Seven
Kaj’s penthouse apartment buzzed with excitement as the band, crew, close friends, and family celebrated the successful acceptance of Artificial Suicide’s new vocalist.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights across the river twinkled like stars, matching the euphoric mood inside. Non-alcoholic beer and soda flowed freely, the air filled with laughter, soft metal music in the background, animated chatter, and the smell of pizza as they opened the boxes that had just arrived.
To say they all had been holding their breath during the last few months, worried about what would happen after the accusations against Emil became public knowledge, was an understatement. Whenever the new direction they wanted to take was brought up, one or the other would voice their concerns, but nobody delved too deep into the matter. The reality of it irreversibly hurting their reputation and everything they had worked for over the past fourteen years was like an elephant in a china shop. Clumsy. Loud. Disastrous.
Was Kaj happy with their decision to bring Noah into his life again? In case it wasn’t clear yet, no. He wasn’t happy at all. That they were hanging out at his apartment and Noah was the main event was only because they always had small kick-off parties here.
However, Kaj had to admit that Noah had demonstrated he was a lot more than an amazing vocalist. He was also an incredible creative and charismatic business partner. The camera loved him, and so did their fans.
Their social media manager had started posting teasers of the live session as soon as Val was done editing the video. People were soon foaming at the mouth with it, and when it was posted three week later, it blew up. There had been some nasty comments, as expected, but most of their audience was supportive of their decision to kick Emil out of the band. That Noah was such a beast had definitely helped.
“Fuck! That riff… I’ve listened to this song a million times, and it never gets old,” Frederik, their guitar tech, praised while the video played on the massive TV Kaj had in his living room. “So damn good.” He let out a moan, feigning a shiver as he gnawed at his bottom lip.
Kaj chuckled, shaking his head as he took a bite of his pepperoni pizza slice. The team was formed of people between their thirties and fifties, yet when they gathered all together, even without alcohol running through their veins, they were a walking comedy. Seriously, their kids—those adorable miniature monsters—high on sugar were better mannered than them. The proof was right there, in Kaj’s cinema-gaming room, where all the kiddos between six and eleven were watching Pixar movies on a loop—the few in their teens said their parents embarrassed them and rarely came to these parties. Fair .
“But wait, wait…” Markus, the bass tech, chimed in as the interlude faded and they kicked off the beat again. “Fuuuck!” When Noah’s roar blasted through the speakers, he let himself fall on the couch. “S?rensen, you beautiful vocal powerhouse, this tour is going to be amazeballs!” He gulped down his drink.
Val, who was sitting on one of the stools around the kitchen island, raised his non-alcoholic beer in a toast, and everyone else mimicked him. “To Noah!”
“For saving our asses from what could have been a PR nightmare,” Xander added with a huge smile painted across his face.
“And to that one million views!” Niels said.
“Hear, hear!” Aksel cheered, clinking a knife against his beer bottle and gesturing toward Noah.
The vocalist ducked his head modestly, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Noah was now the frontman of one of the most prominent extreme metal bands of the moment. Kaj had no doubts he’d leave mouths hanging open when they’d get on stage, but apparently, he still hated talking in public.
“I don’t know what to say other than thank you ,” Noah started. “Thank you for trusting me. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d be part of this.”
“You deserve it.” Xander patted his shoulder and hugged him to his side.
“You fucking killed it,” Aksel said. “Look at that end.” He pointed at the TV just as the outro hit. “Insane!”
The group cheered and whistled, clinking glasses and bottles. They were ready for this new era.
The bustle slowly eased into relaxed conversations as the big, chosen family that they were started fluttering around the open space in smaller groups, laughing with some of the kids as they came looking for more pizza, talking, and simply enjoying the moment. Everyone looked happy, satisfied with the extra effort they’d all put in during the last few months to keep this boat floating. One of the scariest parts of the storm had finally passed.
Niels approached the kitchen island with Noah, reminding him how from now on he should be careful about what he posted online. “You should also make sure there are no family pictures or tags that can lead to them.”
