8. Broken Chords
Broken Chords
Evan
The front door slammed.
Evan stood frozen in the middle of the apartment, the echo ringing through the silence like a slap. The sharp click of the lock turning from the other side left no doubt that Sarah was gone.
Not just stormed off angry. Gone.
His hands fisted at his sides, helpless against the surge of everything: regret, panic, and the ache of things left unsaid.
The article. The photo. Her face when she looked at him like she didnt know him anymore.
He grabbed his phone, heart pounding, and dialed her number. Straight to voicemail.
Again. Still.
He pressed the phone to his forehead, willing himself to think. To do something. His breath came in short, shallow bursts. He began to pace, feet dragging across the floor like he was walking through fog. Each step echoed with the weight of everything hed left unsaid.
Instead, he found himself wandering into the studio.
The place that used to bring clarity now echoed with emptiness. The faint scent of old wood and amplifier dust clung to the air, a reminder of better days. The silence wasnt peaceful; it was hollow, too still, like the room itself had stopped listening.
He sat at the piano, but his fingers hovered above the keys, unmoving. There was a song there, unfinished like everything else, but the melody wouldnt come.
What had she said? Do you even see me? Or am I still just the nanny to you?
God. Shed meant every word.
He tried recording a voice message to send her. He started twice. Deleted both. The third one stuck raw, shaky.
"I was scared," he said into the mic. "You made it feel real, and that terrified me. But not having you here, thats worse. I never saw you as just the nanny. I see you. Every version. Even the parts you try to hide."
He hovered over the send button.
Then closed the app.
An hour later, Jonah showed up.
You look like hell, he said, stepping over a pile of lyric sheets.
Feel worse.
Jonah tossed a file on the counter. Heres the thing you dont want to hear right now: the storys gone viral. The photo. The press conference. Everything.
Evan let out a breath. What else is new?
Jonah folded his arms. You need to fix this. Fast.
Evan ran a hand through his hair. Shes not answering my calls.
So go find her. Or better yet, do something she cant ignore.
That idea burrowed in his head, sharp and reckless.
He turned toward the kitchen, eyes scanning for a plan he didnt have yet. Call the guys. I want a full rehearsal tonight. Bring cameras.
Jonah blinked. Youre dragging her into a reunion show?
No, Evan said. Im reminding her why this started. Why she matters. If the press wants a story, theyll get the real one. The one that counts.
By sunset, the studio was buzzing.
The band arrived, half skeptical, half thrilled.
There was Leo on lead guitar, cool-headed, inked, and effortlessly precise.
Bash handled the bass, tall and broad with a dry wit that could slice steel.
Finn, the drummer, showed up last as usual, tapping rhythms on his thighs like he was born keeping time.
And Kasey, the bands quiet genius on keys, had a softness that balanced their edge.
They hadnt played together in years, but the room buzzed like they never stopped.
Evan paced the rehearsal space, chewing on his thumbnail, nerves in full force.
Leo clapped him on the back. Are you sure about this? Youre playing with fire, man.
Evan nodded. Id rather get burned than keep pretending.
Finn muttered, Never thought Id see you sweating over a girl.
Evan managed a tight smile. Shes not just a girl. Shes the reason I remember who I am.
As they tuned and ran scales, the guys shot glances his way. Even Kasey finally spoke up, voice low and calm. This one matters. Dont screw it up.
Evan exhaled. Yeah. I know.
They ran through a few songs, the rhythm coming back in waves. The laughter was genuine, at least for a while. But Evans mind wasnt on the music. Not until he saw her.
Earlier, on the drive over, Piper had asked, Is Uncle Evan mad at you?
Sarah had gripped the steering wheel tighter. No, sweetheart. Were just figuring stuff out.
Piper had gone quiet. Then shed said, You should hug him. It makes him better.
Sarah entered with Piper in one arm and a guarded look in her eyes. Her grip on the little girl tightened, knuckles whitening for a second before she adjusted her hold. She hesitated just inside the doorway, eyes scanning the room like she was bracing for impact.
Jonah said you wanted us here, she said flatly.
