“Inherited from you, thanks,” I replied under my breath, lifting the glass to my lips.
“What was that?” My father barked, sliding his hands into his pockets, his eyes assessing me coldly. Mom swiveled in the barstool to face him.
“Michael, leave him be, please.”
“I’ll leave him be when he starts acting like a grown man and not a perpetual teenage waste-case.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips, which only stroked the rage in my father’s eyes.
And he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.
My father was so busy trying to pick a fight with me that he didn’t realize my personal assistant approaching. Tai looked massively uncomfortable, her gaze shifting from my parents to me.
“Calum, could I speak to you for a moment?” Her hesitant inquiry was the welcomed save I needed from this. I took one last rebellious sip and set my half-filled glass down, never breaking eye contact with the stubborn old man until I stepped past him.
I followed her outside, feeling only half reluctant about it, even though I knew the subject she’d likely want to talk about. Tai was the lesser of the evils to deal with right now. Once we were safely outside, she turned to face me.
Pulling my pack of smokes out, I lit one. Smoking cigarettes was a recent habit; it gave my mouth and hands something to do during those moments when my mouth and hands would doubtlessly get me into trouble. Drawing in the nicotine, I cocked a brow at Tai, waiting.
Vices, all I seemed to do was interchange them. I’d quit this too when the time was right.
“So I guess congratulations are in order…” she tilted her head, her brow furrowing.
“Thanks.” I kept my tone—and my expression—as neutral as I could.
“Any other secrets I should know about?” she quipped pensively, crossing her arms.
“Come on, Tai,” I frowned.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little cross. This is going to be hell to spin to the media.“ I let out a huff of aggravation, and it was met with a stern look. “Cal. This looks bad. Thisisbad.”
“Can you give me a grace period to figure this shit out for myself?”
“We’re trying. I’m trying. I’m trying to look out for your best interest, and the best interest of the band, Cal. I’m not the enemy here. Be happy that Paul didn’t come in my stead.” Tai clipped. “The label isn’t happy about that canceled show, but since it never happens—they’re willing to let it slide this time.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “How noble of them. Not like I had to pay the venue or anything.”
Tai shot me a look. “The label wants to meet with you to discuss the best way to break this to the fans.”
“My private life is my private life. I don’t want the label managing it in any fucking way, and I’ll tell Paul that myself. I’m not breaking anything to the fans.”
Tai sighed with great exasperation. “Your private life is very much tied to your music. Your image, your reputation—all of that mattersvery muchto the band and to the label.”
I said nothing. My jaw clenched with aggravation. We both knew she was right, but I just didn’t want to fucking deal with it right then. Sensing that, Tai let out another sigh, her tone and expression softening marginally. “I’m sorry. I know you’re going through a lot right now, and I get it. But your fans will find out, they always do. And the label wants to be ahead of it. They want to control the narrative. When you come back to Toronto, we’ll book a meeting and—”
“I’m not going back to Toronto,” I interjected. “At least not right now.”
“What?” She blinked, like she didn’t quite trust that she’d heard right.
“I’m buying a house and moving here. We’ll set up a conference call to figure everything else out once I’ve had some time to process things.”
“Calum,” Tai tilted her head, her eyes pleading as if she was going to argue with me about my decision.
I shook my head, the look in my eyes effectively cutting her off. “I don’t have to be at the studio to work. I can write anywhere. The guys understand this and support me in it. We can fly out for big events, we’ll still go on tours for new albums, but right now, I need time to figure this out. In nine years, we haven’t taken a break. The label can give us that much.”
Tai nodded stiffly, looking past me through the glass panes of the door. The betrayal in her eyes was evident. We’d never kept her so out of the loop before. A part of me felt responsible but compared to everyone else I’d let down over the years, this betrayal was meager.
“I’m not quitting, I promise,” I assured her, gentler this time. “I just need to take a break to regroup. We’ll still be working on the new album and writing songs, but Tai…please understand. I need to be here—I need to get to know my son.”
