Broken Notes - A Two and a Half Men Fanfic

When Nero walked through the front door of his dad's house, it felt colder than usual. The same stillness that always seemed to fill the place was there, but after spending time at Charlie's, it felt even more suffocating now. His backpack slid off his shoulder and hit the floor with a heavy thud. No note. No sign of his dad.

At Charlie's place, life buzzed constantly. Music playing, conversations happening, the faint smell of food—or something vaguely edible—lingering in the air. It was messy and chaotic, but alive. Here, everything was too neat, too quiet.

Nero wandered into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water, and stared out the window. His dad's lawn was perfectly trimmed as always, but it was the only thing his dad seemed to care about anymore. The rest of the house was just as empty as it felt inside.

He sighed, sitting at the table. His fingers tapped out the rhythm of a jingle he and Charlie had been messing around with on the piano. At least at Charlie's, there was noise and distraction. Here, it was nothing but dead air.

The front door finally creaked open, and Nero perked up. His dad was home—late as always. The footsteps headed straight to his office, no greeting, no acknowledgment. Nero groaned, pushing himself up from the couch.

He padded down the hallway to his dad's office, the door slightly ajar. His dad was hunched over his desk, flipping through papers under the dim glow of the desk lamp.

"Hey... you're home," Nero said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah, just for tonight," his dad muttered, still focused on the papers in front of him. "Early flight tomorrow."

Nero frowned. "You didn't tell me about that."

His dad glanced up for a brief second, then back to his paperwork. "Work came up. You know how it is."

Nero stared at him, the usual disappointment sinking in. "You never talk to me anymore."

His dad sighed, rubbing his temples. "Nero, I'm working. I have to keep things moving."

"I know you have to work, but I'm still here," Nero said, his voice tight.

His dad paused as if considering saying something meaningful but just looked back down at his desk. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Nero shook his head. "Yeah. Later," he muttered, leaving the office.

A few days later, Nero found himself back at Charlie's place. As soon as he stepped inside, the difference hit him—there was life here. The sounds of an old rock song filled the room, Charlie's voice singing badly over it.

"Hey, kid!" Charlie called from the couch, where he was flipping through channels. "Back for more? Couldn't stay away, huh?"

Nero laughed. "Yeah, something like that."

Charlie gave him a once-over. "You look like you need some fun. Grab a drink! Oh wait, you're still underage. Well, you can watch me drink and take mental notes for when you turn 21. Better yet, we're going out."

"Out where?" Nero asked.

Charlie stood up, stretching like a cat. "Karaoke bar. Trust me, it's gonna be a disaster, and that's the point."

Nero raised an eyebrow. "I don't sing."

"Perfect. You'll fit right in," Charlie grinned. "Come on, let's hit the road."

The karaoke bar was small and crowded, with flickering neon lights and a stage that looked like it hadn't been updated since the '90s. A random guy was up on stage butchering a classic rock song, and the crowd was eating it up.

Charlie nudged Nero as they found a table. "This place? It's a gold mine. People come here to crash and burn. I come here to watch."

Nero snorted. "You don't actually sing here, do you?"

Charlie gave him a devilish grin. "Oh, I sing. Not well, but I make up for it with enthusiasm." He pointed to a group of women at the bar. "Plus, this place is crawling with potential 'new friends.'"

Nero rolled his eyes as Charlie sauntered over to the women, turning on the charm full-blast. In no time, Charlie had them laughing, tossing his hair back like some kind of rockstar. Nero watched in amusement as Charlie made his way back to their table, proudly carrying drinks.

"See that? Charm," Charlie said, setting the drinks down. "It's a gift. Now, let's ruin some songs, shall we?"

Before Nero could protest, Charlie hopped up on stage, grabbing the mic with a confident swagger. "Alright, folks! You're about to witness greatness," he announced.

The opening notes of "Livin' on a Prayer" blasted through the speakers, and Charlie launched into a hilariously off-key rendition, complete with exaggerated dance moves and finger-pointing at the audience. The crowd roared with laughter and cheers.

Nero couldn't help but laugh too. Watching Charlie make a fool of himself was oddly refreshing. It was different from home—less pressure, more fun.

After the song, Charlie returned to the table, drenched in sweat and grinning like a madman. "See? Easy. Now it's your turn, kid."

Nero shook his head. "No way. I'm not doing that."

"Come on, it's tradition! Get up there and butcher a song. Nobody cares! That's the beauty of karaoke—you're not supposed to be good. Just get up there, mumble some lyrics, and boom—you've got confidence."

Nero hesitated, but Charlie wasn't letting up. "Look, I'll even help you. We'll do a duet. Something easy."

Charlie dragged Nero up on stage, the crowd already buzzing with excitement. The music started—something upbeat and ridiculous—and before Nero knew it, he was belting out lyrics with Charlie, laughing through the whole thing. They were terrible, but that was the point. It was fun.

As the song ended, the crowd clapped and cheered, and Nero found himself grinning from ear to ear. Maybe Charlie's chaotic energy was exactly what he needed after all.

The following morning, Nero woke up feeling lighter. The karaoke bar had been ridiculous, but it was also the most fun he'd had in ages. As he walked into the kitchen, Charlie was already there, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee.

"Feeling better?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nero nodded, grabbing some cereal. "Yeah. That was actually pretty fun."

Charlie smirked. "Told you. Karaoke is like therapy, but with worse singing. It works wonders."