Evan stepped forward. I did. I know you didnt want the spotlight, and I screwed that up. But this isnt about cameras. Its about letting you see everything.
Sarahs gaze flicked to the guitars, to the messy wires and mic stands. Ive seen the circus, Evan. Not sure I need a front-row seat.
He swallowed hard. Then just listen. Please.
She nodded stiffly and took a seat near the back. Piper sat on her lap, her arms wrapped tightly around Sarahs neck.
Before the song started, Sarah whispered in Pipers ear, Remember, no matter what happens, were okay.
Piper nodded seriously. Can we stay here after the song?
Sarah didnt answer.
He motioned to the guys and took his place behind the mic.
The song wasnt rehearsed. It wasnt even finished. But it was hers.
He strummed the opening chords, his voice catching as he began to sing:
She walked in quiet, but the world got loud / She steadied the storm, when I didnt know how...
Sarah stood frozen, her expression unreadable.
Leo let out a low whistle. Damn. You write that for her?
Bash leaned against his amp, arms crossed. No. He bled that one for her.
Kasey nodded, his fingers still resting on the keys. Best youve ever written, man.
Piper clapped her hands and twirled in the middle of the room. Thats my song!
The room softened. Even Sarah smiled just for a heartbeat.
Then Jonah walked back in, his face pale.
Evan. You need to see this.
He handed him a document, an official envelope with a bold, cold header:
Notice of Custody Challenge: Filed by Biological Parent.
Evans stomach dropped. A cold pressure gripped his chest, stealing the air from his lungs. His hands curled into fists at his sides as the room tilted ever so slightly, like the world had just shifted beneath his feet.
Sarah stepped forward, voice already trembling. What is that?
He couldnt speak.
Jonah answered for him. Pipers biological mother is contesting guardianship. Its real.
Sarah gasped. Piper looked up between them, confused.
Whats going on? she asked.
Nothing you need to worry about, sweetheart, Sarah said quickly, pulling her close.
Evan finally spoke. Why now?
Jonah exhaled. Shes got a team of lawyers. Expensive ones. My guess? Someone from the press tipped her off. Or worse, someone at the label.
Shes never wanted anything to do with Piper, Sarah said. Why the hell now?
Shes citing Evans unstable lifestyle, Jonah added grimly. Photos. Touring. Media exposure.
Evan sank into a chair, running his hands over his face.
Piper walked to him and tugged on his sleeve. Are you still my family?
His throat tightened. He looked up at Sarah, whose face was stricken with shock and something else, fear.
He pulled Piper into his lap. Always, kiddo. Always.
His arms tightened around her tiny frame as a wave of memory crashed into him the day the court signed the paperwork, the quiet echo of their footsteps down the hall, Piper clutching his hand, her other arm wrapped around her dinosaur.
Shed looked up at him, eyes too big and knowing for a child, and asked, Do I live with you now?
He nodded, throat locked with emotion. And she smiled, said, Good. You dont yell when I draw on the wall.
That was the moment. The one that had settled deep in his chest and never left.
Sarahs eyes glistened, but she didnt speak.
She looked between the custody notice and the band. Then at Evan.
What do we do now? she asked.
Evan stood, wrapping his arms around both of them. We fight. We fight like hell.
Later, after everyone had gone home and the lights dimmed in the studio, Evan sat alone at the piano.
The bench creaked beneath him, cool and unyielding, as silence wrapped around him like a second skin.
The air smelled faintly of sweat, sawdust, and something older like memory and dust in the walls.
A single piece of crayon paper lay on the bench beside him, Pipers drawing.
He picked it up. Studied the stick figures. The rainbow. The heart.
He placed it gently beside the keys and played the melody again.
This time, it came out different.
Slower. Heavier. But honest.
If I lose her, he whispered, I lose the only thing that ever made sense.
He closed his eyes.
And kept playing.
The melody echoed through the rafters, no longer a lullaby or a love song but something else. Something raw. A battle cry. A vow.
Outside, the night pressed against the windows.
Inside, Evan played like the music could hold them together.