Episode 10
Part 48: The Poetry Gathering
After their unsettling experience at Bottom Bay, Jadon and Nadia retreated back to the sanctuary of the villa. For the next few days, the world outside seemed to melt away as they reveled in each other’s company. Time felt irrelevant; meals were shared leisurely, conversations flowed freely, and laughter echoed through the house.
By the fourth day, Jadon finally checked his messages. Among them was an invitation to an event called Poetree, a spoken word gathering on the south coast in Hastings.
“Let’s go,” Jadon said, showing Nadia the message.
“Poetry?” she teased. “Didn’t think that was your thing.”
“It’s not just poetry, it’s spoken word. It’s a chance to see some talent. Maybe even find that intangible I’ve been looking for.”
Later that evening, they arrived at a cozy outdoor venue lit by strings of warm lights. The sound of rhythmic verses and snaps of fingers filled the air. Jadon quickly spotted familiar faces: Roach, Cyrus, Nikki, Lyric, and Marcus were all there. The atmosphere was electric, with a lineup of spoken-word artists weaving raw emotion and vivid imagery into their performances.
Nikki took the stage first, her voice clear and commanding as she delivered a piece about resilience and love. The audience hung on her every word, but Jadon watched with a discerning eye, still searching for something that wasn’t there.
Lyric and Marcus followed with a collaborative performance, their verses intertwining like a conversation. They had charisma, a dynamic presence that drew applause, but even so, Jadon couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.
Between acts, Jadon noticed Roach chatting up an attractive young woman near the bar. The scene felt routine, Roach was always quick to charm, but tonight his antics would take an unexpected turn.
Moments later, the woman’s boyfriend appeared, his expression dark with anger. Without warning, he swung at Roach, landing a punch square on his cheek. The commotion drew everyone’s attention as the two men squared off, tensions escalating.
Before things could spiral further, Cyrus stepped between them, his presence commanding.
“You don’t want to mess with him. Mess with him you deal with me,” Cyrus said coldly, his eyes locked on the aggressor.
The man hesitated, then backed down, muttering, “This isn’t over.”
“Oh yeah?” Cyrus shot back. “Try me.”
The man left, throwing a parting glare over his shoulder. Roach nursed his swollen cheek, but otherwise seemed fine. Jadon, however, was far from pleased.
He followed Roach into the men’s room, Jadon cornered Roach.
“What the hell was that about? What you constantly trying to prove?” Jadon demanded, his tone sharp.
“I ain’t trying to prove nothing,” Roach said defensively, avoiding eye contact.
“Really? Because it looked like you were trying to prove you’re bigger than everybody else out there. You always trying to prove your manhood! That you da man. You could’ve gotten Cyrus or yourself killed tonight. And over what?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roach muttered, his voice low.
Jadon stepped closer, his voice softening but firm. “Stop overcompensating and just be yourself. That’s not how men roll. You think I don’t know? Huh? Stephanie.”
Roach froze, his eyes widening in shock.
“Yeah, I know,” Jadon continued. “And so do half the people out there. Where I come from people like you come a dime a dozen. Times have changed and you know what? Nobody cares, man. Kill the act. Be yourself. Tone your bravado shit down.”
Roach’s defenses crumbled, and tears streamed down his face. “You don’t know what it’s like being trans. Especially living here, in a place like this.”
Jadon placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then tell me, my friend. Help me understand.”
Roach looked at Jadon, his tears flowing freely now. For the first time, Jadon saw not the loud, overbearing womanizer Roach pretended to be, but the vulnerable human being beneath the facade.
Jadon pulled him into a hug, holding him firmly. “You don’t have to hide, Roach. Not from me. Not from anyone.”
Roach nodded, his sobs quieting as he leaned into Jadon’s embrace. For the first time, he felt a weight begin to lift, a weight he’d carried for far too long.
Part 49: Shadows and Light
They got back from Poetree late that night. Jadon sat quietly on the villa deck as the events of the evening replayed in his mind. Nadia eventually joined him, the two of them surrounded by the hum of crickets and whistling frogs.