“Already did that.”
“Good. I swear, some people are nutcases and will try to dig up dirt from anywhere.”
“I can’t think of a reason anyone would go that crazy over my persona, but better safe than sorry, yeah.”
“Trust me. I have been in this industry for years and have seen all kinds of shit but never had to deal with an erotomaniac case like those you read about in the press until this one joined the band,” Niels told Noah, throwing his thumb in Kaj’s direction. “Finn and I”—he gestured toward his assistant, who was laughing his ass off with the tour and production managers—“usually handle all this stuff ourselves. But someone was so fixated on our drummer boy here that, even after reporting it to the police, we were forced to hire around-the-clock protection for him.”
“Okay, that’s messed up.” With his brows pinched in concern, Noah looked at Kaj, who simply shrugged before going back to talking with Val and Mads. More like to pretend he did, his attention still on the other two. “And how did that end?”
“One day it all stopped,” Niels said, sighing as he grabbed another slice of pizza. “We have a theory that either they died, ended up in jail, or got bored and found a new target. It’s just how it usually goes. That or there’s… an unfavorable outcome for the victim.”
“Well, that’s good then, I guess.”
“We still receive disgusting notes, but we have it all more controlled. Don’t worry too much about it, though. That was the only over-the-top case I’ve seen. It rarely ever gets that bad, but you can never be careful enough.”
So politically correct.
Kaj wasn’t the only one who had been harassed, but his case had escalated so quickly it set a precedent, leading them to install high-tech security systems in all of their four homes.
A few months after he had joined Artificial Suicide, he started receiving letters from both haters and fans. Yet there was a particular type of prose that stood out. It went from worshipping to describing how they wanted to tie him up and never allow him to see the light of day again so easily it was daunting. They’d sent flowers, chocolates, and drawings of him in compromising sexual positions that triggered him several times.
The worst was when this person sneaked into his old apartment while they were on tour and covered the walls in his bedroom with photos of him at the gym, grocery shopping, at the bar with the guys…
Even after Kaj moved into this penthouse, with a doorman, twenty-four-seven surveillance, and all, he’d been paranoid for a long time. The tension in his body barely allowed him to sleep a few hours in one go. He would wake up agitated, with palpitations and the sensation of someone watching him constricting his rib cage. It was nerve-racking, and ultimately, it pushed Kaj to use heavier drugs often, something he didn’t do before.
Just thinking about it now made Kaj swallow with difficulty.
Good thing the level of harassment since then had been within the normalcy of this job, as sad as that sounded.
Once Noah and Niels walked away, Kaj finally relaxed, but he still couldn’t go back to the conversation with Val and Mads—they were talking about pizza being shitty anywhere but Italy, or something along those lines. His brain and heart were drowning in resentment and bad memories while his dick only wanted to indulge itself.
Except for that one encounter in the rehearsal room when his body inappropriately reacted to Noah, this battle was usually won by reasoning. Tonight, however, he found himself at a crossroads.
Under a black-and-white tartan shirt, Noah was wearing a silly grey tee with a cat holding a knife and “What?” written under it, a pair of skinny black jeans, and some worn boots. Still, he was so infuriatingly hot Kaj couldn’t help but track his every movement. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. The stubbornness of the strands always falling over his forehead, no matter how many times he slicked his hair back. How his muscles flexed, stretching the fabric of the shirt when he brought the glass to his lips.
Why?
Why, out of the eight billion people in the world, did it have to be him? Seriously, what were the chances of their former vocalist turning into someone who doesn’t understand boundaries and this man replacing him? It was as if the universe was mocking Kaj, forcing Noah on him time and time again.
Kaj turned around, nursing an orange soda as he tried to avoid seeing Noah laughing with Xander and part of their crew. If he couldn’t see him, he didn’t exist, right?
“Earth to Kaj,” Dahlia, Aksel’s best friend, called, waving a hand in front of his face. “You gonna join the party or just brood all night?”
Kaj grunted. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Barely.” She flashed him one of her sweetest smiles, dimples and all, as she poured lemon soda into her glass. “Wanna talk about what’s making your eyebrows furrow all the time?”
