Page 51 of Discordant Cultivation

No. No, no, no.

“Two million views in three days,” Vale said, a brilliant smile on his face. “Listen to this.”

He clicked play, and Kieran didn’t recognize himself. His entire posture changed from the anxious kid he was used to seeing in his own home recordings to something primal and magnetic. That version of him sang about toxic salvation while staring directly into the camera with an intensity he didn’t remember feeling.

The gauze wrapping his hands and throat looked like a visual signature that matched the raw emotional vulnerability of the performance. The basement looked like a basement, but the kind an indie studio would use, the kind of setting that said “this is real art, not overproduced bullshit.”

Two million people watched me fall apart and thought it was beautiful.

“Speechless?” Vale scrolled down to reveal hundreds of comments. “Let me read you some of these.”

Vale’s voice took on the cadence of someone savoring wine as he read: “’This is the most honest performance I’ve ever seen. Who is this artist?’ ‘Holy shit, this gave me chills. Where can I find more of his music?’ ‘The raw emotion in his voice—I can’t stop watching.’ ‘This is what real art looks like.’”

Kieran stared at the screen, unable to process the numbers. The likes, the shares, the comments Vale scrolled past faster than he could read them. Strangers dissecting his breakdown, finding beauty in his trauma, begging for more.

”’I would pay anything to hear him perform live,’“ Vale continued. “’This is why I still believe in music.’ ‘Someone sign this kid immediately.’ ‘His voice when it breaks on that line about salvation—actual goosebumps.‘”

They think it’s beautiful. They think my breaking is beautiful.

“There are record labels in the comments,” Vale said, his tone becoming more serious. “Talent scouts. Industry people I know personally. Everyone wants to know who you are.”

Kieran’s hands shook. He pressed them against his thighs, trying to stop the tremor that betrayed how overwhelmed he was. “You p-posted this without asking me.”

“I posted art. Our art.” Vale closed the laptop and leaned forward with that intensity that meant Kieran’s full attention was required. “Do you understand what this means? You’re not a street performer anymore. You’re a viral sensation.”

Our art. Like we made it together. Like I was there willingly instead of breaking down because I had no choice.

“I didn’t consent t-to—people seeing—” Kieran pursed his lips. Two million strangers had watched him sing about the man sitting across from him, had seen him collapse from emotional exhaustion, had witnessed the most vulnerable moment of his life outside of his seizures.

“You consented when you performed it.” Vale’s tone remained patient, but something sharp lurked underneath. “When you poured your heart out for the cameras. When you looked directly into the lens and sang like you were having a conversation with the world.”

“I was having a c-conversation with you!” Kieran slapped his hand over his mouth.

Too honest. That was too honest. He’ll use that.

Vale’s gaze softened. “I know. And that’s what makes it so powerful. The intimacy. The trust.”

“They want more,” Vale continued. “Labels are offering meetings. Venues want to book you. There’s already talk of a recording contract.”

Kieran’s throat ached. “I can’t—I don’t know how to—what if I have a seizure on stage? What if I can’t perform without—”

What if I can’t perform without you? What if I can’t access that honesty without your hands guiding me there?

No. Don’t think that. Don’t give him that power.

“Without what, Kier?”

“Without—” Kieran’s throat closed around the words. He couldn’t say it. “Without knowing what to expect. I need—you’re r-right…I need structure.”

That was safe. Structure wasn’t the same as needing Vale specifically.

But Vale’s smile suggested he’d heard what Kieran hadn’t said anyway. “Structure. Is that all you need?”

Kieran looked away, unable to hold that knowing gaze. “Yes.”

“Liar.” Vale’s tone was soft, almost affectionate. “But we’ll come back to that.”

Vale stood and sat down on the couch behind Kieran. “Lie back.”