He glanced at her, the flickering citronella candlelight casting soft shadows across her face. She could tell that something weighed on him.
“Nadia,” he said, breaking his silence, his tone thoughtful.
She set her wine glass down and gave him her full attention. “What’s up?”
“It’s about the artists I’ve been scouting. Nikki, Marcus, Lyric... they’re all talented, no doubt. But there’s something missing,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair.
Nadia raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s like... they all have pieces of what I’m looking for, but none of them feel complete. There’s this intangible quality I can’t define. Something that makes a top artist unforgettable, that pulls you in and doesn’t let go.”
Nadia nodded slowly, her gaze steady. “It sounds like you’re looking for magic. That thing you can’t teach or replicate.”
“Exactly,” Jadon said, relief flooding through him at her understanding. “And it’s frustrating because I feel like I’m close, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
Nadia smiled softly. “You’ll figure it out. You have an eye for talent… it’s why you’re good at what you do. Just don’t settle for less than what you know is out there. Even if it means moving on from here.”
Her words resonated, grounding him in a way that surprised him. Jadon reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it lightly. “Thanks, Nadia. I mean it.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the blackness of the ocean stretching endlessly before them. For Jadon, the intangible might still elude him in his search for artists, but here, in this moment, he felt a sense of clarity he had never experienced before. Nadia felt right.
********
Jadon had always been good at compartmentalizing… his work, his relationships, his emotions. But as he stood in the middle of an open-air market with Nadia, watching her flit from stall to stall with childlike wonder, he felt the lines between his worlds blur in a way that unsettled him. She was radiant, her camera hanging loosely around her neck, snapping candid shots of fishermen unloading their catches, the vibrant chaos of fruit vendors, and even a group of kids playing tag near the dock.
Jadon trailed behind her, hands shoved in his pockets, his mind half on her and half on the unsigned artists still weighing on him. Marcus and Lyric were undoubtedly talented, their chemistry electric on stage, but something about their artistry felt raw, unfinished. Nikki, on the other hand, had undeniable charisma, but Jadon wasn’t sure if her style would resonate beyond their circle.
He’d told Nadia about the “intangible” quality he was chasing, but now that he’d admitted it aloud, it felt even more elusive.
“Jadon!” Nadia called, waving him over. She was standing at a stall covered in handmade jewelry, holding up a bracelet made of small wooden beads.
He smiled and joined her. “What’s that?”
“A gift for you,” she said, slipping it onto his wrist without waiting for him to protest. “See? Perfect fit.”
Jadon glanced down at the bracelet, its simplicity strangely comforting. “Thanks,” he said.
Nadia tilted her head, studying him. “You’ve been quiet all day. Still thinking about your artists?”
He nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah. It’s hard to explain, but... I’m not just looking for talent. I want someone who stands out, who can change the game. Someone unforgettable.”
Nadia smiled knowingly. “You’re looking for the same thing in them that you see in yourself. It’s not just talent; it’s drive, purpose, and something deeper. That’s not easy to find.”
Jadon chuckled softly. “When did you get so insightful?”
“I’ve always been,” she teased, nudging him playfully.
Part 50: Intangibles
A few days later, Jadon and Roach met up to finalize their scouting notes. They sat in a crowded bar, the hum of conversation around them a perfect backdrop for their candid exchange.
“Okay,” Jadon began, flipping through a small notebook. “Marcus and Lyric…dynamic, great energy, but rough around the edges. They need polish.”
Roach nodded, his drink in hand. “True, but that’s what makes them raw. The crowd loves it.”
“Nikki,” Jadon continued, “she’s got stage presence, but I’m not sure if her style has longevity.”
Roach raised an eyebrow. “She’s got a vibe, though. People connect with her. That’s worth something.”
Jadon leaned back in his chair, frustration bubbling to the surface. “They’re all good, but not great. Not yet. There’s something missing.”
Roach smirked. “You’ve got high standards, man. That’s not a bad thing. But you can’t expect to find perfection right out the gate. Sometimes, you’ve gotta build it.”
