Chapter Thirty-Six
Caleb
Five weeks have passed since the accident, and I’m moving around a hell of a lot better. I still get the occasional sharp twinge of pain if I twist too quickly or overdo things, but at least I can walk by myself, and Indi doesn’t have to do absolutely everything for me anymore.
She’s been incredible through all of this.
Somehow, despite the pain, the exhaustion, and the frustration of recovery, we’ve grown even closer.
Spending every day together has changed us.
Sure, we’ve had visitors and gone out a few times, but for the most part, we’ve been inseparable, and I have no idea what I’m going to do once she goes back to work full-time.
The hospital has called her in a few times already, and every single time, she looked hesitant to leave me.
I always made her go, reassuring her I’d be completely fine on my own.
Even though one time, after she left, I got so dizzy walking back from the bathroom that I collapsed onto the floor and couldn’t get back up for nearly an hour.
I never told her, though. There was no point worrying her when she already had enough on her plate. Besides, it was my own stupid fault for pushing myself too hard and draining what little energy I had left.
But today?
Today feels different.
Today I’m excited.
For the last four weeks, music has been completely missing from my life, and I’ve hated every second of it.
Last week, Rob told us we were finally starting work on the new album, The New Era.
Indi drove me to Oxfordshire a couple of times for rehearsals, and while it felt amazing being back with the band, it also completely wiped me out.
Singing takes more out of me than I expected right now.
I’m hoping the studio will be easier because I can work at my own pace without feeling like I’m dragging everyone else down.
Ella has been the most supportive through all of this.
She’s more worried about my recovery than the album and even admitted she didn’t think we should record while I was still healing because she wanted me to be fully healthy first. But I know Staked needs to keep moving forward, and recording now makes the most sense.
That way, when I’m properly recovered, we can focus completely on touring instead of disappearing into a studio halfway through.
Annie was immediately on board with recording, though I think part of her is excited to be back in a studio environment again. I know she loves and cares deeply about me, but sometimes Annie gets so caught up in her own emotions that she forgets to look at the bigger picture.
Still, I’d rather do this now than stop mid-tour later.
Which is why Indi and I are currently pulling into Abbey Road Studios so we can record in the same building where Dad and Uncle Colt recorded their first album.
We technically already have a demo album out, but it wasn’t done professionally in a studio, so even though this is our second album, it feels like our real first one.
“Excited?” Indi asks as she parks the car.
“Nervous as hell,” I admit honestly. “What if my voice sounds like shit now after all this?”
She looks over at me like I’m ridiculous. “Babe, having your spleen removed doesn’t affect your vocal cords.”
I huff quietly but stay sitting there while she unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the door. A second later, she pauses and looks back at me. “You coming?”
Suddenly, every insecurity I’ve shoved down over the last four weeks comes crashing right back up to the surface.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” she asks gently.
“What if this flops?”
Her eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“What if the album flops? What if nobody likes it? What if nobody likes us?”
Indi stares at me for a second before slowly tilting her head and exhaling through her nose.
“Seriously?” she asks. “Caleb McCormack-Slade? The world’s cockiest, most arrogant, self-assured arsehole is suddenly worried people won’t like his music?
” I slump slightly against the seat and sigh.
“Caleb, there’s a reason you’re that cocky,” she says firmly.
“It’s because you’re fucking talented. No…
scratch that. You’re incredible at what you do. ”
I look over at her as she keeps going, her voice growing more passionate with every word.
“You, Annie, Ella, Aston, and Chad make music that people feel. You create songs that make people dance, cry, laugh, sing, and fall in love… you move people, Caleb. The stuff you create matters. You don’t just make noise, you make magic! ”
My throat tightens slightly.
“You are a real rockstar,” she says softly but firmly. “So stop sitting there sulking and start acting like the fucking rock god we all know you are.”
I stare at her for a moment before grinning. “I fucking love you, you know that?”
