51. Bailey
bailey
. . .
Ihad been feeling slightly anxious since Rachel was here last, she told me she thought my label was up to something after our performance at the awards show.
So when I see her name flash across my phone, I brace myself.
The second I answer the phone her sigh crackles through the speaker and my stomach drops immediately.
“What happened?”
“Your label found a loophole.”
I close my eyes briefly and lean harder against the kitchen counter while Noah and Thomas argue over barbecue sauce outside on the deck.
“What kind of loophole?”
Rachel hesitates just long enough for dread to crawl all the way up my spine.
“Because Wild Again was categorized as a collaborative project due to the percentage of featured artists, co-writing and co-production involvement…” She exhales sharply.
“They’re claiming it doesn’t fulfill your final solo album obligation. ”
I actually laugh, not because it’s funny. Because I am so fucking exhausted I don’t know what else to do anymore.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
After everything I gave them, everything they took from me and then everything they pushed me through after Sadie died. And it still isn’t enough.
“They want another album,” Rachel says quietly. “One more full record and then you’re free.”
Free. The word feels ugly now. Like something people sell instead of something real.
I drag a hand over my face trying to hold onto my temper.
“I hate them.”
“I know.”
“No, Rachel.” My voice shakes harder now. “I genuinely hate them.”
Silence crackles between us for a second. Then, “I know, Bailey. I am so sorry. I tried everything I could think of.”
The anger sits hot and sharp beneath my skin long after the call ends. I stand there in the kitchen staring out the window while laughter drifts in from outside and all I can think is, they still own pieces of me. Even now.
They still want more.
I shove away from the counter before I can spiral completely and head toward the studio almost on instinct. Because lately whenever I don’t know what to do…
I look for Luke. The realization still catches me off guard sometimes. How natural that’s become again.
The studio door is cracked slightly open when I get there and music spills softly into the warm evening air. I stop immediately when I hear Luke. Just his beautiful raw voice and his guitar. I stay outside the door listening, not wanting to interrupt.
“And the song we lost still echoes through these walls
Somewhere between who we were and who we became through it all
In the innocence we gave away
In the parts they took and we let change
It still lives somewhere underneath
The song we lost never really leaves”
My chest aches at the pain in his voice.
I take a careful step closer and see Luke.
He sits alone on the stool beneath the soft yellow studio lights, head lowered slightly while his fingers move absently over the strings like the music lives somewhere inside him now instead of something he has to chase.
I suck in a breath and cover my mouth to keep quiet.
I love this man.
The thought arrives suddenly and completely without fear attached to it this time. It doesn't feel painful or complicated anymore, it just is. Just true.
The floorboard creaks beneath my foot and Luke glances up instantly. The second he sees me his whole expression softens.
“There you are.”
Three simple words and somehow they still undo me.
I lean against the doorway crossing my arms loosely. “Are you hiding out here?”
Luke smiles slightly. “Maybe.”
I walk inside slowly while the last guitar notes fade around us. The studio feels different lately too. Less haunted. Like music belongs here again instead of pain. Luke watches my face carefully as I move closer.
“What happened?”
I blink once. “How do you always know something happened?”
“You get this little line between your eyebrows when you’re angry.”
I immediately frown harder just to annoy him. Luke huffs out a laugh and I realize how much I have missed that sound. My anger softens slightly just standing near him. Which honestly feels unfair.
“I talked to Rachel.”
Luke’s expression shifts instantly. “What’s wrong?”
I move toward the piano before sitting on the bench with a frustrated groan. “My label found a loophole.”
His jaw tightens immediately.
“They’re saying Wild Again doesn’t count as my final album because of all the collaborations.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” he grinds out.
“Apparently not.” The rage comes rushing back immediately. “They want another album, Luke.” I laugh bitterly. “Like somehow everything I already gave them wasn’t enough.”
He stays quiet for a second before setting the guitar carefully aside. “Come here.”
The words come so naturally now. Like we’ve both stopped fighting the pull between us.
I move automatically until I’m standing between his knees while he sits on the stool.
Luke’s hands settle lightly against my hips, grounding and warm.
Mine slid into his hair without thinking.
The casual intimacy between us still feels fragile and monumental all at once.
“I hate them,” I whisper again.
Luke nods slowly. “I know.”
“No seriously. I want to burn the entire industry to the ground.”
His mouth twitches slightly.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I remember.”
I look away immediately because he’s right. I almost did.
A few quiet seconds pass before I ask softly, “Why did you stop me?”
Luke’s fingers tighten slightly against my waist when he asks, “At the awards?”
I nod.
His eyes search mine carefully before he answers. “Because that wasn’t you.”
Emotion catches painfully in my throat.
“That was your grief,” he says quietly. “Your anger. Your pain.” His thumb brushes slowly against my hip. “And you had every right to feel all of it.”
I swallow hard. “But?”
“But eventually the grief would’ve settled enough for you to see clearly again.” His voice softens. “And I think destroying everything publicly would’ve hurt you more than it hurt them.”
The honesty in it hits deep because he’s not judging me. He’s protecting me.
Luke tilts his head slightly trying to catch my eyes again. “You know what I think you should do?”
“What?” I ask, almost mesmerized by his dark blue eyes.
“Tell the truth,” he says with a soft smile.
I blink.
He continues softly, “Talk to Rachel. Find out exactly what they’re demanding, exactly what’s left in the contract. Get all of it on paper.”
“And then?”
“Then write the album.”
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “You cannot seriously be telling me to cooperate with these people.”
“I’m telling you to stop letting them control the narrative,” he replies.
That shuts me up.
Luke’s hands slide gently up my back, as he says, “Don’t give them rage songs meant to self-destruct your career.” His eyes lock on mine steadily. “Give them your truth.”
“They want another album?” he says quietly. “Fine. Then give them the real Bailey Brooks. Not the version they tried to turn you into.”
Emotion swells hard and sharp in my throat. Because even after everything… Luke is still the person who sees me clearest.
“What if I can’t do it?” I whisper.
His expression softens instantly. “You know you can.”
“I can’t do it alone.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Luke doesn’t even hesitate. “I’ll help.” My breath catches, but he doesn’t stop, “You never have to do another thing alone if you don’t want to.”
My eyes burn immediately. Before I can think too hard about it I lean forward and kiss him. It’s soft at first. Then deeper when his hand slides against the side of my neck and he exhales shakily into my mouth like he still can’t believe this is real either.
Luke pulls back just enough for our foreheads to rest together while we both try to breathe normally again.
“You know,” he murmurs softly, “you interrupted a really good song.”
I laugh quietly against his mouth.
“Play it for me?” I ask and then give him a quick kiss.
His eyes lift slowly back to mine and the smile he gives me is blinding when he says, “For you? Anything.”
Luke turns me around and pulls me back so I am flush with him and slightly on his lap. Then he pulls his guitar up in front of us, his lips brushing against my temple when he starts to sing.
“There’s a crack running through this house
Through the boards and through us
And every dream we built back then
Feels different looking back at it again
We were kids with hearts too big
Believing love could carry this
Before the world got in our heads
And taught us what fame could take instead”
I close my eyes, letting his words wrap around us and feel parts of my heart heal.