Three
Kaj was early again today.
He never arrived late on purpose, but some days it felt like Murphy had a personal vendetta against him. His bike had a flat tire. This street or that was closed for repairs. Or he was completely passed out after a night of bad decisions, as was customary, and his alarm didn’t go off. However, since he didn’t live in a permanent high, this shit had become a habit.
Kaj didn’t fancy the idea of the guys getting used to him being a respectable human. It was strange even for him. Like, who the fuck are you? Yet, he didn’t know what else to do other than pace his apartment like a loon, waiting for the inevitable. At least here, in the rehearsal room, he felt safer. It soothed his soul.
But maybe all that was just a fucking delusion, and he was in hell.
“Hey,” Noah said when he closed the door behind him, because of course he was the perfectly annoying, uptight, always-on-time type of person.
“Hey.” Kaj spared him a quick glance before going back to look at his phone. He was mindlessly scrolling, but it was better than seeing Noah’s face. Seriously, the way his stomach churned from just looking at him was sickening.
“Where are Aksel and Xander?” Noah asked.
“On their way.”
“Hm-kay… How long until they get here?”
“No idea.”
Noah opened his mouth to ask something else, but Kaj looked up, his glare probably telling him to stop talking.
For a moment, Noah seemed to get it. He took off his coat, sat on the couch across the room with one leg crossed over the other, and looked around. The space was pretty decent to be a rehearsal room; washed-out brown wooden floors, a high ceiling paneled with acoustic foam, and concrete walls half-covered for sound improvement. Of course there was a big rug with floral motifs and medallions—a classic—that extended from underneath the drums over the center of the room.
As silence had settled, making Kaj think he was in the clear, Noah opened his big mouth again.
“So… How’s your family?”
Kaj raised his head and glared at him again, trying to actually bore a hole in his head. “They’re dead.”
“Oh… I-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
Kaj could have left it there. He could have let Noah sit in his awkward, fumbling guilt. But something in Kaj—something rotten—wanted to see just how uncomfortable he could make him.
Kaj let out a derisive snort. “Katja drank herself to death. Not much of a loss anyway.”
That one landed. Kaj saw it in the way Noah stiffened. Saw it in the flicker of his eyes. Was it disgust? Pity? Good.
“Dearest stepbrother is still alive, somewhere. Last time I checked he was in jail for drunk driving and killing someone in the process, but he might as well be dead.”
Noah didn’t get it. Of course he didn’t. He had no idea what he was asking about. No idea that if Kaj let himself think— really think —about Jesper, whose hands had reshaped his entire fucking life into this unrecognizable thing—No. No . He wasn’t going there.
“Doesn’t matter.”
Silence settled between them, thick and suffocating . But not for Kaj. He didn’t feel it . Didn’t feel anything . After what he’d been through, watching Noah sitting there was just an inconvenience. He was scrambling for the right thing to say, like there was some magic fucking sentence that would make it okay. Like this was just another awkward conversation that could be smoothed over with the right words.
Pathetic .
Noah cleared his throat, getting the hint behind Kaj’s poisonous words, and changed the topic. “Do you… Do you already have the setlist decided?”
“Yeah.” Kaj shoved his phone into the cargo pocket of his pants and grabbed his drumsticks as he stepped on the bass drum pedal.
“Can you send me the list?”
Kaj clicked his tongue, ignoring Noah as he began to mark some basic, warm-up rhythm.
People said he was impulsive, abrasive, and blunt. In his opinion, he was just honest. There was no need for all this fake politeness. More so since he had no intention of showing this guy his good, albeit hidden, side—he had it, for real. He was pissed. Though Niels would say he was throwing a hissy fit because he didn’t get his way.
Once all the auditions had been finished, the band met with the manager and the record label’s minions. They’d discussed at length the top three out of ten vocalists that had made the cut and met their expectations—impeccable technique, attitude, charisma, vocal range, and ability to evoke emotions.
Unlike in other meetings, Kaj took part in the decision-making as he tried his best to avoid having to work with Noah—any of the dudes on the final list were incredible; he would never jeopardize the band over his own desires. But after what felt like forever, with a majority of votes, Noah ended up being The Chosen One . Of fucking course.
“Are you really gonna do this all the time?”
“What?” Kaj said without stopping what had slowly become an intricate pattern.
“Act like a dick to me.”
“Maybe.”
“Can you give me a hint of how long this is gonna last? Just so I know what to expect.” The exasperation was obvious in Noah’s tone.
“Until you give up.”
“You seriously can’t let go of whatever grudge you’re holding against me and focus on what truly matters here?”
Kaj didn’t answer.
It wasn’t a petty grudge. He simply didn’t want to be around the guy he’d given everything to just to see him smile, only to get his heart shattered in return.
