Chapter 255 - 255: Max's Reveal

<🎧 Song Recommendation: Generation Love by AR/CO, Punctual, NewEra>

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(IMPORTANT: Before you read this, check out the previous chapter if you've unlocked it. You might have missed it!)

The black Cadillac Escalade pulled through the iron gates of the Pinecrest Mansion just as the clock crossed 9:30 PM.

The warm Miami night air hit Von the second Bunny opened the door. After a freezing afternoon in Toronto, the Florida heat felt like a breath of fresh air.

Von stepped out, rolling his neck until it popped with a satisfying crack.

"Home sweet home," Von muttered, letting out a long sigh. "Finally, I can get some actual rest."

Olivia stepped out from the other side, clutching her tablet and briefcase with her usual spotless posture.

"Don't say it," Von warned.

"I haven't said anything yet, boss."

"You've got the tablet out. That's you saying it," Von shook his head.

"Then I'll be quick." Olivia turned the screen toward him with a bright, unrepentant smile. "Call time tomorrow is nine. Production meeting with David at nine-thirty to lock the changes, floor rehearsal from eleven until three, Tobias wants an hour on the rig separately, soundcheck at five, doors at seven..."

Von stared at her.

"And that's the second and final Miami date," she added gently, "

Von looked at her with a dry expression. "You really have a gift for crushing a man's peace, Olivia.

"Just keeping you on schedule," she replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'll see you tomorrow at nine sharp."

"Get some rest too, Olivia. You worked hard today."

"Always, boss."

Bunny gave Von a respectful quiet nod before taking the car around back to the garage, while Olivia headed to the guest quarters.

Von walked through the front doors.

The ground floor of the mansion was warm and lively. In the living room, Alex was sitting on the couch with his socked feet propped on the coffee table, running his fingers through a quiet acoustic chord progression.

Conor was sprawled in the armchair opposite him, scrolling through his phone with a sports highlight video playing on low volume.

"Look who's back from the north," Alex said without looking up from his fretboard. "How was Canada? Did you freeze?"

"Almost," Von laughed, walking over and dropping onto the other end of the couch. "It was rainy, and Arthur Pendleton kept a smashed chair in his studio just to remind everyone of the festival incident."

Conor looked up, grinning. "Wait, the chair from when you tackled him?"

"The exact one," Von smiled wryly. "He brought it out on live television and asked if I was Superman."

"Well, are you?" Conor chuckled, tossing a bag of trail mix across the table toward him. "After that flight stunt on night one, even my daughter keeps saying you are."

Von caught the snack bag mid-air. "Tell Clara it's trade secrets."

Alex stopped strumming and glanced at Von's jaw. "How's the cheek feeling? You looked like an extra from a zombie movie that night."

"Healed up fine," Von said, rubbing the corner of his lip and adding with a laugh. "Marcello's food and an ice bath did the trick. But honestly, it was never an issue"

"Speaking of Marcello, he left a tray of grilled chicken and pasta in the fridge for you," Alex added. "Said if you skipped dinner after traveling, he was going to personally lecture you in Italian tomorrow morning."

"I'll eat before I sleep," Von smiled, pushing himself up from the sofa. "I'm going to take a quick shower and check the studio. You guys ready for tomorrow?"

"Ready when you are," Conor said with a nod. "Setlist changes are locked for night two."

Von gave them a quick wave and headed up the grand staircase.

He stepped into his bedroom, stripped out of his travel clothes, and stood under a steaming hot shower for fifteen minutes. The heat washed away the lingering chill of Toronto and the stiffness in his joints.

Dressed in a clean grey t-shirt and loose sweatpants, he dried his hair with a towel and walked over to the door.

His creative block was completely gone.

The solution to I Just Might Be Dreaming was still sharp and vivid in his mind. The two beats of pure dead silence, the whisper hook, and the massive sub-bass explosion. He wanted to sit down at the DAW and lock the arrangement into the project file while it was still fresh.

Before heading to the studio, though, he walked down the hall toward Emily's private office.

He wanted to run the updated Canadian contract terms by her, especially the five percent merchandise concession Dan Viking had signed on the napkin.

He gave the door a light knock.

"Em?"

No answer.

Von turned the handle and pushed the door open slightly. The room was dark. The blinds were shut, her desk was spotless, and her laptop was closed.

He checked her bedroom next. Empty. The bed was made, and the lights were completely off.

Von frowned slightly. 'Is she still out for late meetings?'

It wasn't unusual for Emily to handle late-night calls, but she usually left a note or sent a message if she was leaving the grounds after dark.

Shrugging it off for a moment, Von headed back down the stairs toward the east wing where the private studio was located.

Halfway down the corridor, the kitchen door swung open, and Max stepped out into the hallway.

Max was wearing oversized grey sweatpants, fuzzy house slippers, and holding a bowl piled high with vanilla ice cream topped with crushed Oreos.

"Max," Von greeted, stopping in front of him. "Have you seen Emily anywhere? Her office is empty."

The moment the words left Von's mouth, Max stopped chewing.

He slowly lowered his spoon, narrowing his eyes into a sharp, judgmental squint. A smug, knowing smirk crept across his face.

"Oh, look at you," Max said, shaking his head with exaggerated disappointment.

"Look at the master actor at work. 'Have you seen Emily?' Please. Von, you don't have to keep acting with me, bro."

Von blinked, genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"