I woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast drifting through the house.
It took me a second to remember where I was. The room was dim but warm, sunlight just starting to spill through the window in soft orange streaks that stretched across the floor and up the wall. For a moment, I just lay there, listening. The house wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t empty either. There was movement somewhere downstairs, quiet voices, the faint clatter of dishes.
I pushed myself up slowly and swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor grounding me as I stood. Something about it all felt different. Not wrong—just new.
I moved toward the window and looked outside. The backyard was already being taken apart, the small stage from the party half gone while a few workers moved around it, stacking chairs and folding tables. The grass was still covered in dew, catching the early light and making everything shimmer faintly.
It didn’t feel like last night anymore. It felt like something after it.
I let out a quiet breath before turning back toward the room. Kyan was still sprawled across the bed, completely out, one arm thrown over his head as he snored softly. I watched him for a second, a small smile tugging at my face before I shook my head.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.
I left him there and slipped into the bathroom, taking care of what I needed before pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. My reflection caught me for a second in the mirror. I looked the same, but it didn’t feel like it.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and headed downstairs, my stomach reminding me pretty quickly why I had woken up in the first place.
The kitchen smelled even better up close.
My mom stood at the stove, focused on something in the pan while my dad leaned against the counter nearby with a cup of coffee in one hand. They were talking quietly, but both of them looked up the second I stepped into the room.
Their expressions changed immediately.
“Good morning, baby boy,” my mom said, setting the spatula down long enough to come over and pull me into a hug.
I hugged her back without thinking about it. “Morning, mom.”
“Would you like some juice, baby boy?”
“Yes, please.”
My dad reached over and pulled me into his side as she poured it, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Kyan snores, though.”
Both of my parents started laughing at my comment.
“Maybe, he'll finally believe us when we tell him now that we have another witness,” my father suggested to my mother as he sipped on his coffee.
My mom set a glass of orange juice in front of me and rolled her eyes. “I doubt it, David. That boy is as stubborn as you are.”
I giggled quietly at the comment, but my father poked me in the side anyways. “You're not supposed to take your mother's side in these discussions, Zyan,” he said with a laugh.
“At least we know where his true loyalties lie,” my mother teased smugly.
“For now,” my father retorted with another chuckle.
My stomach growled again.
“Are you always hungry?” my father asked me with a grin.
I knew he was teasing me, but it didn’t stop me from blushing.
“Oh, stop teasing the poor boy, David,” my mother chided him. “You're going to give him a complex.” Then she turned her attention back to me with a warm smile. “Does pancakes, sausage, and eggs work for you, Zyan?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I said with a small smile. “Pancakes are my favorite.”
“Just wait until you try her French toast, buddy,” my father added. “You'll never want pancakes again.”
I giggled lightly as he ruffled my hair before turning back to his newspaper.
“There's a yard sale down the road from us, Lauren,” he said without glancing up. “Would you like to head down there and see if there are any collectables you want to add to your collection?”
“As long as we're back with plenty of time to get ready for the concert, tonight,” my mom replied.
The word concert made me shift slightly on the stool, the earlier calm slipping just a little as the reminder settled in. I pulled my phone out and sent a quick message.
Me: Hey…
Chad: Zyan! What's up, man?
Me: Are you going to be at the concert, tonight?
Chad: Absolutely! You're not backing out are you.
Me: No. My mom and dad wouldn't let me even if I tried. LOL.
Chad: Good. Don’t be late.
I smiled faintly and set my phone down just as my mom placed a plate of food in front of me, along with a bottle of syrup.
“Will this do?” she asked pleasantly.
“Could I have a banana, too, please?” I asked a little nervously.
“Of course, Zyan,” she replied happily, grabbing one from the counter and handing it to me. “Here you go, love.”
“Thank you, mom.”
“It’s my pleasure, baby boy.”
I quickly set to work on my food, not realizing how hungry I actually was until I had nearly finished. Kyan and Sarah wandered into the kitchen a few minutes later. Kyan dropped into the seat beside me while Sarah poured herself a cup of coffee before sitting down next to our dad.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Kyan asked between bites of pancake.
