Chapter 61
Planted roots in the graveyard of my past life; Growing toward you like you're burning bright…
Vale
Vale had removed his mask the moment he stepped off stage, needing to see Kieran clearly through the tears that hadn’t stopped flowing since the opening chord. From the wings, he watched the love of his life command ten thousand people with the same gentle presence he’d use for an audience of ten.
The performance had been transcendent from the first note.
When Vale had joined him for ‘Library Card‘, then the new arrangements of ‘Broken’ and ‘Temple of Flesh‘, he’d felt something he hadn’t experienced since his college days—pure joy in making music. Not the cold satisfaction of a successful project, but actual happiness at being on stage, supporting Kieran’s soaring voice with his accompaniment despite his initial reluctance.
But tonight, wearing the mesh mask even though everyone knew it was Vale Rose under there, he’d rediscovered what it felt like to create something beautiful in real time.
The joy came from watching Kieran bloom under the stage lights, seeing him transformed from an anxious stuttering boy to a confident artist who could make ten thousand strangers hang on his every breath.
You were born for this.
Vale had intended for Thorn’s public persona to be mysterious, ethereal—a wounded angel wrapped in gauze who spoke little and let the music carry all meaning.
But it turned out that letting Kieran be exactly as adorably shy and sweet as he naturally was made people love him even more.
The way he blushed when someone shouted “I love you!” from the crowd, the way he paused between songs to actually connect with his audience rather than maintain artistic distance—it was authentic in ways Vale’s marketing strategies never could have achieved.
“You guys are so n-nice,” Kieran had said earlier, his stutter barely present as he adjusted his guitar strap with nervous fingers. “This is, like, really overwhelming in the b-best way. I can’t believe you’re all here.”
The crowd had roared approval, and Vale had watched Kieran’s face light up with a wonder that no amount of coaching could have created.
This was why Vale had fallen in love with him—not just the trauma that created beautiful music, but the genuine sweetness that made people want to protect him, to cherish him, to follow wherever his broken voice might lead.
All your doubts, all your anxieties about not being good enough—this crowd is washing them away like the tide over sand.
The crowd hung on every word, no matter how it broke or stuttered.
They sang along to ‘Poison Saviors’ with voices that shook the venue walls.
They fell silent during the haunting bridge of ‘Broken‘, then erupted when Kieran’s voice soared through the final chorus.
They loved him completely, unconditionally, exactly the way Vale did.
You’ll never doubt yourself again after tonight. You’ll know what I’ve always known—that you’re extraordinary.
Vale wiped his eyes with shaking hands, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what they’d built together.
‘Descent’ started with its heavy electronic beat, and Kieran transformed completely—setting aside his guitar to move with unrestrained energy across the stage. His body bounced with joy as he launched into the rapid-fire lyrics, every syllable crisp despite the tongue-twisting wordplay.
Look at you move. Look at you shine.
Kieran’s restless energy carried him across the entire stage, his movements fluid and confident in ways that made Vale’s chest tight with pride.
When he wandered far enough back to catch Vale’s eye in the wings, and the brilliant smile he flashed was worth every tear they’d both shed to reach this point.
Vale felt tears welling up again as Kieran launched into the next verse, bouncing back toward the front of the stage with that same infectious energy.
The crowd was moving with him, swept up in his joy, and Vale thought he might actually fill Lake Michigan with his tears if this continued much longer.
“Good god, Valerian, get a grip on yourself.”
A tissue appeared on Vale’s shoulder as Nox’s voice cut through his emotional haze. Vale accepted the tissue without turning around so he wouldn’t punch Nox in the face
“I’ve been watching the show,” Nox continued. “Honestly, I’m impressed. That wounded little thing I met months ago—where did all this energy come from? Been keeping him fit, have you?”
“Nox,” Vale greeted with exasperated fondness, though his eyes never left Kieran’s bouncing form.
The debt he owed Nox for the heroin rumor that had redirected police attention made his irritation feel performative rather than genuine.
“Are you planning some green room bullshit again, or are you looking for a favor? Either way, you’ll have to wait until after we get back from vacation. ”
“Wow,” Nox laughed, genuine surprise in his voice. “I had no idea you were capable of human affection, but you look like a woman in love back here.”
