Page 43 of Discover Me
"Yeah, it's just the healing part." I flex my broken arm carefully, testing the range of motion. "Figuring out if I can move out of the cast and into a brace. The ribs are healing on schedule according to the doctor. The scar tissue is forming properly."
I study Kellan's face, taking in the dark circles under his eyes that suggest he's not sleeping well even beyond the rut. "Wait, what do you usually do on your days off? You don't hang with the band and stuff?"
Kellan shakes his head, his expression shifting to something more guarded. "We used to hang more before they got packed up. Weekly movie nights, going out for drinks, just normal friend stuff. But then it was harder to make time once everyone had mates and pack responsibilities. And then I just kind of started feeling like an outsider, like the grumpy uncle who hadn't found a family of his own yet."
He traces patterns on the table with his finger, not meeting my eyes. "So we don't really hang out unless it's a scheduled activity or band-related stuff. Practice, recording sessions, promotional events. The friendship part kind of died somewhere along the way."
"That's wild." I can't imagine losing that closeness with people you've worked with for years. "You spend so much time together, you'd think you'd be closer."
"I think I kind of broke things," Kellan admits quietly. "My attitude, my constant complaints about Tom and the direction we were going. I became difficult to be around. But they didn't rush in to help keep us together either. It was easier to let me drift away than deal with my problems."
He finally looks up at me. "My contract is up in three months and I just... I don't know if I'm going to renew."
The words hang in the air between us. "You'd leave the label? Leave the band?"
"Fuck, I've never really talked about this out loud." Kellan runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more. "And I guess after your accident, after everything that's happened, it all just kind of came to a head. It's not fun anymore. It's not about the music for them. It's about the product, the image, the money.And while I get that money is a big factor in any business, I want more. I want that dream I started with, the one where making music mattered more than making profit."
"What would you do afterwards?" I lean forward, genuinely curious. "If you leave the band, what's next?"
Kellan shrugs, but there's tension in his shoulders that suggests this question weighs on him. "I don't know. I'd have a chunk of change to help me figure it out, assuming Tom doesn't find some way to claim most of it. Maybe do something on my own? Solo work, or find musicians who actually care about art instead of just paychecks."
"And what about the others?" I ask carefully. "Rex, Liam, and Jordan? What about their careers if you leave?"
"Fuck, I didn't expect to have a therapy appointment of my own this morning." Kellan lets out a nervous laugh, the sound strained. "They'd probably be fine. Find another drummer, keep going. Maybe they'd be better off without me dragging down the mood all the time."
He takes a breath, his expression pained. "We're not the family we used to be and I keep waiting for it to get better. But there's a point when if it's not getting better, you have to let it go. Stop holding onto something that's already dead and pretend it can be resurrected."
"Maybe this album will make it better?" I suggest, trying to find some hope in the situation. "Bring you guys together? It's all about love and relationships. After our stunt in a few weeks, after the PR cycle dies down, it'll be easier to lean on them maybe. Remember why you started making music together in the first place."
Kellan clears his throat, his gaze intense on mine. "Are you planning on leaving after the contract ends?"
The question catches me off guard. "Did you not read the contract? I skimmed through parts of it after Tom explainedwhat I'd actually signed. There's a clause that says I'm not to stick around afterwards. Clean break, no contact, back to our separate lives. I go back to my world and you go back to yours."
Kellan frowns, something dark crossing his expression. "I'm not sure I like that."
My heart pounds harder, hope and fear mixing in my chest. I step closer, moving to stand between his legs where he sits at the table. "Tell me what part of that you don't like. I need to hear it."
Kellan reaches up, his hand gently gripping the front of my throat. Not threatening, not possessive in a bad way. Just holding me there, his thumb pressing against my pulse point where he can feel my heartbeat racing.
"I don't think I like the part where in three weeks, this is all over." His voice is rough, honest in a way that makes my chest ache. "I don't even know what this is between us, can't define it or explain it. But I like you more than I should for a fake arrangement. I don't want this to end."
He pulls me down into a kiss, his lips warm and soft against mine. The kiss is sweet and unhurried, nothing like the desperate claiming from last night. This is about connection, about communication beyond words. His hand stays on my throat, feeling every breath and swallow.
I pull back slightly, just enough to speak. "Then maybe we can figure out a way around it. The contract, the label, all of it. Maybe there's a loophole or a clause that lets us keep seeing each other after the arrangement ends officially."
"Fuck, I hope so." Kellan kisses me again, deeper this time.
Kellan
I'm practicing and hitting all the right notes, my rhythm tight and clean. The drums respond perfectly under my hands, each strike precise and controlled. We're working through one of the new love songs, the one that's actually decent despite the sickeningly sweet lyrics. Jordan's vocals soar over the instrumentation, Liam's guitar provides the melodic foundation, and I keep everything grounded with steady percussion.
Then Rex messes up again. The same fucking note in the same fucking place he's been getting wrong for weeks. His bass comesin too early, throwing off the entire rhythm section. Jordan stumbles over his lyrics trying to compensate, and Liam shoots Rex an irritated look.
Something inside me snaps. I drop my sticks with a clatter, the sound echoing through the practice space. Without a word, I walk out, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. The heat under my skin that's been simmering all day spikes higher, making my clothes feel restrictive and uncomfortable.
"Kellan, wait!" Liam's voice follows me into the hallway.
I keep walking, heading for the back exit where I can get some air and away from the suffocating practice room. But Liam catches up, his longer legs closing the distance easily. He corners me near the emergency exit, blocking my path with his body.