“You were snoring,” I said with a giggle. “I figured it was a better use of your time.”
“You turd,” Kyan muttered, rolling his eyes.
“We told you that you snore,” my father said with a laugh. “Now we have even more proof.”
“That’s not fair,” Kyan complained. “Zyan is supposed to be on my side.”
“Don’t worry, Kyan,” my father added. “Zyan appears to be taking your mother’s side today.”
“Traitor,” Kyan mumbled as he bumped his shoulder into mine.
I frowned for a moment before realizing he was teasing me, and the tension faded just as quickly as it had come.
My phone chimed again.
Chad: Mrs. G wanted me to double check you're going to be there.
I sighed quietly and typed back.
Me: I’ll be there. Probably early.
“Who is it?” Kyan asked.
“My friend Chad,” I said with a small smile. “He’s making sure I’m still going tonight. Mrs. Grant is worried I’m going to bail.”
“She’ll understand that’s not the case once she meets mom,” Kyan said just loud enough for me to hear.
I couldn’t help the quiet giggle that slipped out, though it drew both of our parents’ attention.
“What are the two of you up to?” my mother asked suspiciously.
“Just planning our mad escape into the wilderness,” Kyan replied without hesitation.
“After the concert,” my mother said with a wry grin.
I tried to fake a pout, but she wasn’t having any of it. She ruffled my hair and kissed my cheek before taking my empty plate and setting it in the dishwasher.
“You’ll get used to it, Zyan,” Sarah said encouragingly.
“Thanks,” I replied, a little dryly, making both of my parents chuckle.
“Make sure he's back in time for me to do his hair, mom,” Sarah added with a hint of warning in her voice. “We know how you get when you start shopping.”
“I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about,” my mother said with mock innocence. I giggled at the expression on her face before she smiled. “I promise we won't be gone forever. We might even be home by noon.”
“Just don't let her take you to the mall, or you'll never make it to your concert,” Kyan warned me with a laugh.
“There's an idea,” I said with a grin.
“You're not getting out of it that easy, Zyan,” my mother said with her own smile.
My dad reached over and ruffled my hair again. “Nice try, though.”
I blushed and looked down at the countertop. There was no way they were going to let me get out of the concert.
My dad folded his newspaper slightly and glanced over at my mom. “Don’t spend all of my money in one go,” he added, his tone light.
“I’ll try not to,” my mom replied easily before turning her attention back to me. “Follow me, Zyan.”
I nodded and slid off the stool, moving to follow her as she grabbed her purse.
“I put your shoes in the laundry room,” she added as she headed toward the back of the house.
“Just head through the door on your left, Zyan,” my mother said as she led me away from the kitchen. “Your shoes are in there, and that will take us to the garage.”
I nodded and slipped into the laundry room, quickly finding my shoes where she said they would be. After pulling them on, I pushed through the next door—and stopped.
There were three different cars sitting in the garage.
Two Mercedes SUVs and a sleek black Lexus that looked like it had just rolled off the showroom floor. I stared at them for a second, taking it in before my mom motioned toward one of them.
“This one is mine,” she said with a small smile. “The white SUV is your sister’s, and the black one belongs to your dad.”
“Nice,” I said quietly, still a little in awe as I followed her over to the Lexus. I climbed into the passenger seat and had my seatbelt fastened before she had even fully settled into the driver’s seat.
She pressed a button on the dashboard, and the engine came to life smoothly as the garage door began to lift.
“We really won’t be gone very long,” she said as she backed out. “It’s not even nine yet, so we’ve got plenty of time.”
“Is this going to be our regular thing on Saturday mornings?” I asked, my voice a little more hesitant than I meant it to be.
“If you want it to be,” she replied easily, glancing over at me with a soft smile.
I returned it without thinking. “I’m just happy to be home,” I said quietly. “I don’t really care what we do.”