Jadon considered his words, swirling his drink absently. “Maybe,” he admitted.
Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar voice. Nikki approached their table, her expression unreadable.
“Hello stranger! Mind if I join you?” she asked.
Jadon gestured to the empty seat, and she slid into it gracefully.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Nikki began, her tone direct. “About your search for talent. I know you’re not sold on me, and that’s fine. But I want you to know I’m serious about this. I’m not just doing it for fun, I want to make a name for myself.”
Jadon studied her, impressed by her honesty. “I respect that,” he said. “And I’m not ruling you out. I just need to make sure I’m investing in something I truly believe in.”
Nikki nodded, her eyes briefly flicking toward Roach, who raised his drink in a silent toast. “Fair enough,” she said. “But don’t underestimate me. I’ll prove I’ve got what it takes.”
That night, back at the villa, Jadon found Nadia sitting on the deck, her camera in her lap. She looked up as he approached, her expression soft.
“Long day?” she asked.
“You could say that,” he replied, sinking into the chair beside her.
Nadia reached out, tracing the wooden bracelet on his wrist. “Still chasing that intangible?”
Jadon sighed. “Yeah. It’s like trying to catch lightning.”
She smiled faintly. “You’ll find it. I’ve seen the way you work. You don’t settle for less.”
Jadon met her gaze, their eyes sharing an unspoken connection. In her, he saw something he couldn’t quite name; a quiet strength, an understanding that went beyond words.
“Maybe,” he said, his voice low. “But sometimes, I wonder if I’m chasing something that doesn’t exist.”
Nadia placed her hand over his, grounding him in the moment. “If anyone can find it, Jadon, it’s you.” She looked up to the sky in the distance, “Come on babe, a storm’s coming let go in.”
Jadon allowed himself a rare moment of peace, knowing that the answers he sought; whether in music, love, or life, would come when the time was right. For now, he let himself breathe, the weight of his ambition momentarily lifted by the woman at his side.
Part 51: The Storm Within
The rain began falling, soft at first, then steadily growing heavier. Each drop echoed loudly on the galvanized roof, creating a rhythmic symphony that filled the house. Jadon lay in bed, restless. His body twitched as his dreams became darker, twisting into the familiar nightmare that haunted him most nights.
In his sleep, he muttered their names: Roselyn. Avery.
Then he jolted awake, gasping for air as the nightmare ripped him from sleep. His heart pounded in his chest, his shirt damp with sweat. Sitting up, he glanced over at Nadia, who was still peacefully asleep. The soft rise and fall of her breathing momentarily calmed him, but the storm inside him raged on.
Quietly, Jadon slid out of bed, careful not to wake her. He wandered to the living room, drawn to the large window that faced the hills. The storm outside mirrored the chaos in his mind. Lightning lit up the blackness, and thunder rolled in waves, shaking the ground beneath him. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, his tears mingling with the condensation.
He didn’t hear her approach, but suddenly, he felt Nadia’s presence. Her gentle hand touched his back, and he flinched slightly before relaxing under her warmth.
“Jadon,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern. “What’s wrong?”
He sighed heavily, his body slumping as though her question alone had drained the strength from him.
“Everything was a blur,” he began, his voice hollow. “One minute I was driving. The next, I woke up in a hospital… a month later. My family…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “They were gone.”
Nadia’s breath hitched, but she didn’t interrupt.
“We were on our way home,” Jadon continued. “A truck hit us. My wife… Roselyn… she died instantly. My son, Avery, he held on for a week. He didn’t make it.” He paused, the words catching in his throat. “They were buried together, and I wasn’t even there. I was still in a coma. No one told me, but… deep down, I knew.”
Tears rolled down his face as he stared into the storm. “When I finally had the courage to ask, the doctors confirmed it. And all I wanted was to die. The hardest part wasn’t the crash. It was waking up every single day, knowing I got them killed. It was my fault. I should have seen the truck. I should have been more careful.”
