Chapter 18 Keeley
Keeley
The spa day really is magical.
In the industry, we spend so much time being prepared for something—this awards event, that photo shoot, a big concert, and now, a legal fight—that it’s easy to forget how nice it is to just relax in the chair without a destination or a time crunch.
And there was something so intimate about sharing this kind of day together—the champagne, the plush robes, the rose-petal soaking tubs for two. And even more than just being together, I really enjoyed seeing months of tension roll off of Jane.
“We should get massages more often,” she says, collapsing onto our bed as soon as we return to the suite.
“We can get massages every week if that’s what you want,” I say.
She gasps, feigning outrage. “We can’t! That’s so expensive!”
I shrug. “You’re worth it—but I could also invest in some good oil and give you massages at home,” I say, lowering my voice suggestively.
Jane’s eyes widen, a pretty flush creeping up her neck. “I think I’d like that.”
“Me too,” I say. “You know…it was weird having you leave a few weeks ago. I liked it when you stayed at my place.”
She beams, tugging me down on the bed next to her. “I liked it too.” I pull her close, and she snuggles into me. It’s wild how quickly we’ve figured this out, all the ways we fit together. Like she was my missing piece.
“We can take things at whatever pace makes sense, though. I know this weekend has been fast.”
Jane hums, snuggling closer. “Fast, but also not. It feels like all the time we’ve known each other was leading to this moment.”
I laugh. “You’re right.” And thank god she feels it too.
“As much as I want to keep going fast, I’m exhausted from all the nothing we did all day. I could use a nap before dinner.”
“Sounds perfect,” I say. We strip down to our underwear and slip into bed, her heat folding so easily back into mine. I set an alarm for an hour and start to doze off, succumbing to the comfort of us.
All too quickly, the alarm goes off, and we reluctantly get ready for dinner.
The resort is hosting a bonfire sing-along.
We weren’t going to go at first—it felt too dude-ranchy for us—but when I heard the host was taking suggestions, and they got excited when I mentioned Phoebe Bridgers, I knew we had to show.
I was picturing burgers on the fire, but the host quickly cleared up that the main courses will be grilled on wood planks and everything else will come from that delightful kitchen.
I’m no food snob, but after eating Valerie’s burned grilled-cheese sandwiches night after night on our first tour, then getting food poisoning the one time I tried to venture out with a gas station hot dog, I’m very suspicious of anything cooked without proper equipment.
Jane and I bundle up and head out, through the maze of the resort and out the back doors, where a small bonfire is set up against a sparkling starry sky.
There are well-cushioned chairs spread out in a small circle, and we find a couple of free ones and take a seat.
A few outdoor heaters are set up further back to cut against the chill, but we eagerly take the blankets offered by the staff greeting everyone.
The stars glitter on the still surface of the river winding past the outbuildings.
But none of it compares to the radiance of the girl at my side.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jane asks.
I smile, looking at her as she gazes up in wonder. “Yeah, it is.”
She glances over at me, and even in the firelight, I can tell she’s blushing. “You’re ridiculous. You can’t compare me to the wonders of the universe.”
“Why not?” I ask, nudging her foot with my own.
“Just look at the stars with me,” she says. And even though it’s too soon to admit, I know I’ll go anywhere, do anything as long as it’s with her, even if that’s just looking up at the sky. “Oh hey, there’s Cassiopeia. It’s my favorite.”
“The vain queen who got hung upside down in the sky?” I ask.
“Only for half the year!” she chuckles. “But it was the first constellation I learned to spot, and I was in the middle of my Greek mythology phase—which my parents hated, by the way, because it was ‘heretical nonsense,’ ” she says, even using the air quotes.
“So I claimed my seventh-grade English teacher offered extra credit during our mythology unit and used it as an excuse to check out a bunch of books from the library and memorize the pantheon.”
I laugh, despite the twinge in my chest as I think about all the backflips she had to do to cope with her demanding family. “You would rebel by doing homework.”
She rolls her eyes. “Says the woman who graduated valedictorian of her class! I remember you bringing your SAT flash cards to band practice and making Riker and I quiz you while Valerie and Caleb were arguing over song lyrics.”
I shrug. “I had a tight study schedule to keep, and it wasn’t my fault practice kept running long because they were too busy dancing around their attraction to each other.”
“I kind of miss those days,” Jane says. I’m surprised by the admission.
I reach for her hand, and she threads her fingers into mine, squeezing them tight.
“I know I pushed back when we first talked about making more music, but it had nothing to do with the band. I loved it when we were really getting into the mess of writing songs together, and yesterday was so fun, it’s just… ”
“You have a growing career. I get it,” I say. “Besides, I think I want to branch out, the way…” And then, I decide to take another chance. “I want to branch out the way my girlfriend has.”
Jane’s eyes sparkle, and she turns in her chair to face me better. “Girlfriend?”
God, that word sounds so good from her mouth. I try to ignore the pulse racing in my ears, because something about the way she looks at me makes me feel like I’m a teenager again. But I try to be cool. “I mean…if that’s okay with you?”
“Obviously!” she says, squeezing my hand. “And as your girlfriend, I want to support you by hearing about your goals.”
