Page 190 of Discordant Cultivation

“Hold my hands?” he whispered.

Vale understood immediately. He always did. His other hand left the phone and found Kieran’s remaining hand, lacing their fingers together until Kieran’s destructive impulses had nowhere to go. Sometimes they stayed like this for hours, Vale’s grip gentle but unyielding, keeping Kieran’s hands occupied until the urge passed. Other times, Vale found different ways to redirect him—intimate distractions that left Kieran too breathless and boneless to hurt himself.

Today, Vale just held on.

Kieran let himself sink into the familiar warmth, pressing his ear against Vale’s sternum where he could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The sound was grounding in ways that made his concert nerves feel manageable instead of overwhelming. He was still scared—terrified, really—but the beating of Vale’s heart against his ear made everything better.

The steady thump-thump became a metronome for his own breathing, slowing his racing pulse until it matched Vale’s measured rhythm. This was all he needed before facing the crowd tonight. Just this quiet moment, this borrowed heartbeat, this sense of belonging somewhere safe.

61

Planted roots in the graveyard of my past life; Growing toward you like you're burning bright…

Vale

Vale had removed his mask the moment he stepped off stage, needing to see Kieran clearly through the tears that hadn’t stopped flowing since the opening chord. From the wings, he watched the love of his life command ten thousand people with the same gentle presence he’d use for an audience of ten.

The performance had been transcendent from the first note. When Vale had joined him for ‘Library Card‘, then the new arrangements of ‘Broken’ and ‘Temple of Flesh‘,he’d felt something he hadn’t experienced since his college days—pure joy in making music. Not the cold satisfaction of a successful project, but actual happiness at being on stage, supporting Kieran’s soaring voice with his accompaniment despite his initial reluctance.

But tonight, wearing the mesh mask even though everyone knew it was Vale Rose under there, he’d rediscovered what it felt like to create something beautiful in real time. The joy came from watching Kieran bloom under the stage lights, seeing him transformed from an anxious stuttering boy to a confidentartist who could make ten thousand strangers hang on his every breath.

You were born for this.

Vale had intended for Thorn’s public persona to be mysterious, ethereal—a wounded angel wrapped in gauze who spoke little and let the music carry all meaning. But it turned out that letting Kieran be exactly as adorably shy and sweet as he naturally was made people love him even more. The way he blushed when someone shouted “I love you!” from the crowd, the way he paused between songs to actually connect with his audience rather than maintain artistic distance—it was authentic in ways Vale’s marketing strategies never could have achieved.

“You guys are so n-nice,” Kieran had said earlier, his stutter barely present as he adjusted his guitar strap with nervous fingers. “This is, like, really overwhelming in the b-best way. I can’t believe you’re all here.”

The crowd had roared approval, and Vale had watched Kieran’s face light up with a wonder that no amount of coaching could have created. This was why Vale had fallen in love with him—not just the trauma that created beautiful music, but the genuine sweetness that made people want to protect him, to cherish him, to follow wherever his broken voice might lead.

All your doubts, all your anxieties about not being good enough—this crowd is washing them away like the tide over sand.

The crowd hung on every word, no matter how it broke or stuttered. They sang along to ‘PoisonSaviors’ with voices that shook the venue walls. They fell silent during the haunting bridge of ‘Broken‘, then erupted when Kieran’s voice soared through the final chorus. They loved him completely, unconditionally, exactly the way Vale did.

You’ll never doubt yourself again after tonight. You’ll know what I’ve always known—that you’re extraordinary.

Vale wiped his eyes with shaking hands, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what they’d built together.

‘Descent’ started with its heavy electronic beat, and Kieran transformed completely—setting aside his guitar to move with unrestrained energy across the stage. His body bounced with joy as he launched into the rapid-fire lyrics, every syllable crisp despite the tongue-twisting wordplay.

Look at you move. Look at you shine.

Kieran’s restless energy carried him across the entire stage, his movements fluid and confident in ways that made Vale’s chest tight with pride. When he wandered far enough back to catch Vale’s eye in the wings, and the brilliant smile he flashed was worth every tear they’d both shed to reach this point.

Vale felt tears welling up again as Kieran launched into the next verse, bouncing back toward the front of the stage with that same infectious energy. The crowd was moving with him, swept up in his joy, and Vale thought he might actually fill Lake Michigan with his tears if this continued much longer.

“Good god, Valerian, get a grip on yourself.”

A tissue appeared on Vale’s shoulder as Nox’s voice cut through his emotional haze. Vale accepted the tissue without turning around so he wouldn’t punch Nox in the face

“I’ve been watching the show,” Nox continued. “Honestly, I’m impressed. That wounded little thing I met months ago—where did all this energy come from? Been keeping him fit, have you?”

“Nox,” Vale greeted with exasperated fondness, though his eyes never left Kieran’s bouncing form. The debt he owed Nox for the heroin rumor that had redirected police attention made his irritation feel performative rather than genuine. “Are you planning some green room bullshit again, or are you looking fora favor? Either way, you’ll have to wait until after we get back from vacation.”

“Wow,” Nox laughed, genuine surprise in his voice. “I had no idea you were capable of human affection, but you look like a woman in love back here.”

Vale wiped another tear from his face with the back of his hand. “What do you want, Nox?”

“Nothing,” Nox said, and for once he sounded completely sincere. “I just wanted to see what came from your basement in one piece.”