He didn’t want to be around the guy who doubted him when he didn’t know how to put into words that he’d been abused. That he was being shamed about it at his own house to the point he felt like he was the one to blame. Sure, it had been too many years to still be mad about it. They’d been too young and na?ve to foresee someone they trusted could become that type of monster, but Kaj had never done anything for Noah to think he’d betray him, no matter what he saw. That it didn’t even occur to him that it hadn’t been consensual hurt.
He didn’t want to have to see the face of the man who made him feel weak.
Who brought out the worst in him.
Who didn’t fight for him and let him go.
The past should stay in the past.
Noah huffed. “What happened between us is ancient history, you should—”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Kaj’s tone dispassionately raised just above the sound of his drums. “You’re just an annoying papercut that never heals.”
“Does belittling me make you feel better about yourself? Because that’s pathetic.”
Kaj stopped playing, freezing halfway to the next beat, and left his drumsticks on the floor tom. Anger undulated inside of him as he clenched his jaw. He got up and strode toward Noah, towering over him when the tips of their sneakers touched.
“I don’t want you here.”
“You made that pretty clear the other day.”
“What are you waiting for, then?”
Noah huffed. “Just so you know, your shitty attitude is not going to make me change my mind. I’ve dealt with worse.”
“If you don’t like my attitude, you’re free to leave. No one’s forcing you to stay.”
“Whatever, dude.” Noah dragged his gaze to the wall on his left, crossing his arms as he reclined back on the couch.
He was either trying to put more distance between them or didn’t give a fuck about the way his presence made Kaj’s blood simmer.
“I’ve already signed the contract, so we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together,” Noah said, peering up at him. “You better get used to it.”
Kaj slid a knee between Noah’s thighs and propped on the back of the couch, hands on each side of his head. “You should’ve never agreed to this.” He grabbed the vocalist’s jaw, forcing his head up so he was looking him straight in the eye. “I know many ways to make life miserable for you.”
“And when exactly is that going to start happening?”
For a second, they stayed like that, trapped in a glaring contest. It felt as though Noah was measuring him, trying to read him. But that was not happening. For years, Kaj had built a fortress that prevented people from peeking into his mind. Only those who really knew him saw past it.
Kaj tightened the grip on his jaw, relishing the pain he knew he was causing when Noah winced. “Run now while you still have time. Unless you want me to turn you into my slut again.”
“Fuck off.” Noah swatted Kaj’s hand away and shoved his chest, making him stumble backward. He got up, touching his jaw, moving it from side to side. “I don’t care how hard you play. You’re not gonna ruin this for me.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Are you fucking five?”
Kaj shrugged unapologetically.
“That I hate getting caught up in stupid fights doesn’t mean I won’t bite back.” Noah’s voice sounded gritty, but his demeanor was so calm it rubbed Kaj the wrong way.
“I’d like to see that.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Is that a threat?” Kaj mocked.
“It’s a promise.”
As they both stepped forward, ready to jump at each other’s throats, the door creaked open. The instrumental music playing through the speakers in the corridor slipped in, lingering frozen in the air before the other two entered the room.
“You’re here!” Aksel said, hugging Noah and patting his back. Kaj didn’t miss the way he glanced in his direction—a silent apology. Did he hate that his friend was welcoming this man so effusively? Yeah, but there was nothing he could do. Aksel was a golden retriever in the body of a human being. Forcing him to stop acting as such would probably send him straight into a depression. “You excited?”
“Yeah.” Noah chuckled.
Kaj walked away and sat on his stool, acting like he hadn’t been close to punching their new vocalist in the face.
“All good?” Xander asked, glancing between him and Noah.
“Yeah,” Noah replied while Kaj shrugged. “I’m just nervous.”
“No need to be.” The bassist patted his shoulder. “You’ll do great. And even if it doesn’t work today, we have enough time.”
It took a few more minutes of small talk and pretending for the energy to shift among the four walls. There was still tension, and Noah’s warning glances from across the room only stoked the flames lashing inside Kaj, but he just let the scene unfold. No matter how much these guys were on his side, they were also professional, so there was no way they’d give Noah the cold shoulder or treat him like shit. That was Kaj’s job.
“What about we start with something easy so you can warm up those vocal cords, and then get full into the savagery?” Xander asked Noah.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Anything in particular you wanna play? We know a bunch of classics,” Aksel chimed in.
“Not really. Just whatever you do to jam before switching into practice mode.”
“Okay, here is the list of what we usually do before playing any of ours.”
Aksel handed Noah the wrinkled piece of paper where they’d written and crossed out the titles of the songs they used to warm up. Currently, they had “Until the World Goes Cold” by Trivium, “Consternation” by Katatonia, and “Flesh and the Power It Holds” by Death. It was the weirdest combination, but that was what made the band work. With their different tastes and musical backgrounds, they all brought something to the table. Every record was about growth. They didn’t like pigeonholing themselves into a box that narrowed the expectations of what they should sound like.
