Chapter 30 Micah
Micah
I get home still unraveled after having dinner with Kellan, my body humming with the aftershocks of what happened in his car.
The car sex wasn't planned, neither of us intending for the night to end that way.
But the moment we were alone in the parking lot, his hands on me and my mouth on his, everything else faded away.
The fake relationship, the cameras, Tom's manipulation.
None of it mattered compared to the desperate need to be close to him.
Then the car Tom sent arrived and I scrambled out of Kellan's passenger seat, flustered and embarrassed as I straightened my clothes.
My shirt was untucked, my hair a mess, and I could feel Kellan's marks on my neck burning under the driver's knowing look.
Worst of all, I smelled completely like him.
Sweet rum clung to my skin and clothes, impossible to miss or misinterpret.
The driver didn't say anything during the ride back to my house, but I could see him glancing at me in the rearview mirror. Probably already reporting back to Tom about my disheveled state, about the obvious evidence of what we'd been doing.
I unlock my front door and step inside, my legs still shaky. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, expecting a text from Kellan. Instead, it's from Jamie. A screenshot of a photo fills my screen and my stomach drops.
The photo shows me on Kellan's lap in his car, clearly visible through the window. We're locked in a kiss, my good hand tangled in his hair, his hands gripping my hips. The angle suggests someone took it from outside the restaurant, probably another diner or a fan who recognized Kellan's car.
Jamie: MICAH WHAT THE FUCK
Jamie: This is EVERYWHERE
Jamie: Call me NOW
Before I can respond, Jamie bursts into my house without knocking, his expression somewhere between shocked and impressed.
"When I said don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jamie starts, holding up his phone with the photo displayed, "I didn't mean have sex in a car in a public parking lot where anyone could take pictures!"
Heat floods my face. "Everyone knows?"
"That's how social media works, fuck!" Jamie scrolls through his phone, showing me post after post sharing the photo.
"There's some hate from jealous fans, but mostly it's excitement.
People saying Kellan's found his person, that they've never seen him look at anyone like that before.
Fucking hell, Micah. You're going to be famous for real now, not just as his temporary boyfriend. "
My hands shake as I take his phone, scrolling through the comments myself.
Thousands of people have seen this photo in just the past hour.
Thousands of strangers discussing my relationship, my body, my choices.
Some comments are supportive and sweet, fans happy for Kellan.
Others are crude, speculating about what we were doing and rating my attractiveness.
A few are outright hostile, calling me a distraction or saying I'm not good enough for him.
"I'm nervous as fuck." I hand the phone back to Jamie, my chest tight. "Tom is going to lose his mind. This wasn't supposed to happen. We were supposed to keep it professional, staged for cameras. Not get caught having actual sex."
A knock sounds at my door and Jamie goes to answer it. Kellan stands there looking panicked and wild, his hair even messier than when I left him. He probably drove here immediately after I left, not caring about speed limits or traffic laws.
"Fuck, I had to make sure you were okay.
" Kellan pushes past Jamie and crosses to me in quick strides.
He cups my face and kisses me desperately, pouring everything he can't say into the contact.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
"I'm sorry. I should have been more careful.
Should have checked that we were actually alone before—"
"I'm fine." I cut him off, my hands gripping his shirt. "But it's everywhere? The photo?"
"Everywhere," Kellan confirms. "Trending on three different platforms. The label's PR team is scrambling to figure out how to spin it."
His phone rings, the shrill sound cutting through the moment. Kellan grimaces when he sees the caller ID but answers anyway, putting it on speaker.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Tom's voice explodes through the speaker, loud enough that we all flinch. "I thought I told you to sell the relationship but that this shit isn't supposed to be real! Sex in the car? Where anyone could see and photograph you? What the actual fuck, Kellan?"
"Tom—" Kellan starts but Tom cuts him off.
"We're staging the breakup immediately. Tonight. I'll have the PR team draft statements and we'll coordinate the timing. This has gone too far. You're not going to drag your image through the mud like this, make yourself look desperate and out of control."