I laugh, resisting the urge to pull her closer for a kiss. We’re together, but I don’t know if she’s comfortable kissing in public. Even a public that’s only about a dozen other people who can barely see us in the firelight, more than a thousand miles from home.
“I just thought I’d have everything figured out before thirty,” I say.
“I’ve thought about producing, or writing, but it’s just…
” I trail off, trying to figure out how to articulate the hesitation she can so clearly see in my eyes, despite the dim light.
“I don’t know…I think it’s why I’ve been holding on so tightly to the band.
It’s just scary, to try something new at this age. ”
Jane laughs. “You’re twenty-nine, Keeley, that’s hardly old.”
I roll my eyes. “I know. But I really hoped we’d get a win with those masters. Now that there’s a bunch of interest, I’m terrified that we’re going to lose them.” What I don’t say is that I’m terrified I’ll have wasted all this time and energy for nothing. Is this a foolish fight?
She frowns. “Can I ask you something?”
I swallow thickly. “Of course.”
“It seems like fighting Label is personal to you. Like I get it—it’s our music, of course it’s personal—but for you, there’s more to it. Help me understand where you’re coming from. I care about you, and I want to be able to support you.”
My heart aches for how earnest she is, how much care she’s showing me as she poses the question. I squeeze her hand. “It is personal. God, Landon was the reason I wanted to be a drummer.”
Jane winces. “Did I know that?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure I ever told anyone.
But I saw an old Our Toxic Dream video when I was thirteen, and he was so goddamn carefree and powerful.
I wanted to feel the way that looked. So I asked my parents for drum lessons, and they did me one better—bought me that old Yamaha kit I used to use for gigs for my birthday… ”
“Your parents are the best,” Jane says.
A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow it away. I may not always agree with my parents lately, but they really are incredible humans, and I know how fucking lucky I am. Before my mind goes too far down that path, I continue.
“From the first moment I sat on a drum throne, I felt like my whole life made sense. I was gawky and feeling so weird in my skin and starting to think I maybe liked girls as much—if not more—than the few boys I thought were cute, and I couldn’t stand being in my head to process all that.
Fuck, it probably helped my ADHD too, since always having drumsticks in my bag gave me natural fidgets.
Drumming just…changed my life. It was all because of Landon Banks. ”
Jane nods. “And then we got a record deal and learned just how awful he was.”
I snort in agreement. “Exactly. So I’m fighting like hell for our masters, because I already had my asshole of a hero let me down—I’m scared to let him take anything else from me.”
“You know, he can’t take the Glitter Bats. We’re not going anywhere.”
My eyes sting. “I know.” But it was good to hear her say it, just once.
“And, well, you may have started drumming because of Landon, but he doesn’t define your career.
You have these incredible credits because you’re you, Keeley.
You’re such a gifted percussionist. You have a good ear and laser-focused attention to detail.
You’re incredible to collaborate with.” She smiles ruefully, the firelight dancing across her face.
“You’re opinionated, but it’s always because you know how to make everyone better.
And you care so much, not just about the music, but about the people you’re making it with.
You’re extraordinary, Keeley Cunningham. ”
“Thank you,” I say. And this attention, for some reason, makes my cheeks heat faster than anything we did back at the hotel room. Her opinion matters so much more to me than anyone else’s. And if Jane thinks I’m doing okay, well, maybe I’ll be able to believe it.
We sit there in contented silence for a few minutes, until I blurt out my own deep question. “How did you do it? Move on from the Glitter Bats that first time and completely change course?”
“I mean, I didn’t exactly move on. I was just desperate,” Jane says, self-deprecatingly.
“Because honestly? When the band broke up, I was faced with the terrifying reality that our royalties couldn’t sustain my life in Los Angeles.
The only other option was moving somewhere else on my own, and I didn’t know what the heck I’d do for work if I did…
or if I’d crash and burn and have to move back in with my parents. ”
I freeze. I never realized that’s where she was coming from. I wish I’d asked her sooner. “Oh god, that would have been…”
“Yeah,” she says quickly, running a hand over her curls. “I could never go back to that house. After all those years finally having the freedom to be myself, I couldn’t live under their scrutiny and expectations again…or face the alternative. Lying to fit into a life that was never right for me.”
“I get it,” I say. “You’re a lot braver than me.
” I’m talking about more than just producing, and we both know it.
She faces her fears head-on. I might have been an overachieving kid, but even the ways I’ve found to challenge myself these days aren’t very risky.
“I suppose the stakes for our masters are pretty low, considering,” I say.
“Fighting for what you believe in is always scary,” Jane says gently. “But if we didn’t fight for this band, for our family, we’d always wonder what would have happened if we had. Even if we lose, we’ll know we did everything we could to reclaim our music. No one can take that away from us.”
I nod. “My girlfriend is smart.”
“And don’t you forget it,” she says playfully. Just then, we’re interrupted by a server, who takes our dinner orders before reporting back to the grills.
The conversation turns lighter after that. We talk about our plans for the last day at the resort, movies we both want to see but haven’t had time to watch, restaurants we want to take each other to when we return to LA.
What we don’t talk about is what things will look like when we get back to reality. I want to believe this feeling, the joy and contentment and safety I have with Jane next to me smiling under the stars, will last.
I just hope I’m that lucky.