Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Ezra
The day after Christmas is a strange mix of relief and unease.
The madness of yesterday is over, but there’s this quiet sensation. This feeling that something bigger is about to happen. And we all know it, even if none of us want to admit it just yet.
We’ve got decisions to make, things to figure out—the future of the band, the next steps in this wild ride. It’s not the kind of conversation we can dodge, not anymore. The music, the fame, the way everything’s shifting around us, it’s all coming to a head.
I sit back on the couch, one leg stretched out across the coffee table. I’m still waking up, still wrestling with what’s next. But I can already feel the tension building in the room.
This is it.
Time to talk it through.
Sloane’s next to me, her attention split between me and the guys, but she’s here, present, and that’s more than I can say for myself right now. The rest of the guys are leaning against the window, staring out at the gray sky, waiting for it to give them all the answers they need.
Creed looks about to rip the blinds down, his arms crossed, and his jaw clenched. Roman’s standing a little to the side, his usual cocky grin gone, replaced by something more serious and uncertain.
The house feels still, too still for this moment. I think we all know we can’t hide from what’s coming, so we’re just waiting for someone to speak up, someone to say the words we’ve been circling for the last few days.
Roman’s the one to break the silence. “Alright, we need to talk about where we go from here. The manager thing. The tour. All of it. I think it’s time.”
“I get it,” I say, leaning forward. “This isn’t just about music anymore. It’s about what comes with it. Fame. Pressure. We all know how it works. We’ve seen it before.”
Creed cuts in, his voice a little sharper than usual. “I’m not worried about the music. I’m worried about what happens when it all gets bigger than us. That’s the thing about fame. It takes away the pieces of you that you didn’t even know you were holding onto.”
“Yeah,” Roman agrees, rubbing the back of his neck. “The spotlight’s been nice, but it’s also been suffocating. I don’t want to lose what we have, not for some shiny contract or some tour that’ll end up feeling like a cage.”
I let out a quiet sigh. This is the part where we all have to admit we’re scared, scared of what this thing, this band, might become again.
We’re on the edge, staring down the unknown. And we can’t keep hiding from it.
“So, what are we saying here?” I ask. “Do we give the new manager a shot? Take the risk, see what happens? Or do we give it all up forever?”
Creed looks down, his brow furrowing, and then he meets my gaze. “I think we have to try. It’s the only way we move forward. If we don’t, we’ll always wonder what if.”
I nod, my stomach still tight, but the words feel right. We don’t want regrets.
Roman pipes up. “Yeah. We don’t have any other option. We’ve been stuck for too long, letting the fear of what’s next control us. We either sink or swim, and I’d rather swim.”
I can feel the weight lifting from my chest, a sense of unity falling over us. It’s the first time in a while that the path forward seems clear. The fog has finally started to lift. But I still can’t help feeling there’s one more piece to this puzzle we haven’t quite figured out yet.
That’s when I turn to Sloane, her quiet presence beside me a grounding force. She’s been listening, processing.
I can feel the tension between us, the delicate space that we’ve always occupied with one another. But this time, there’s something different surrounding us, something I can’t quite put into words.
I take a slow breath, meeting her eyes.
“Sloane,” I begin. “Obviously, you have become critical to us in every single way. And what I think we all want to know is if you’ll come with us?”
Her brow furrows slightly, and I can feel her hesitation. “As your cook?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Obviously, you have become a lot more important to us than that. Not only do we want you to come with us as a family, but I also think we’d be a lot stronger with you in charge of our media and socials, all of it.
We need you. Not just to make the music look good, but to make sure we stay grounded, stay… real.”
I let the words sink in, watching her closely. Her eyes soften as she looks at me, and for a moment, I feel exposed. She’s reading into all of my unspoken thoughts. She doesn’t answer immediately, and I feel my heart skip a beat, wondering if I’ve made a mistake.
Have I said the wrong thing? Does she not want this?
Finally, she speaks. “You want me to come with you… as your partner, in this? Not just the social media manager, but… in everything?”
I nod, my stomach tightening. “Yes. We’ve always been a team. I don’t want that to change.”
Sloane takes a long breath, her gaze dropping for a moment before it meets mine again.
“I didn’t think… I didn’t think you’d ask me like that.” Her lips curl into a small, almost unsure smile. “But yeah. I’ll do it. I’ll be with you guys. I’ll help you figure out this mess of fame, music, and everything else. But… we’re in this together, right?”
“Absolutely,” I say, a grin spreading across my face. “Together, all the way.”
The room erupts in this quiet kind of joy. The kind that starts with a breath, then builds until it fills every inch of space. Roman lets out a low whistle, grinning as he claps his hands together. Creed actually grins and mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “Finally.”
Roman pops the cork of a bottle I didn’t even know he was holding, champagne splattering across the ceiling, and he doesn’t even try to clean it up.
“To the next chapter,” he shouts, grinning. “And to our new manager, and our official badass media queen!”
Sloane rolls her eyes but raises her glass. “Sounds good to me.”
But the next time I catch a glimpse of Creed’s expression, I notice something else. He looks a little… foggy.
Roman catches it, too. But he’s much better than I am at picking out the issue. “Gonna miss this place, you know? Didn’t think I’d ever say that about a town with one diner and a population small enough to fit in a van, but… it’s become home over the last couple of years, hasn’t it?”
Sloane looks over at him, her eyes thoughtful. “I feel attached to this place, and I’ve only been here for a short while. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you guys. It’s where everything changed, where you found your sound again. Where we found each other.”
She’s right.
This place gave us back what we’d lost.
Creed nods slowly, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips. “Coyote Glen’s been good to us. Feels wrong to … leave it behind for good.”
I lean back, taking it all in. The crackle of the fireplace, the faint hum of the heater, the comfort of knowing exactly where we are and who we’re with.
The world’s about to spin faster, pull us into bigger stages, brighter lights, louder crowds.
But this? This is the still point. The heartbeat beneath the noise.
“Then we don’t leave it behind,” I say quietly.
Roman tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I pause, looking around the room at the faces that have become my family. “We keep a base here, a studio, a place to crash when the road gets too loud. We make Coyote Glen ours. This town gave us a second chance… it only feels right to keep a part of it.”
Sloane’s smile grows. “I love that. A home base. Somewhere to come back to when everything else gets crazy.”
Creed nods in agreement. “A place to make music without the noise. Just… us.”
Roman lifts his glass again, eyes bright. “Alright then. To Coyote Glen. Our little corner of the world.”
We all raise our glasses. “To Coyote Glen.”
Outside, snow starts to fall again, blanketing the town that built us. And for a moment, I think about all the places we’ll go, the cities, the crowds, the energy of it all, but I know that no matter how far we travel, we’ll always find our way back here.
To this town.
To each other.
Whatever’s waiting for us out there, we’ll face it together.
And when the noise gets too loud, we’ll always come home.