Page 145 of Discordant Cultivation

“But the st-stream was live—” Kieran’s breathing quickened as he fought against Vale’s restraint, trying to push himself upright.

“Kieran, stop. Lie down.” The command carried enough authority to cut through his post-seizure confusion, and Kieran’s body went still. “I’m going to call the doctor. You’re not moving until he clears you.”

Vale’s phone had been buzzing so frequently in his pocket it was making the skin beneath his pants pocket numb.

They can wait.

Dr. Henley arrived within two hours of Vale’s call, his usual professional calm intact despite being summoned for an emergency house visit. Vale moved reluctantly away from Kieran’s side, feeling like a caged beast as he paced inside the room.

“Breakthrough seizures,” Dr. Henley said as he approached Vale. “Likely triggered by stress and sleep deprivation. The Versed worked well for the tonic-clonic episode, but you mentioned he’s been having more myoclonic jerks, and he’s reporting an increase in sensory focal seizures.”

“An increase?” Vale felt his stomach drop. “He…he hasn’t mentioned that to me.”

“His records indicate his previous baseline was about one focal seizure per day and one tonic-clonic every two months. He’s had one almost every month for the last four months, and based on what he told me, he’s having clustered focal seizures for several hours a day, I’m estimating forty to sixty. We need to adjust his Keppra dosage again,” the doctor continued, making notes in his tablet. “I also want to add another anti-epileptic, and an SSRI. I’m also recommending rest for the next two weeks. No recording sessions, no performances, minimal screen time, if possible. His nervous system needs time to stabilize.”

Vale felt like he couldn’t breathe. Kieran was suffering—had been suffering—for months, and Vale hadn’t known. And worse: Kieran had beenhidingit from him.

Hours a day.

The words kept echoing in Vale’s mind like a dissonant chord that wouldn’t resolve. Hours of focal seizures. Forty to sixty of them. And Kieran had saidnothing.

“How—” Vale’s voice came out strangled. He forced himself to breathe. “How long has he been hiding this?”

“Based on the timeline he described, probably around when you started recording the album.”

Vale had been so focused on cultivation, on pruning and shaping and bringing Kieran to full bloom, that he’d missed his rose waswithering.

“The stress,” Vale said quietly, and it wasn’t a question. The word tasted like failure.

“Most likely the primary trigger, yes,” Dr. Henley nodded. “Combined with inconsistent sleep patterns—”

“He sleeps in my bed.” The words came out sharp, defensive. “Every night. I make sure he—”

But even as Vale said it, he remembered the nights Kieran had lain awake staring at the ceiling. The mornings he’d woken withshadows under his eyes. The way he’d already be up and writing, or making coffee…

Vale felt something crack open in his chest—not the careful breaking he inflicted on Kieran, but something jagged and uncontrolled. Terror, he realized. Pure, animal terror.

“I need you to understand the severity here. If these breakthrough seizures continue, we’re looking at potential cognitive impacts. Memory problems. Processing difficulties. And in worst-case scenarios—”

“Don’t.” The word came out hoarse. Vale couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t let himself imagine Kieran’s brilliant, poetic mind fragmenting beyond repair, reduced to—

No.

“Two weeks of rest,” he said. “No recording. I understand.”

After Dr. Henley left, Vale finally looked at his phone, steeling himself for whatever digital chaos awaited. The notification count had stopped updating at 99+ with a steady stream of calls, texts, social media mentions, and news alerts that painted a picture of complete exposure.

TMZ: BREAKING - Reclusive Music Producer Vale Rose’s Face Revealed During Artist’s Medical Emergency

Twitter trending: #ThornAndRose #PrayForThorn #ValeRose

Industry insiders texting:

Jessica McMillan – Sony

Holy shit, is that really you?

Phil Horovitz – Republic Records