Chapter 48
But you dismantled me so tenderly, with calculated acts of remedy…
Vale
“You can gradually return to work,” Dr. Henley concluded, making notes in his tablet.
“No more than two hours of recording per day this week. Increase slowly. Monitor for warning signs—myoclonic jerks, absence episodes, phantom tastes or sensations, and deja vu. Any of those appear, you stop immediately.”
Kieran was nodding eagerly, barely containing his excitement. “When c-can we record with Jericho?” he asked, the question directed at Vale rather than the doctor.
“Thursday,” Vale said, watching Kieran’s face light up. “I’ll schedule it today.”
After Dr. Henley left with instructions about the adjusted medication dosages and a follow-up appointment in two weeks, Vale found himself just watching Kieran move through the bedroom with renewed energy.
“I should start v-vocally warming up,” Kieran said, already reaching for his guitar. “The duet’s going to need p-proper breath control, and I haven’t really sung in two weeks—”
“After breakfast,” Vale interrupted gently. “The doctor said gradual return, not immediate immersion.”
Kieran’s mouth opened to argue, then closed. That beautiful submission that meant he trusted Vale’s judgment, even when it frustrated him.
Breakfast was simple—eggs, toast, coffee—but Kieran’s energy made it feel celebratory. He was already planning, talking through harmonies and vocal arrangements for the new duet, his stutter barely noticeable in his excitement.
“Jericho’s alto has a heat t-to it in this really beautiful way,” Kieran said, gesturing with his fork. “If I take the higher p-parts and let her anchor the lower register, it’ll create this sort of—this nervous sound that the song n-needs, you know?”
Vale did know. He’d produced enough duets to understand how voices could complement each other, but hearing Kieran talk excitedly about it made him so happy, he would let the boy ramble for days about subjects he knew like the back of his hand just to hear him speak.
“That could work,” Vale said, watching Kieran’s face animate with creative energy. “We’ll try different arrangements and takes in the studio to see what serves the song best.”
Kieran nodded enthusiastically, then paused, looking at Vale with something uncertain in his expression.
“What?” Vale asked.
“N-nothing, just—you’re staring at me.”
“I’m allowed to look at you.”
“I kn-know, but you’re d-doing that thing where you l-look like you’re think—thinking something really in-n-tense and won’t say it.”
Vale almost said it then. The words were right there, simple and true: I want to marry you. But they caught in his throat the way they had for two days. Because that was insane. He couldn’t ask someone to marry four months into a relationship.
Right?
“I’m just glad you’re feeling better,” he said instead.
Kieran’s smile was soft and accepting. “Me too.”
After breakfast, Vale retreated to his office while Kieran started vocal warm-ups in the living room.
The sound of his voice drifting through the house was distracting in the best way, but Vale forced himself to focus on scheduling the studio session and dealing with two weeks of accumulated music industry chaos.
His phone buzzed around mid-afternoon with a call from Nox. Vale stared at the screen for several seconds before answering.
“Valerian!” Nox’s voice was bright with that characteristic friendly poison. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten how phones work.”
“What do you want, Nox?”
“So hostile. I’m calling about the Vander collaboration. Reschedule for next week?”
“That’s fine.”
“Perfect. But Valerian... we should discuss Alex.”
Vale’s hand tightened on the phone. “What about him?”
“He’s getting unhinged. Even for him. I signed him because he had talent and you’d broken him in a way that really met some needs for me, but lately he’s obsessive. His blog posts are gaining traction—small articles picking up his narrative. Most people still think he’s unstable, but...”
“But what?”
“He knows things about your methods. And now your face is everywhere, your relationship with Thorn is public. Alex is writing detailed accounts of his time under your ‘mentorship.’ All it takes is one journalist with nothing to lose...”
The silence stretched on Nox’s end. He was waiting for Vale to balk first. Or admit something on a recorded line. It always was hard to tell with Nox.
“Why are you telling me this?” Vale asked.
“Because something tells me your Bandaid angel isn’t just a project anymore, and Alex Thayer running off at the mouth like the madman he is will ruin whatever fuck-bubble you two are living in.”
Vale clenched his jaw. “Get to the point, Anderson.”
Nox laughed, delighted. “You might need some people in your corner if this goes tits up. People who won’t treat you like a scandal. I’m saying you should let your friends help you when the time comes.”
“Stay out of it.”
“Always do. Ciao, Valerian.”
The call ended abruptly, leaving Vale staring at his phone. Alex was getting more unstable.
I’m going to have to deal with him soon.