Chapter 69: Lingering shadow

Jace woke up to the sound of soft knocking on his bedroom door. His head throbbed slightly, and his body felt unusually heavy, as though he had been carrying a weight all night. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together where he was. Then it hit him, the auditorium, the stage, the microphone in his hands... and the moment everything went black. A sigh left his lips as he sat up slowly. "I fainted." There was no denying it. The shame, the disappointment, and the frustration swirled inside him like a storm. The knocking came again, firmer this time. "Jace?" His father's deep voice carried through the door. "I'm awake," Jace called back, his voice hoarse. The door creaked open, and Joseph stepped inside. His sharp, observant gaze swept over his son before he walked toward the window, pulling the curtains open. Sunlight spilled into the room, making Jace squint. "You didn't come down for breakfast," Joseph stated, leaning against the wall. Jace shrugged. "Wasn't hungry." Joseph crossed his arms, studying him for a moment. "You fainted yesterday." Jace looked away. "I know." His father let out a slow breath. "You sure you're okay?" Jace forced a nod. "I'm fine." "Jace," his father said in that knowing tone, "you don't have to pretend with me." A lump formed in Jace's throat. He wanted to say something, anything, but no words came out. His father didn't push further. Instead, he patted Jace's shoulder firmly. "Take your time," Joseph said. "Just don't shut yourself off." Jace nodded, though he wasn't sure if he could follow that advice. Walking into school that morning felt like stepping into a battlefield. The moment he passed through the school gates, whispers erupted. "Did you hear? Jace fainted again." "Man, that guy has everything, looks, talent, but can't even stand on stage?" "Poor guy... must be tough for him." Jace clenched his jaw and kept walking. He was used to being talked about. He had always been the subject of rumors, whether it was about his face, his voice, or the mystery surrounding his personal life. He reached his locker, opening it with more force than necessary. "You look like you want to disappear," a familiar voice commented. Jace turned to see Dorah leaning against the lockers, arms crossed, watching him carefully. "That obvious?" he muttered. "Extremely," Jason added, appearing beside her. "But hey, at least you're standing." Maxwell patted Jace's shoulder with a grin. "We were actually debating whether we'd have to carry you home too." Ronald chuckled. "Imagine that. A grand exit, carried like a fallen hero." Jace sighed, shaking his head. "You guys are the worst." "Nope, we're just the best at making sure you don't drown in self pity," Jason smirked. Before Jace could reply, Miranda appeared, handing him a water bottle. "Drink," she ordered. Jace blinked. "What?" "You probably need it after all that drama yesterday," she said. Jace shook his head with a half-smile, taking the bottle. "You guys really won't let this go, will you?" "Nope," they all chorused. Despite himself, Jace felt some of the weight lift from his chest. Later in the day, Jace found himself standing outside Mr. Alfred's office. He had been asked to come, though he already knew why. "Come in," Mr. Alfred's calm voice called. Jace stepped inside, feeling like he was walking into an interrogation room. "Sit," Mr. Alfred said, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk. Jace hesitated before taking a seat. "How are you feeling?" Mr. Alfred asked, his tone neutral. Jace shrugged. "Better than yesterday." Mr. Alfred nodded. "Jace, I'm not here to lecture you. I just want to ask, do you still want to do this?" Jace stared at his hands. "I don't know," he admitted. "I thought I was ready, but the moment I got up there, it felt like my whole body shut down." "That's normal," Mr. Alfred said. "Overcoming a fear isn't about having a single breakthrough moment. It's a process. You took a step forward, even if it didn't go as planned. That still counts as progress." Jace exhaled heavily. "It doesn't feel like progress." "Because you're measuring success by perfection," Mr. Alfred said. "Don't do that. Every attempt matters, even the ones that don't go well. Just think about it, alright? And don't be too hard on yourself." Jace nodded. "I'll try." Jace had retreated to the music room during lunch break, seeking solitude. But solitude never lasted long when Miranda was around. She entered the room, placing her bag on the table beside him. "You're hiding," she said. Jace sighed. "I'm not hiding. Just... avoiding unnecessary attention." Miranda gave him a knowing look. "So, hiding." Jace rolled his eyes but didn't argue. Miranda sat beside him, her tone softening. "Jace, you don't have to prove anything to anyone. Not your bandmates, not the school, not even yourself. Healing takes time." Jace stared at the floor. "But what if I never get over this?" "Then you don't," Miranda said. "And that's okay. You're not weak for struggling with this." Jace looked at her, something in his chest easing slightly. "Thanks, best." She smiled. "Anytime." By the time school ended, Jace felt slightly lighter. His friends walked with him toward the school gate, chatting as if nothing had happened yesterday. "You know," Jason started, "if you ever feel like fainting again, can you give us a heads up? That way, we can prepare for the drama." Jace narrowed his eyes. "You want me to schedule my fainting episodes?" "Yes, exactly," Jason nodded seriously. "It helps with the planning." Dorah smirked. "Imagine if we had placed bets on when you'd faint. We'd be rich by now." Maxwell laughed. "Next time, let's take bets." "You guys are ridiculous," Jace muttered, but he couldn't help smiling. Ronald slung an arm around Jace's shoulders. "Just so you know, we're not giving up on you, even if you give up on yourself." Jace felt warmth spread in his chest. He wasn't sure what the future held, but at least he wasn't facing it alone. As he stepped outside the school gates, he took a deep breath. One day, he would get there. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But he would.