“Yep,” she says instantly while climbing out of the car. “Now get the fuck out and go sing to me, rockstar.”
I laugh quietly while undoing my seatbelt. Somehow, with just a few words, she’s managed to shove all that confidence right back into my chest where it belongs.
Maybe I am cocky sometimes, but maybe I’ve earned the right to be. And right now, thanks to Indi, I actually believe that again.
Getting out of the car, I feel stronger than I have in weeks. Not physically—my body still aches if I move too fast—but mentally, emotionally, like Indi somehow reached into the darkness in my head and turned the fucking lights back on.
Thank God for her. Seriously.
Once I’m steady on my feet, she takes my hand. “Right,” she says with a smile. “Let’s go.”
Together we walk toward the studio entrance, and the second we step inside, I’m hit with a wave of awe.
This place is legendary.
The walls practically hum with musical history, and knowing Dad and Colt stood here years ago recording their first album makes this whole thing feel surreal. We head toward the room where we’re supposed to meet everyone, and the second we walk through the doors, I freeze.
Everyone is here.
Mum, Dad, Colt, Dee, Johnny, Anna, Dingo, Sia, and of course, my band.
Two generations of music all standing together in one room.
Pride floods through me so hard it almost steals my breath.
The second they notice me, everyone starts clapping.
I laugh awkwardly and furrow my brows. “What the hell is this?”
“Welcome back to music, Caleb,” Rob says with a grin. “We know today’s going to be slow going, but we’re damn glad Staked is getting back on track.”
Indi gently guides me further into the room, and I glance over at Dad.
The look on his face nearly destroys me.
He’s grinning so hard his cheeks must hurt, and pride is practically radiating off him in waves.
For a second, I’m not a rockstar, a frontman, or some guy recovering from a near-fatal accident.
I’m just his son.
And he looks proud as hell of me.
“Right,” Rob says, clapping his hands together. “Shall we get started?”
I glance over at my bandmates, and every single one of them is watching me, waiting for me to lead the way.
And standing here now, I realize just how empty life felt without music these last few weeks.
Even with Indi by my side and our relationship finally feeling solid again, something was missing.
Something inside me felt incomplete.
But now?
Standing here with my girl beside me, my family surrounding me, and music back where it belongs in my life… everything finally feels right again.
Today is going to fucking rock.
***
After laying down two tracks, I’m utterly exhausted. It’s taken the entire day, and everyone keeps assuring me it’s normal and not because I constantly need breaks every hour to recover. But honestly, who knows if they’re just trying to make me feel better?
Indi was supportive the whole time, but fuck me, she was in full nurse mode today.
Every time I so much as flinched or shifted awkwardly, she’d stop what she was doing and rush over to check on me.
Annie started getting snappy about it after a while because she thought Indi was babying me too much, but everyone else seemed to think it was adorable how protective she was.
As for me? I thought it was pretty damn adorable.
Every time we paused recording for a break, Indi would sneak over and quietly tell me how good I sounded singing the chorus, or how one particular lyric made her heart flutter.
Hearing her say shit like that filled me with so much pride I couldn’t stop smiling afterward.
I already love singing more than anything in the world, but singing while Indi watches me?
While she looks at me like I’m something incredible? That somehow makes it even better.
Now all we need is for this album to sell well enough that we can play Wembley one day, so I can finally sing to her in a crowd the way I promised her when we were kids.
And I fully intend on keeping that promise.
We finally wrap up for the day, and Dad walks over while Dee talks animatedly with Indi nearby. I smile watching them because, honestly, everyone loves Indi. It’s impossible not to. Even Dee absolutely adores her.
“I’m proud of you,” Dad says, dragging my attention back to him.
“Thanks, Dad,” I reply. “I know I was a bit slower today, but just being back in a studio with the band again…” I glance around Abbey Road and shake my head slightly. “And having all of 12GAUGE-Slayed here with us? It’s honestly kind of surreal. It’s an honor.”