She made a small sound, almost like she had caught her breath, before reaching over and pulling me into a quick, tight hug.
“I’m just as happy that you’re back home, baby boy,” she said softly. “You have no idea.”
She pulled away, brushing quickly at her eyes before putting the car in drive and heading down the long driveway toward the gate. The guard waved us through, and my mom returned it with a small smile before pulling out onto the road.
I leaned back in my seat and turned the radio on, letting the soft music fill the car as we drove. For a little while, everything felt easy. I focused on the moment—on being here with her—on not thinking about anything else.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it.
I’d been waiting ten years for something like this.
I wasn’t going to waste it.
But the quiet didn’t last.
It never really did.
The thought crept in slowly at first, barely noticeable until it settled in deeper.
I didn’t survive without them.
The Monster had made sure of that.
My chest tightened slightly, and I forced myself to take a slow breath, staring out the window as the houses passed by. I wasn’t going to let it ruin this. Not now. Not when things were finally… good.
I just needed to keep it together.
“Hey,” my mom said gently, her voice pulling me back. “How was your first night home?”
I hesitated, my fingers fidgeting slightly in my lap. “It was… different,” I said quietly. “I didn’t have any nightmares.”
She glanced over at me, something soft and relieved slipping into her expression. “Really?”
I nodded. “Usually I do. Almost every night.”
She didn’t interrupt. She just listened.
“I kept waiting for it,” I admitted, my voice dropping a little. “But it never happened.”
Her hand moved to rest lightly on my leg, grounding but gentle.
“I’m really glad,” she said softly. “You deserve nights like that, Zyan.”
I looked down for a moment before shrugging slightly. “It was probably just because I’m here.”
“It’s more than that,” she said, her thumb brushing lightly against my knee. “You’re safe here. Your mind is starting to figure that out, even if it takes time.”
I didn’t respond right away.
I wanted to believe that.
“I hope it stays like that,” I said quietly.
“Even if it doesn’t every night,” she replied gently, “we’ll get you there. You don’t have to deal with it alone anymore.”
I nodded faintly, letting the silence settle again as we continued driving.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of small stops and quiet moments. We visited three different yard sales, and each one felt a little more normal than the last. My mom moved from table to table with an easy familiarity, picking things up, examining them, occasionally smiling when something caught her eye.
She talked the whole time.
Not in a way that overwhelmed me, but in a steady, comfortable flow—stories about Kyan and Sarah, things they had done when they were younger, little details about the family I had missed out on. I found myself listening more than anything, holding onto those pieces like they mattered.
Because they did.
When she started talking about how my siblings used to come with her on Saturdays but had eventually stopped, something in me tightened slightly.
“I’ll go with you,” I said without really thinking about it. “Every time. I won’t miss it.”
She froze for just a second before turning toward me, her expression shifting in a way I didn’t fully understand until she pulled me into a hug.
“I love you, baby boy,” she whispered.
“I love you too, mommy,” I said softly, the word slipping out before I could second guess it.
She held me a little longer than before, and when she finally pulled away, her eyes were just a little brighter.
“We should probably get you home,” she said gently. “Your sister is going to want to get you ready for your concert.”
The word hit again.
Concert.
I bit lightly at the corner of my lip, my thoughts shifting to the one thing I hadn’t told them—the one thing I had made sure Greg and Natalie kept quiet.
“Hey,” my mom said, her voice softer now. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just nervous,” I said quickly, forcing a small smile. “I’ll be okay.”
She studied me for a moment, then pulled me into another quick hug.
“You will be,” she said. “And we’ll be right there.”
I nodded, even if I wasn’t completely sure.
We packed the rest of the items into the trunk and headed back toward the house. My mom kept talking as we drove, more stories, more pieces of the family I was still trying to fit into.
I listened.
But part of my mind had already shifted somewhere else.
As much as I wanted to believe I belonged here, I couldn’t shake the thought that I needed to prove it.
And I wasn’t sure yet how I was supposed to do that.