Their lyrical themes used to revolve around the human condition—violence, sorrow, betrayal, loss, despair, and change. Death and progressive metal were the spine of what they did, but if you listened closely, you’d catch influences of jazz, folk, groove, and doom metal carefully meshed with elements reminiscent of the early 2000s metalcore. That wide range and experimentation, along with their particular time signature, was precisely what defined them.
“Who added Katatonia?” Noah asked.
“Me,” Xander said, proud.
“Love them. The Great Cold Distance and Night is the New Day are both on my top ten albums. Dark as hell, perfect production, and amazing riffs.”
“Oh, no,” Aksel mumbled. “Don’t open that door.”
“My favorite was Brave Murder Day until Night is the New Day came out,” Xander said, ignoring the guitarist’s remark. Katatonia was by far his favorite band. “They just have such a consistent, distinct sound.”
“Right?” Noah’s grin widened.
Aksel cleared his throat. “Can we leave the nerdy talk for later?”
“Yes, sorry.” Xander chuckled, making Kaj’s skin crawl.
This wasn’t good. The bassist never got carried away like this. Not with someone he’d known for two seconds.
Aksel shook his head, a soft smile stretching his mouth. “Anyway, as I was saying, each of us chose a song—we shift them around every so often. You should add yours, too.”
“Is there anything in particular you won’t play or that you don’t like?” Noah asked.
“Hmm…” Xander touched his perfectly groomed beard as he looked up at the ceiling. “Not that comes to mind.”
“Would Meshuggah be okay?”
Aksel nodded. “Just send me the song and I’ll make the arrangements with our personal touch.”
“Great.”
“Let’s get to it then!”
Sliding the strap of his bass over his shoulder and plugging it, Xander strummed its strings, getting an answer from Aksel’s guitar as he slightly turned the pegs to tune it. Meanwhile, Noah tested the microphone. All of this happening under the intensity of Kaj’s frown. He hated that everything was flowing so well with a newcomer.
Kaj put in his earplugs and twirled the sticks on his fingers.
Despite the earlier bravado, he wasn’t sure for how long he’d be able to put up with this shit. Hostility was a default setting for him in the face of the unknown. Keeping a safe distance was the only way he felt safe and could control how much of himself he gave. That was one of the reasons he and Mads never worked. Why he couldn’t commit. Why most people thought he was unreachable. Why he hadn’t allowed Noah to get too close when they reunited years ago. But now they both were here, locked in the same room, sharing an old dream. It was already draining him.
The first chords of “Until the World Goes Cold” blasted through Aksel’s amp, snapping him back. Kaj then kicked the bass drum three times. Twelve seconds later, the strings of the bass vibrated, solidifying the melody as they built a whole different atmosphere.
Every note resonated through Kaj like a pulse. And suddenly, all the pressure in his chest disappeared as the turmoil of emotions transformed into smoke. Nothing could disrupt his peace.
Except one thing.
When Noah began to sing, the hairs on Kaj’s nape stood up. He’d heard him sing so many times while he was at the drums, he didn’t think playing together again would twist his stomach like this. It felt like a razor sliding down his throat. The punishment for his sins before being redeemed. He deserved it.
As they neared the chorus, Aksel backed Noah’s vocals, distracting him enough to make him lose the momentum.
“Seriously?” Kaj abruptly stopped playing.
“What?” Aksel asked, confused.
“His voice is offbeat.”
“Sorry.” That’s all Noah said as a soft shade of pink colored his cheeks.
“He just sang one line, and it threw you off like that?” Kaj tossed with calm disdain, pointing at Aksel with a drumstick while keeping his eyes on the vocalist.
“Dude,” Xander warned.
“You’re more of an amateur than we thought if this is the best you can do,” Kaj continued.
Noah glared at the drummer, but that only urged him on.
“A live performance is not like those little videos you make. You can’t stop and repeat when you fuck up. You have to let go, keep going, and improvise under the pressure of hundreds of people who expect nothing but the best. Maybe you’re not cut out for this, and the audition was just a fluke.”
“Oy!” Aksel interjected. “Don’t be an asshole. We haven’t even played one full song yet.”
“Exactly my point,” he retorted.
“We all have to adapt to each other,” Xander said.
Kaj scoffed. “We have two months to make this work, so he better get it fast. Or do you want that shit to happen at the first concert with everything that’s already going on? Our reputation is at stake.”
“It caught me off guard,” Noah said, as if the rebuke went in one ear for him. “I’ll be ready before the tour starts.” He offered Aksel and Xander an apologetic look before flashing an icy glare in Kaj’s direction. “Let’s go from the beginning.”
“That’s my man.” Aksel smiled at him, making the strings of his guitar vibrate.
Fuck. Kaj did hate Noah.