Although she was as eye-catching as Aksel—tall and beautiful with stunning grey eyes and short pink pixie hair that enhanced her oval face—their personalities couldn’t be more different. Where he was loud and reckless, she was quiet and caring. He was super talented in the music department, but couldn’t draw a straight line to save his life. However, Dahlia’s job consisted mostly of studying and illustrating flora and fauna at the Museum of Natural History. Yet, they were inseparable.
Dahlia and Aksel had been each other’s rock when they practically lived in the streets—that foster home they’d been at couldn’t be called a home .
They had been together through the worst, including her breast cancer diagnosis over a year and a half ago, when Aksel had her move in with him. It’d been so aggressive the doctors didn’t think she would survive, but against all odds, after surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy that had her feeling sick more days than not, she was still here, healthy as ever. And fuck, Kaj felt so relieved. She was an amazing friend and support, one of the few people that kept them grounded.
“Not really, but thanks.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressed her to his body in a side hug, and kissed her temple.
“And now I feel jealous.” Aksel chuckled from beside them. “Can I get a kiss, too? It’s been a while.” He batted his eyelashes at him, making Kaj forget for one sweet second that Noah was around.
It happened within the entire crew, but especially between Aksel and Kaj. They were so comfortable with their sexuality and friendship that cheesy pet names and butt slaps were thrown here and there. The guitarist was right, though. Kaj had been so in his head since the beginning of the year that he’d actually been cold and distant with him.
“Feeling neglected?” Kaj smirked.
Aksel’s brows shot up to his hairline, probably expecting some rude comeback. “You have no idea!” He hugged him and rubbed his cheek against his shoulder. “Missed that.”
“Jeez…” Dahlia said. “You’re so needy.”
“Go jump off a cliff,” Aksel facepalmed her.
“Idiot! I almost spilled soda everywhere.”
Kaj chuckled, shaking his head.
Then Frederik smacked the guitarist’s ass, startling the three of them. “Come play with us.” He wiggled his brows.
“Why do you have to make everything sound filthy?” Aksel said, taking the glass Dahlia was handing him.
“I didn’t say anything. That’s you and your dirty mind.” Frederik laughed. “Let’s bring out the worst in you.”
At this point, Cards Against Humanity was a tradition when they were all together. Since they tried to respect Kaj’s limits with alcohol to help him in his recovery, they needed to find something else to make their nights ethically questionable, and this game that facilitated harmless consensual transgression of social boundaries was funny and exciting enough to do that. Having kids in the next room added a sense of risk to it in lieu of riding a bicycle with their eyes closed in the middle of some festival grounds to see how long they could do it—they were maturing.
“I think I’m gonna pass,” Kaj said.
“You’re a party pooper, Larsen.”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know how you’re not sick of him already,” Fredrik told Mads.
“Me neither.” He flashed Kaj a wicked grin.
Assclown.
Dahlia offered Kaj a knowing look and followed Frederik and Aksel back to the living room area. Mindlessly, as the drummer watched them walk away, his eyes landed on Noah. And just like that, the cloud that had loomed over him for weeks returned, along with the bitterness on his tongue and the pressure in his chest. Fuck him .
“Looking a bit murderous,” Mads mumbled, sidling up next to him with his ass resting on the counter.
“Huh?”
“You’re glaring at Noah like he pissed in your boots.”
“Shut up,” Kaj grunted, but there was no real heat behind it.
Mads chuckled. “Why are you so moody? The video turned out great and so far everyone is loving it. It’s like Emil barely exists anymore. You should be happy.”
“And I am.” Kaj looked at him with a forced grin, probably looking more like Jack Torrance from The Shining than an actual happy person.
“Ehm… No. But you know what I’ve noticed?”
“What?” Kaj sighed, not really wanting to hear it.
The drummer knew him well. Mads would offer his insight even if he said no, and the mocking expression he was wearing meant he was up to no good. So it was probably something stupid, ridiculous, or ridiculously stupid.