Eastwood High Academy held a special event at the end of every school year. The campus transformed into something closer to a festival, with carnival rides set up across the grounds and different bands performing throughout the two-day celebration. One of the featured performances was the Varsity Choir, and while my parents had been told most of the details, there was still one thing I had kept from them.
I was singing solos.
Natalie and Greg had agreed not to say anything, and I intended to keep it that way. My mom was already excited enough. I didn’t need to give her another reason to focus all of her attention on me. Mrs. Grant had made sure to keep the performance itself under wraps as well. Even the principal didn’t know exactly what she had planned.
By the time we got back from the yard sales, the house felt alive again. My dad wasted no time teasing me about turning into a “shopper” like my mom, and for a second, I had started apologizing without even thinking about it. The reaction came automatically, like I had done something wrong. Both of my parents were quick to shut that down, praising the little things I had helped pick out instead of making me feel like I had messed up.
Before I could really settle into that, Sarah appeared in front of me and grabbed my arm.
“Okay,” she said, eyeing me critically. “Before I do anything, go take a quick shower. You smell.”
I blinked. “I just—”
“You’ve been outside all morning,” she cut in. “Go.”
Kyan snorted from the couch. “She’s right. You’re kind of stinky.”
I frowned at him.
“Oh, don’t act like you’re any better,” my mom said immediately, glancing between the two of us. “You need one too, Kyan.”
“What?” he protested.
“Both of you,” she said firmly, though there was a small smile on her face. “Go.”
Kyan groaned but stood anyway, bumping his shoulder into mine as he passed. “This is your fault.”
“Mine?” I shot back, but I followed him upstairs anyway.
The showers didn’t take long. By the time we were done, we had both changed into simple shorts and t-shirts, the earlier tension replaced with something lighter, easier.
Kyan leaned against the wall as I stepped out of the bathroom, running a hand through his damp hair. He glanced at me for a second before pushing himself upright.
“Come on,” he said. “If we take too long, Sarah’s going to come looking for us.”
I nodded and followed him out into the hallway, both of us heading back downstairs.
Sarah was already waiting.
“There you are,” she said, grabbing my arm the second I got close enough. “Now we can actually work with this.”
She pulled me upstairs to her room before I could say anything else and sat me down on a small stool in front of her dresser. She moved behind me, her fingers sliding into my hair as she studied it in the mirror.
“Hm,” she murmured thoughtfully. “I wonder what I can do…”
I stayed still, watching her reflection, but the longer it went on, the more I felt that nervous tension creeping back in.
She noticed.
“Hey,” Sarah said, catching my eyes in the mirror with a reassuring smile. “Don’t be scared, Zyan. I’ve been doing hair for two years now. I would never let anyone leave this house looking bad.”
That earned a quiet laugh from me, and some of the tension eased out of my shoulders.
“Okay,” I said softly.
She kept talking as she worked, filling the space with easy conversation—stories about the family, little things about growing up here, details I tried to hold onto as she shaped my hair into something that looked a lot more intentional than what I had started with.
At some point, my mom appeared in the doorway.
“Oh my—” she said, stepping inside. “He looks amazing.”
“Of course he does,” Sarah replied easily. “I did it.”
My mom smiled and stepped closer, her hand brushing lightly against my shoulder. “Your Uncle Derek and Aunt Abby are going to love this,” she said. “They went back to the hotel last night after you fell asleep, but they’ll be at the concert tonight. Hayley too—and Denly has been asking about you all morning.”
My stomach flipped slightly at that.
More people.
More attention.
I nodded anyway. “Okay.”
Sarah finished with a few final adjustments before stepping back. “Perfect.”
My mom didn’t waste any time after that. She pulled me out into the hallway and immediately started positioning all of us for pictures. Kyan barely had time to react before she had him standing next to me, adjusting our shoulders, fixing angles, stepping back, then stepping forward again.
I felt my face heat up quickly.
“Mom…” I tried.
“Just one more,” she said, already holding her phone up again.