Jadon’s voice broke into a sob. “Sometimes, I can’t sleep… I see them. They’re standing in the distance, just staring at me. They don’t say anything…they never say anything. They just look at me. And when I wake up, it hits me all over again: they’re gone, and I’m still alive.”
Nadia’s hand tightened on his shoulder, grounding him as he wept.
“I was dead inside until I came here,” he confessed. “I was going insane. Every day, I felt myself slipping farther and farther away, and I didn’t want to stop it. I deserved it. I punished myself to the brink of insanity. It’s been over a year, Nadia, and I can’t even bring myself to visit their grave.”
Nadia inhaled sharply. “You’ve never been there?”
Jadon shook his head, his body trembling.
“Jadon,” she said, moving in front of him and cupping his face in her hands. “Look at me.”
His tear-filled eyes met hers, raw and vulnerable.
“It was an accident,” she said firmly, her voice steady and full of compassion. “They don’t blame you. You would have died for them in a heartbeat…they know that. Jadon, they’re watching over you. They want you to heal. They want you to live.”
Jadon crumbled, to his knees as the weight of her words touched him. He wept openly, his pain spilling out in waves. Nadia knelt with him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, holding him as if her strength alone could hold him together.
“I love you, Jadon Jarvis,” she whispered, her own voice trembling. “And nothing is going to change that. We’ll get through this together. You’re not alone anymore.”
Jadon buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking her tee shirt. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself be held, his despair finding a safe harbor in her embrace. And as the storm outside began to quiet, so too did the storm within him, if only just for a little while.
Part 52: Malcolm’s Calling
What was supposed to be a few days at the hillside villa had stretched into a full week. For Jadon and Nadia, time had lost its urgency. Their days were a mix of quiet intimacy and unplanned adventures, and neither seemed eager to break the spell.
One late morning, while Jadon was brewing coffee, his phone rang. The screen flashed Malcolm’s name.
“Hey, Malcolm,” Jadon answered, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I was going to call you.”
“Is that so? Because I was starting to wonder if you got kidnapped,” Malcolm replied, his tone heavy with sarcasm. “I’ve been calling for days. What’s going on? You okay?”
Jadon sighed. “Sorry, boss. I just needed some time to sort my mind.”
“Look, Jay, I get that,” Malcolm said, his voice softening. “But I do have an agency to run. You can’t just go MIA on me. And by the way, I know where you are. Hotel and villa rentals on the company’s buck? You’re lucky I don’t claw the money back from you personally.”
Jadon couldn’t help but chuckle. “You wouldn’t do that to your best agent, now would you?”
“What have you done for me lately?” Malcolm sang in mock response, making them both laugh.
“Okay, okay,” Jadon said, shaking his head. “What’s up?”
“What’s up? I’m hearing from everyone but you! We’ve got potential talent already being scoped out. What have you got for me?”
“I’ve got a few people lined up,” Jadon admitted. “But I need to see them in the studio before making any decisions.”
“Well, it’s time to wrap this up and get back here,” Malcolm declared, his tone firm.
Jadon nodded, though Malcolm couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I know. I’ll send you more info by week’s end, and we’ll take it from there.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve got,” Malcolm said. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
“Got it. I’ll be in touch.”
“Bye, Jay.”
Jadon ended the call and stared at the phone for a moment. The weight of reality pressed down on him. Leaving this place, this bubble of peace he’d created with Nadia, now felt inevitable.
Nadia, sensing his mood, walked over. “Everything okay?”
Jadon nodded, though the look on his face told a different story.
She tilted her head, studying him. “You’re worried.”
He sighed, setting the phone down. “Malcolm’s right. I can’t stay here forever. I have to get back, finish what I started.”
Nadia leaned against the counter next to him, her presence grounding him. “I figured this was coming. But I won’t pretend I’m ready for it either.”
He looked at her, the thought of leaving saddened him. “I don’t want to go, Nadia.”
She smiled softly, brushing a hand against his arm. “Then don’t think about leaving just yet. We still have now. Let’s not waste it.”
Jadon smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. For now, they could hold onto this moment, even if the world outside was waiting for them to return.
