25. Garrett
GARRETT
The room is tense as Maverick and Lachlan look from me to Roan who is propped against the windowsill. Dressed in business casual even on a Sunday, he looks imposing—the seriousness of this meeting unavoidable and overdue.
And now I have to take the lead.
“I know everyone got at least one message from Darren last night,” I start, sliding printed screenshots of the ones I’d been sent to each of them. “It’s impossible to be in this situation and know what the right decision is, but I can’t let this continue.”
“Fucking finally,” Maverick heaves, dragging his hands down his face, his light hair disheveled and eyes tired as Lachlan nods.
“Seriously, man.”
My eyes widen as I stare at them, Lachlan specifically, as I try to wrap my head around the last thirty seconds. “What?”
“Dude. Darren is a mess,” Maverick says. “I know we were all there at the beginning, but Descending North is yours, Garrett. Lach and I have just been waiting for you to be ready to take out the trash.”
Eyebrows in my hairline, I gape at them as Lachlan elbows Mav. “Tone it down.”
“What? I’m tired and my filter is gone,” Maverick laments.
“What’s going on?” I ask, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the stubble covering his jaw.
“Olive is going through one of those growing phases. Did you know that was a thing? Like a growth spurt but for their mind and body. They grow when they sleep but it’s all just this wild hell period of tantrums and restlessness, and as soon as you get close to recovering, another one hits.”
Lachlan pulls out his phone and pretends to type. “Garrett, I’m going to need next week off while I get a vasectomy.”
I snort but Mav shakes his head. “She’s awesome. Best thing in my life, but holy shit, I’m exhausted.”
“I’ll get it reversed if I need to someday. In the future. A long time from now.” Lach grins as he pats Mav on the back. “More importantly, what are our options for Darren?” A little more subdued, he adds, “And the band?”
Looking to Roan, I wait for him to nod before I take a deep breath.
“If we’re in agreement then he’s out. Roan has paperwork and contracts and all the shit I never would have considered doing back then.
It’ll be messy and he’s gonna cause a scene online, but hopefully we’ll be able to get ahead of it. ”
“I’ll reach out to some people after we finish here,” Roan states, “and make sure whatever damage Darren tries to cause is minimal.”
“And the band?” Mav asks, looking between us.
“We have a couple of options,” I tell him, tapping my fingers on the table absentmindedly as Maverick’s lips twitch.
Because he knows what it means.
They all do.
But when was the last time we did this?
Enjoyed this?
Writing music has always been predominately my thing, but my favorite times were when I’d get a couple of notes in my head and we’d work it out together—everyone adding their part in until it all fit seamlessly together.
“I think I want to take some time off from touring,” I tell them, relief allowing my shoulders to slump when I see them nod. “I’d love to get back into the studio—jam a little, write some new stuff. I just want to play. I’d even settle for doing some small pop-up shows around here.”
“Which we would have to talk about extensively and make sure we have all the necessary security to keep everyone safe,” Roan adds like the killjoy he is.
“Yes, Dad,” I grumble, earning chuckles from my bandmates and a scowl from my best friend.
“Are you gonna play lead?” Lach asks, his body visibly relaxing into the chair as his chocolate brown hair falls across his forehead. He’s the youngest of the three of us but not by much.
“Yeah, we can fill the spot when we’re ready. I don’t think we need to rush it.” My mind floats back to last night at Gin & Porter and the guy I’d seen playing on stage.
“What’s that look for?” Mav asks with narrowed eyes.
“What look?” I try even though I know it’s pointless.
“That’s definitely a look,” Lachlan agrees. “He’s plotting something.”
“No plotting,” I confess, holding my hands up in surrender. “We’re not rushing anything because Darren is exhausting, but Emerson and I saw a band play in town last night.”
“Emerson, huh?” Mav grins like the Cheshire cat, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“The band was really good—lead was really good. They’re just a few guys that get together and jam.” Lifting a shoulder, I let it fall. “Might be an option.”
“Let’s get through the fallout with Darren,” Maverick says, leaning back in the chair, his fingers interlocked behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. “Let me get some sleep and then we can worry about adding people to our chaos.”
“You’re good with this, Lach?” I ask, still surprised he seems so on board.
“Yeah, dude. I like to party as much as anyone, but he’s fucking up the band. He’s changed and honestly I’m sick of trying to cover for his bullshit. We’re badass, but he’s acting like we invented rock music.”
“Shit.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I sigh. “I’m sorry I let you guys down. Why didn’t you come to me before?”
“You weren’t ready,” Mav says gently. “Descending North is a living, breathing part of you, and you wanted to give him every single opportunity to not take the band down with him.”
“Last night was what you needed to see to draw your line.”
I hate that they’re right—that I waited and tried to give Darren every opportunity to make it right.
I wanted him to love the band the way I do.
“So it’s settled then,” I say, my voice subdued. “Roan will handle the paperwork and then we’ll see if he’s in any state to meet civilly. If not then Roan and—”
“Security,” he offers and I nod.
“Security will handle the termination.”
“Do you think it’ll come to that?” Mav asks, the heaviness and finality of this hitting home.
I open my mouth to answer but before I can, I get another message, reading it quickly before sliding it across the table toward them.
DARREN: Ignore me all you want but this isn’t fucking over
DARREN: You owe me and I won’t go down without a fight
“Yeah,” I admit when they both look back up, “I think it’s already come to that.”