“The unresolved sexual tension between you and Noah.”
“Don’t start,” Kaj warned.
Mads glanced over at Noah, then back at Kaj. “I think he still has a thing for you, too.”
“I think you’re delirious.” Kaj rolled his eyes, fingers tightening around his glass.
“He’s been sneaking glances at you almost as much as you’ve been throwing daggers at him.”
“Cut the crap—”
Mads cupped Kaj’s nape and surged forward, cutting his witty remark when he pressed their lips together. Kaj froze. The kiss was the complete opposite of sexy. It was dry, chaste, and brief, but long enough for the orangutans taking up his apartment to holler.
“Get a room!”
“What the hell was that about?” Kaj hissed.
But Mads wasn’t looking at him. His gaze was fixed somewhere past Kaj’s back, a triumphant grin spread across his face as he subtly tipped his head to the side.
Kaj turned around to look in the direction his friend was gesturing, only to be met with Noah’s unreadable expression. Though he could have sworn he saw a flicker of something behind his impassiveness—hurt or maybe jealousy. That was impossible.
“Just proving my point,” Mads replied. “Did you see his face? He’s definitely still into you, somehow. For reasons I can’t understand.”
“Or maybe he’s disgusted by your juvenile antics,” Kaj retorted. “In case you didn’t get the memo, we’re not in high school.”
As he berated Mads, Kaj glanced back at Noah, who had quickly averted his gaze.
“You can keep denying it if you want, but that little stunt was the detonator you needed. You’re welcome.” Mads clapped Kaj on the shoulder and sauntered off to join the others.
Kaj’s eyes then glided toward Noah. He stared at him for longer than was socially acceptable. The vocalist was engaged in an animated conversation with Xander and Dahlia. Yet there was a tightness in his shoulders that wasn’t there before.
Kaj shook his head and turned his back to them.
He didn’t care whether Mads was right or not. Couldn’t care. The road that had brought them here was doomed. What Kaj had done to Noah that night eight years ago, despite all the wrongs he’d done before, was unforgivable. He didn’t understand how Noah could be in the same room with him. Work with him. The mere sound of his stepbrother’s voice had made Kaj throw up even years after the assault. The smell of that cologne. The festive atmosphere during Christmas. It all made him feel nauseous. And the way he had ignored Noah’s pleas that one time… Kaj shivered.
Unsure of what to do with himself and these matted memories, Kaj choked down the remaining half of his soda and went to the closet by the entrance to grab his jacket. He desperately wanted another drink—a real one that would knock him out—but that was a dangerous path. Instead, with his gaze half-focused, dull with the turmoil swirling inside, he strode toward the terrace. He needed to clear his mind.
They’d be flying to Toronto in a week for a tour that would cross the Americas during the next month and a half. Then they had another three months of gigs scattered all over Europe for the summer festivals round.
With this strange sensation wrapping around his throat, the longing clogging his heart, and the overwhelming desire filling his balls, he slid the glass door open. The cool night air was a nice respite from the stuffy apartment, but as soon as Kaj breathed in and puffed up, he deflated. He wasn’t alone. Noah was there, elbows leaning on the railing, mindlessly twirling the empty glass in his hand, ice cubes rattling against each other. He was the last person Kaj wanted to deal with now, but before he could turn away, Noah glanced over his shoulder, his expression hardening when he saw him.
“Don’t let me stop you,” he clipped, gesturing with his palm up.
Kaj quirked an eyebrow. The uneasiness Kaj was feeling a second ago twisted, turning into something completely different. Something vile .
He moved to stand at the railing a meter away from him, pulled out the packet of tobacco he kept in the pocket of his bomber, and lit it, inhaling deeply. Minutes passed, wrapping them in a tight embrace of discomfort and reluctance.
“You and Mads, huh?” Noah said, breaking the silence. “Didn’t think you’d still be together.”
Kaj wasn’t looking at him, but he could sense the tension in Noah’s body as they both stared into the horizon.