“Lauren,” my dad called from downstairs, his voice carrying easily. “We’re never going to make it to the concert if you don’t let him finish getting ready.”
She paused, frowned slightly, then laughed. “Fine. Go get dressed, Zyan.”
“Don’t mess up your hair!” Sarah called after me.
“I’ll go help him,” Kyan added, already heading up the stairs behind me.
Once we were back in my room, he closed the door and leaned against it.
“See?” he said. “Told you.”
I smiled faintly and moved toward the bed, where the outfit Sarah had picked out was laid out neatly—a silver shirt and black khakis.
“You’re wearing that?” Kyan asked.
“Apparently.”
He shrugged. “You’ll look good.”
I picked up the shirt and pulled it on, adjusting it slightly as I looked at myself in the mirror. It fit closer than I was used to, and for a second, I just stood there, taking it in.
Different.
Not bad.
Just… different.
“Yeah,” Kyan said after a moment. “You’re good.”
The nerves came back the moment we headed downstairs again. This wasn’t just getting dressed.
This was being seen.
Kyan slowed at the bottom of the stairs and turned slightly, offering his hand without making a big deal out of it.
I took it.
Just for a second.
Sarah looked me over the moment we stepped into the room, making a few quick adjustments to my shirt and smoothing my hair before finally stepping back.
“Okay,” she said. “Now we’re ready.”
The drive to Eastwood took about thirty minutes, and Kyan and Sarah spent most of it talking about summer plans, bouncing ideas back and forth like they had already decided I was part of everything.
“The Fourth of July festival at Crater Lake,” Kyan said, glancing over at me. “You’ve never been, right?”
I shook my head.
“It’s the best,” Sarah added immediately. “Fireworks, food, music—it’s huge.”
“If we can get Uncle Derek and Aunt Abby to bring Hayley and Denly out too, it’ll be perfect,” she continued. “They’re already in town, so it’s basically guaranteed.”
“I’m sure they’d love that,” my mom said from the front seat. “We could make a whole week out of it.”
Both of them turned to look at me at the same time.
My face warmed instantly.
“It’s up to you, baby brother,” Kyan said with a small smile.
“Why me?” I asked, a little overwhelmed. “Why can’t you decide?”
“Because this is your first summer with us,” Sarah said. “That means you get to pick what we do.”
“But you’re already planning things,” I pointed out.
“Exactly,” she said. “We’re giving you options.”
I hesitated, my hands tightening slightly in my lap.
“What if I don’t know what makes me happy?” I asked quietly.
There was a brief pause.
Then Kyan’s arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me gently into his side.
“Then we figure it out,” he said simply. “Together. That’s how this works.”
I leaned into him slightly, letting that settle.
“Thanks, Kyan,” I said softly.
I texted Chad when we pulled up in front of the school, and he didn’t waste any time. Within seconds, the front doors flew open and he came jogging out with a huge smile on his face, like he had been waiting for us to arrive.
As soon as I stepped out of the SUV, he pulled me into a tight hug.
“Zach—” he started before immediately catching himself, his face turning bright red. “I mean—Zyan! Sorry… this is going to take some getting used to.”
I couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his reaction. “It’s taking me a little bit to get used to, too,” I admitted with a small grin.
Chad relaxed a little and smiled back before turning his attention toward my parents. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery,” he greeted politely, then nodded toward Kyan and Sarah. “We’ve got to get backstage. Natalie and Greg asked me to tell you they saved you seats up front. Your Uncle Derek and Aunt Abby are already in the auditorium too—with Hayley and Denly.”
My stomach dropped at that.
Front row.
And even more people.
Perfect.
I forced a small smile, but inside, everything tightened. Missing the dress rehearsal already had me on edge, and now knowing exactly where my entire family would be sitting didn’t help. The piano parts didn’t worry me—I could handle those without thinking—but everything else… the parts no one knew about… those were different. Natalie and Greg had kept my secret, but that only meant my parents were about to see everything for the first time.
Live.
