasn't so bad after all. He continued to serve the country until he had a back injury.

"Yeah, that's what she said," he winked and nudged. Hearing that line made me laugh, not because it was so funny but because he has been using that line since college. Some things never change, and it was good somehow. "We should catch up soon."

"Damn right," I nodded in agreement. 

A few minutes later, we were on the stage, setting up. The frontman game face was up as I undid the upper buttons of my shirt. "How's everyone doing? Ready to welcome the summer?"

The crowd shouted different replies, most of which were in the affirmative. "You guys better start sobering up before going home."

"Take me home with you, Ace! I want your babies!" a drunken girl shouted, and the room erupted in laughter and howls. My heart raced at the thought. I wasn't planning on a hook-up tonight, but I was more than willing to accommodate her request. Intrigued as I was, searching for her in the sea of people proved futile.

"I'm sure I can help you with that, babe. But please keep your panties on until the end of the show, okay, babe?" I said jocosely as I strummed the first chords.

We rocked the house for an hour with Seb and me alternately singing. Bart took an army of fangirls to egg our chinky lawyer to sing, and just before our set ended, Chino did his debut. When he sang the first line, women across the room spun their heads to see the new vocalist. He had his eyes closed, which helped. Otherwise, I think he would have frozen if he saw his many admirers. He was always shy like that.

"Thank you for having us tonight!" I said, closing our final set. Using my hand to shield my eyes from the blinding lights, I searched the room for that girl. "Babe, where are you? Are you sober already?"

"No! But she's happily wasted more than ever because of you!" someone else answered on her behalf.

"I'm glad to have contributed to your friend's happiness, even if it wasn't giving her my children. Take care of her for me, yeah?" I requested. "Guys and girls, sober up before heading home or grab a taxi."

"Aw, that's sweet of you, Ace, all caring and shit," Seb teased through the mic.

"Better yet, book a GrabCar. I don't really care for your drunken asses crashing against a lamppost; that's on you. I just get paid to advertise," I joked. People were coming up to us, congratulating us as I hopped off the stage. They welcomed us back to the club after a long hiatus. That called for bottomless alcohol, so I headed straight to the bar.

We spent the rest of the night catching up with other musicians who also 'retired' to focus on adult responsibilities, meeting the new blood and younger breed of up-and-coming artists, and of course, drinking.

After one last fixing of whiskey, I suddenly felt so tired I wished I were already in bed. The last drink drained all adrenaline and energy out of my body.  I checked the time and decided it was indeed time to go home. I mentally and physically prepared myself for a horrible hangover as I slowly made my way out of the men's room. The floor was making waves, but I had to get to the bar to settle the bill and maybe ask someone to book me a taxi home. Everyone has been drinking, and I have no idea how wasted they were.

And because Miguel fucking Sebastian was the worst friend in the world, he stuck his dirty Chuck Taylors out to trip his inebriated friend. Perhaps he thought it was the best way to send him home, when in fact, it was the quickest way to send someone to the hospital. 

I stumbled over and hit my head on something sharp before ultimately landing on the cemented floor.

"Son of a bitch!" I yelled and slapped my hand to my head as I lay curled on the floor.

"What the fuck, Seb?" someone shouted.

"Migs, you asshole!" that was Chino reprimanding his idiotic friend. Seb's apology was drowned by objections and expletives from a lot of people. Our friends, I suppose, but I was not a hundred percent on that. Hot, viscid liquid trickled down to my palm, and my forehead started to sting. When I opened my eyes, blood covered my hand—a lot of blood that was presumably mine. 

Then again, I was not a hundred percent on that. I did not want to be a hundred percent sure, too.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why is there a lot of blood?" I panicked at the sight of my crimson-colored hand. 

The cut might have drained all the alcohol in my body together with the blood I lost because I was suddenly sober, though maybe a little anemic. Someone jerked me up to a sitting position as a piece of cloth was pressed against my forehead. I thought I would feel better seated, but instead, I felt dizzier and began seeing things. Black spots and stars were appearing and disappearing alternately. 

Rachel rushed from behind the counter while Jaxx was on the phone. Then there was a blonde in front of me, but I could not see her face as the black spots became bigger and did not disappear.

The last I remembered was hearing a gruff voice order for an ambulance, then I blacked out, but not before meeting a pair of the clearest, darkest, crystal blue eyes I've ever seen.

♤ ♡ ♧ ♢