Smirking, Kaj blew out a cloud of smoke. “What are you talking about?”
“Please.” Noah scoffed.
“That wasn’t—” Kaj started, then stopped. He didn’t owe this man any explanation, and he definitely didn’t need his approval. Besides, the bitter edge in his drawl was delicious. Chuckling, he decided that he’d toy with Noah before letting him off the hook. “Someone sounds awfully bothered by a little friendly peck. Jealous, S?rensen?”
“I couldn’t care less.”
Kaj flicked ash from his cigarette. “Why bring it up then?”
“Just making some small talk.”
“And you have nothing better to talk about than my sexual life?” Kaj took a drag and exhaled, looking at Noah out of the corner of his eye. Fuck . He loved getting under his skin.
With a huff, Noah let his head hang down. “I’m tired of this tug-of-war you keep pushing on me. Why can’t we talk like adults?”
“Because.” Kaj shrugged.
“You know,” Noah said, looking at Kaj. “I don’t understand how Mads can put up with your bullshit.”
Amused by his poorly hidden annoyance, Kaj raised a questioning eyebrow.
“I noticed how hard you were a few weeks ago when I pushed you into the wall. Right before you licked my mouth?”
“So?”
“It’s fucked up that you’re trying to play the same game again.”
Kaj’s eyes narrowed, a flare of anger igniting inside him. “What exactly are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying you’re a selfish manwhore. You’re dating Mads, but still want to fuck me on the side like before?” Noah shook his head.
“Even if we were the last two people standing on this planet, I wouldn’t consider fucking you again.” Lies . Kaj took another drag and slowly let the smoke out. “And for the record, although what I do or with who is none of your business, Mads and I aren’t together.” Why did I just tell him that?
“Could’ve fooled me.” Noah rolled his eyes.
“What is it that bothers you so much, anyway? That we’re not dating but still hook up?” More lies. “Or that my dick isn’t up your ass right now?”
“You want the truth or some watered-down white lie?”
Kaj’s jaw twitched.
“ You . Your arrogance and the way you use everyone like we’re just pawns in your damn playground is what pisses me off.”
Kaj put out the stub of his cig on the ashtray attached to the railing, smoke seeping out of his nostrils. “I warned you I’d be a pain in the ass. Didn’t I?”
“Congrats on being a jerk. Do you want a medal or something?”
“I’m barely getting started.” Kaj stepped closer to Noah, invading his personal space. “You have no idea what you’ve signed up for.”
“I think I do after the last two months,” Noah bit back, matching his energy.
Kaj let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t think you do.”
Chest to chest, Kaj could feel the heat radiating off Noah, his heart racing and his breath hitching. Bergamot. Lavender. Sandalwood. It was the same fragrance from a decade ago, and it made Kaj salivate. Something dark, warped, and restless scraped his bones, making him feel more alive than he’d been in the last few years.
“If you think I was fucked up before”—Kaj’s lips hovered over Noah’s ear—“you should try me now.”
Noah’s eyes flashed with defiance when Kaj looked back into them. But then, for a fraction of a second, they flicked down to Kaj’s lips. Kaj debated whether to throw himself off the balcony or beat the shit out of Noah. How could his body betray him like that after Kaj had forced himself onto him? How could Noah still even remotely want him after he’d trespassed his boundaries?
“Stay the fuck away from me,” Noah snarled, bumping Kaj’s shoulder with his as he walked past him.
Watching Noah storm back inside, Kaj realized his heart was pounding so hard it could very well rip his chest open.
Slowly, he turned and gripped the railing, knuckles turning white as he breathed in deeply. What the hell was he thinking, getting in Noah’s face? The conflict wafting inside him like poisonous gas was driving him mad, yet he couldn’t help it. He wanted to hurt Noah, but also kiss, bite, and choke him as he bred him. Mark him. The wrongness of Noah wanting it, too, was both arousing and repulsing.
I’m certifiable.
With shaky hands, Kaj lit another cigarette, the nicotine doing little to calm his frayed nerves.
He was not going to fucking survive the tour.