"The fans are loving this." Kellan's voice is tight with barely controlled anger. "The response has been overwhelmingly positive. We don't need to—"
"No." Tom's tone is final. "This is part of the contract.
You agreed to follow my direction on promotional activities and public image.
I'm directing you to end this now. Get rid of the emotions and give me back the brooding drummer boy who doesn't need anyone.
That's what sells records, not whatever domestic bliss you think you've found. "
Tom pauses, then continues with something sharp in his voice.
"I assume you're over at the Beta's house right now, so you can deliver him the news personally.
You're going to have to sell it, Kellan.
Make it convincing. And there will be consequences if you don't comply.
Breach of contract, financial penalties, potential lawsuit. I'm not playing games anymore."
The call ends and Kellan stands there holding his phone, his whole body vibrating with tension. He drags his hands through his hair, pulling hard enough that it has to hurt. His sweet rum scent spikes with distress, filling my small living room.
Jamie clears his throat from where he's been watching everything unfold. Kellan looks over at him, seeming to remember for the first time that we're not alone.
"I already know everything," Jamie says, his voice calm despite the chaos. "The fake relationship, the contract, Tom's manipulation. Micah told me weeks ago. And it fucking sucks that you're being forced into this situation. But maybe love is a little more important than your music career."
"You don't understand." Kellan's voice breaks slightly.
"If I break my contract, I owe hundreds of thousands in penalties.
I lose my band, my income, everything I've built.
Tom will make sure I never work in this industry again.
He has connections everywhere, power to destroy my reputation and blacklist me. "
"No, I don't understand." Jamie's expression hardens.
"I don't understand the music industry or contracts or any of that bullshit.
But what I do understand is that you guys are mates.
Maybe I was joking about it a month or so ago, throwing it out there as a possibility.
But I can see it now, clear as day. You're made for each other.
The way you look at him, the way he looks at you.
The way his scent changes when you're near, how yours does the same for him. "
Jamie steps closer to Kellan, his posture aggressive despite being smaller. "And if you're going to throw this away for your image or your contract or whatever other bullshit Tom is holding over your head, then Micah, you need to let him go. You need to walk away first before he breaks your heart."
He turns to me and I see the fierce protectiveness in his expression, the same look he had when he chased Derek and Colt out of my house.
"No one ever puts you first, Micah. They all banded together when you got hurt because that's what good people do in a crisis.
But when's the last time you actually got that kind of attention when you weren't bleeding or broken?
When's the last time someone chose you just because you're worth choosing? "
The words hit harder than I expect, exposing a truth I've been avoiding.
My dad chose work over spending time with me.
My mom chose to leave entirely. The town shows up for emergencies but fades away when things are normal.
Even Kellan and I started because of a contract, because Tom forced us together for publicity.
Jamie turns back to Kellan, his voice dropping lower but no less intense.
"If you aren't going to fight for my friend, if you're going to cave to Tom's demands and stage this breakup like a good little puppet, then at least make it official on the last date.
Give Micah the closure of a real goodbye instead of whatever manipulative performance Tom has planned. He deserves that much."
"I'm not breaking up with Micah." Kellan's voice is firm, certain. "I don't care what Tom threatens. I'm not doing it."
"You seem like a man of your word." Jamie holds Kellan's gaze. "Make sure you keep it."
Jamie grabs his jacket from where he left it on the couch. "I'm going home. You two need to talk without an audience." He pauses at the door, looking back at me. "Call me if you need anything. I mean it, Micah. Anything."
The door closes behind him and silence fills the space he left. I stand there staring at Kellan, not sure what to say or do. Everything feels too big, too complicated, like we're standing at a crossroads without a map.
I get up from the couch and start walking toward the stairs, needing space to think and process. Then I twist around to look at Kellan, still standing in my living room looking lost.
"Are you coming?" The question holds more weight than it should, asking about more than just following me upstairs.
Kellan's expression clears, determination replacing the uncertainty. "Always."