Kyan’s hand slipped into mine, pulling me back a step as the others started toward the entrance.
“Hey,” he said quietly, studying my face. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
“Just nervous,” I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’ll be okay. Music’s the only thing that’s kept me from completely losing it the last couple years. As long as mom and dad don’t embarrass me, I think I’ll survive.”
Kyan snorted softly. “Good luck with that.”
He wrapped his arms around me in a quick, tight hug before letting go. I glanced toward the doors and saw my parents talking with Chad, my mom already showing him something on her phone. Chad caught my eye and winked, which only made my cheeks heat up even more.
“You won’t even need to worry about recording it, Mrs. Montgomery,” Chad was saying as they started walking again. “Mrs. Grant hired a studio to film everything. I’ll make sure you get a copy.”
“Thank you, Chad,” my dad said, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “We appreciate that.”
“Anything for the parents of my favorite singer,” Chad replied with a grin, shooting me another look that made my face burn.
“I think he likes you, baby brother,” Kyan teased quietly. “Pretty sure dad approves, too.”
I froze.
The words didn’t just land—they sank deep.
My chest tightened instantly as my thoughts twisted into something darker, something familiar. He knew. My dad knew. That meant it was only a matter of time before everything fell apart. The same question that had haunted me for years crept back in without hesitation.
When would it start?
When would they turn on me?
I stood there, watching them walk ahead without me, laughing and smiling like everything was perfect. Like they didn’t need me there at all. The thought dug in deeper, sharper, wrapping around everything else until it was the only thing I could hear.
You’re worthless.
The Monster’s voice slipped into my mind with ease, feeding into the spiral I couldn’t stop. I didn’t even realize I had stopped moving until everything around me started to feel distant.
“Zyan?”
Kyan was suddenly in front of me again, his expression shifting the second he saw my face. His hand came up gently, brushing away a tear I hadn’t noticed had fallen before he pulled me into a tight hug.
The contact grounded me instantly.
The spiral didn’t disappear, but it slowed—just enough for me to breathe again.
“You’re not worthless,” Kyan said firmly, his voice low but steady. “You mean everything to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Zyan.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
Not just because of what he said—but because of how he said it. There wasn’t any hesitation in his voice. No doubt. Just certainty.
I tightened my grip on him slightly, holding onto that instead of everything else trying to drag me down.
“I love you, Kyan,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” he murmured back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Nobody blames you for anything.”
I nodded faintly, focusing on my breathing as the world slowly came back into place around us.
“Zyan?” Chad’s voice called from a few feet away. “Mrs. Grant needs us in the choir room for warmups.”
“Yeah,” I said, pulling back and forcing a small smile. “Okay.”
I glanced at Kyan. “Wish me luck.”
He grinned. “You’re a Montgomery, Zyan. You’re programmed to succeed when it comes to the arts.” He motioned toward the doors with a small nod. “Let’s go before you get in trouble.”
“I think I’d rather get in trouble…” I muttered under my breath.
“Not when it’s mom giving you shit for keeping her from seeing one of her children perform in a concert,” Kyan shot back immediately, his tone half-warning, half-amused as he started guiding me toward the school.
He wasn’t wrong.
I tried to slip past my parents and make a quiet escape toward the doors, but my mom caught me before I could get away.
“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. She kissed my cheek before finally letting me go, her expression soft and full of something I wasn’t used to seeing directed at me. “I love you, Zyan.”
“I love you too, mom,” I said quietly.
My dad reached over to ruffle my hair, but I jerked back instinctively, wincing slightly.
“Don’t you dare touch his hair!” Sarah snapped immediately. “I did not spend over an hour working on that just for you to mess it up now.”
My dad pulled his hand back with a chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry.”
I blinked in surprise at how quickly he backed off, and my mom laughed as Sarah continued to glare at him like she might actually follow through on the threat.
“Good luck, baby boy,” my mom said softly.
Before I could hesitate again, Chad grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the entrance.
“Thanks, mom!” I called over my shoulder as we hurried inside.