Vale wiped another tear from his face with the back of his hand. “What do you want, Nox?”
“Nothing,” Nox said, and for once he sounded completely sincere. “I just wanted to see what came from your basement in one piece.”
Vale couldn’t help but smile as Kieran bounded back across the stage, close enough to flash another brilliant grin in Vale’s direction before rushing back to the front for the song’s climactic finish.
“I wish you’d share some of the secret sauce with me,” Nox mused, “if you won’t actually share Kieran himself.”
Vale’s smile turned sharp, predatory. “You want to know because you’re still not over Vander Moss rejecting you so completely, aren’t you? Affectionately, physically, manipulatively—he shut you down on every level.”
Nox sighed, a sound that carried years of frustration. “Guilty as charged.” He paused, watching Kieran command the stage with effortless grace. “Maybe you could help me try again. That collaboration with Vander we discussed could be my way in.”
Vale turned to look at Nox properly for the first time, squinting past the smug facade to see something he recognized from their younger years. Longing. Loneliness. The same desperate hunger that had lived in Vale’s chest unknowingly until the moment he’d spotted Kieran outside the train station.
Kieran is making me soft.
“I’m sure Kieran would agree to it when we get back from vacation,” Vale said, surprising himself with the concession. “And maybe I’ll give you some pointers on being more subtle. Your approach with Vander was about as delicate as a sledgehammer.”
“You’re a good frenemy to have, Valerian.” Nox’s smile was genuine for once. “Enjoy your vacation, and don’t go off eloping. I believe we still have a deal about ruining each other’s potential weddings with terrible best man speeches.”
Vale’s attention snapped back to the stage as the song ended and Kieran approached the microphone stand, beaded with sweat, his cheeks flushed as he panted from the exertion.
The concert was supposed to end here according to the setlist, but Kieran was pulling the piano bench from Vale’s piano toward the center microphone.
What are you doing, sweetheart?
“Th-Thank you,” Kieran stuttered into the microphone, still breathless and glowing. “I’m still in awe that you all stayed for the whole c-concert. I had no idea so many people already memorized the words to songs I didn’t even m-make videos for.”
As he adjusted the height of the mic stand, his voice grew softer, more intimate. “The setlist taped to the floor says I should end the concert, but I have something I’ve been w-working on for months that I want to share with you, if that’s okay.”
The crowd erupted in cheers, and Kieran blushed deep red, ducking his head with that shy smile that made Vale want to run out onto the stage and kiss him senseless.
“Please don’t r-record it in case it sucks,” Kieran said with a nervous laugh.
Vale stepped closer, positioning himself so he could see Kieran’s face clearly. He was chewing his lower lip, hands twitching toward his face for a moment before settling on the guitar with visible effort.
Finally.
Kieran began playing in A minor, the melody carrying flamenco influences that made Vale’s breath catch. He remembered mentioning his brief dalliance with flamenco guitar during one of their late-night conversations, and the fact that Kieran had incorporated it felt strangely exposing.
A beautiful crooning melody emerged, vocalized in counterpoint to the intricate fingerpicking Kieran was doing.
He took a deep breath that the microphone caught and amplified, then began in a voice that was quiet, shy—exactly how he sounded when trying desperately to be strong while wracked with anxiety.
“Listen to me clearly, I’ve been thinking that it’s time,
To break these fucking chains and leave this paradigm.
I’m stronger than I was before, I’ve learned to stand and fight;
No more cowering in corners, hiding from the light.
I don’t need your protection, your elaborate charade;
Of keeping me from living ’cause you think that I’m afraid.
I’ve grown beyond your boundaries, your walls of glass and steel;
It’s time to trust myself again, to learn what might be real…”
Vale’s heart skipped entirely. What is Kieran doing? Part of him immediately went to panic—Is this a public breakup? Is he leaving me in front of ten thousand people?
But then Kieran’s posture shifted completely. His head shook with disdain, a sneer crossing his features as his voice took on a different cadence entirely—gentler but sharp, carrying an authority that was unmistakably Vale’s own speaking patterns.
“Oh my sweet, naive little lamb, you think you’ve found your spine?
But you forget whose blood flows through those precious veins of mine.
I’ve kept you safe from drowning in the depths you cannot see,
And now you want to swim alone? How ungrateful can you be?