Page 58 of Discover Me
"We're all preparing for this new love album." I set my drumsticks down carefully, lining them up parallel on the snare. "And yeah, I pushed back on the concept. Made my feelings about the direction very clear. But I just can't do it. Not after last night."
"You mean the pictures of you fucking Micah in your car?" Rex's tone is casual but there's genuine curiosity underneath."Yeah, saw those. Everyone saw those. Pretty sure they're still trending."
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Look, that wasn't planned. It wasn't staged for cameras or performed for content. I actually like Micah. More than like. I think he's my mate. It's too new to make it official with bites and bonds and all that traditional shit, but I don't want to let him go after the contract ends."
"Took you long enough to admit it out loud." Liam grins at me, clearly unsurprised by this revelation.
I throw him the finger but there's no real heat to it. "Tom found us making out in the practice room the other day and completely lost his shit. Accused us of making it real instead of keeping it professional. He sped up the timeline as punishment. Our supposed breakup dinner is in another day or two."
"You just fucking announced your relationship." Rex stares at me. "Like, what, a week ago? And he already wants you to break up? That's insane even for Tom."
"I can't do this." The words burst out of me, everything I've been holding in for days. "Tom is going to rip Micah away from me and there's nothing I can do about it without destroying my career. Micah already moved back to his house because Tom ordered it. Now he gets dropped off by cars the label sends, picked up at scheduled times like he's cargo instead of a person. It's humiliating for him and it's killing me."
I pace the practice room, needing to move to contain the restless energy. "I want him. Fuck, I want Micah Davis in my life permanently. But I can't do the band and have my Beta. Tom made that very clear. Choose the career or choose the relationship, but I can't have both."
Jordan whistles low. "Damn, I never thought we'd hear those sweet words from you. 'I want my Beta.' You've been the lone wolf for so long I was starting to think you'd never settle down."
Liam's grin widens. "Told you he was mated. You all doubted me but I called it weeks ago."
Rex sighs, his expression shifting to something more serious. "Fuck it, we're all not happy with the label anyway, okay? We can play perfectly all we want, nail every note and every performance. But these love songs aren't us. The lyrics are great, Jordan did an incredible job writing them. But they aren't Lunar Ransom. They're what Tom thinks will sell, not what we actually want to create."
"Okay, and?" I stop pacing to look at them. "What are we supposed to do about it? We're all under contract. Fighting Tom means financial ruin and potential blacklisting from the industry."
Jordan exchanges glances with Liam and Rex, some silent communication passing between them. Then he steps forward, his expression intent.
"We've all been talking about our contracts apparently." Jordan pulls out his phone, scrolling through what looks like a legal document. "None of us are planning to renew. But there's a clause I found yesterday that I didn't see before, buried in the termination section."
He turns his phone so I can see the screen, pointing to a specific paragraph of dense legal text. "If we all walk at the same time, if all four members of Lunar Ransom terminate their contracts simultaneously, the penalty is next to nothing. Sure, we forfeit any property the label gave us like cars and equipment they technically own. But we still get our money payouts, our royalties from past albums, everything else we've earned. The massive financial penalties only apply if we break contracts individually."
I stare at the text, reading it twice to make sure I understand. "That's impossible. Tom would never allow a clause like that to exist."
"I thought so too." Liam moves to stand beside Jordan. "But I think it's a clause that just never got updated. When we first started, we were nobodies. Just four guys who were too happy to have a few extra bucks in our pockets and a shot at a music career. The clause probably seemed reasonable back then, a way to end things cleanly if the band didn't work out."
"And I'm not sure the legal team fully reads over the contracts anymore," Jordan continues. "They just update salary numbers and dates, copy and paste the standard language. The contract we re-signed last year still has this statement buried in the fine print. Tom probably doesn't even remember it exists."
I look between the three of them, my heart pounding. "So we're all just leaving the label? Walking away from Lunar Ransom? Just like that?"
"Not from Lunar Ransom." Jordan's voice is firm. "From the label and from Tom's management. But I'd still like to be a team if you'll have us. The four of us, making music on our own terms."
I frown, confusion cutting through the hope starting to build. "What are you talking about? We can't just take the band name with us. The label owns all of that, the intellectual property and branding."
"Do they though?" Liam raises an eyebrow. "You really don't remember who officially chose the band name, do you? We all worked together brainstorming ideas, throwing out suggestions. But Lunar Ransom was yours. You came up with it, wrote it down, and we all agreed it was perfect."
The memory surfaces slowly, hazy from years of distance. Five years ago, sitting in a shitty apartment with three guys I barely knew, trying to figure out what to call ourselves. We'd gone through dozens of terrible options before I suggested Lunar Ransom, something about the moon and taking what you want instead of waiting for permission.
"You gave up the guitar for drums because the band needed it," Jordan continues. "You've been a pinnacle point, Kellan. The foundation we all built around. You might be the youngest but it's not Lunar Ransom without you."
"We have a lot to make up for," Rex adds, his voice serious in a way I rarely hear from him. "The way we've been treating you, letting Tom manipulate us into pushing you aside. Making you feel like the outsider when you've been carrying this band longer than any of us want to admit. But I'm hoping we can do it again when things die down a little. Still the four of us, just without Tom's bullshit."
I stand there speechless, staring at my bandmates. These men I thought I'd lost, who I'd written off as casualties of Tom's manipulation and my own inability to connect. They're offering me everything I thought I'd have to choose between. The band and Micah. Music and love. Career and happiness.
"He's speechless!" Jordan laughs, the sound bright and genuine. "That's a new one! Kellan Hayes, the guy with a comment for everything, completely silent!"
"I don't know what to say." My voice comes out rough with emotion I'm not used to showing. "You guys are really willing to walk away? Risk everything for a clause that might not even hold up?"
"Already had the lawyer look at it." Liam pulls out his own phone. "It's solid. Ironclad, actually. If we all terminate on the same day with proper notice, the penalty caps at forfeit of label-provided property. We lose the fancy cars and the recording equipment they technically own. But our money, our reputation, our ability to work in the industry—all of that stays with us."
"We'll figure it out together." Jordan's expression is determined. "Start our own label, find indie distribution, whatever it takes. We're good enough to make it work without Tom's machine behind us."
