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Mom was on the healthy tour again, Baylee thought as he pushed his fork listlessly through his beans. He hated beans. He was nine, he didn’t need beans. From where he was sitting he had clear sight on the poorly hidden disgust on his father’s face as well. It was obvious he didn’t like beans either, but Mom always said that as long as they wanted her to do the cooking, she got to decide what was for dinner.

Baylee brought his fork to his mouth and cringed slightly as he tried not to gag swallowing the green horror. Apparently his mother saw everything, because she gave him a disapproving glare. “You will not be dismissed until your plate is clean,” she let him know.

Dad snorted, obviously deciding to deal with his potatoes first. Baylee shot him a glare. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish,” Mom scolded Dad, “I think Keeko has had more beans than she could ever need.”

Dad’s face reddened and he looked down; then shrugged. “Fine,” he whispered.

“And did you finish packing?” Mom continued. She sure did like to be all authoritative during dinner.

“I did, actually,” Dad answered, shoving a mouthful of ‘food’ inside.

“Why are we not allowed to come?” Baylee asked, not for the first time. Ever since he learned that Dad was going to London to record a new album without them, he’d been trying to get a clear reason for such a decision. He’d been disappointed so far. Sure, Dad travelled far away without them for work every now and then, but four weeks was a long time to be gone. Baylee didn’t really look forward to spending half of his summer vacation with just his mother. Yeah, Mom was nice and cool and all, but she sucked at basketball and couldn’t pitch a baseball if her life depended on it.

“Cause Nick doesn’t want distractions while recording,” Dad replied, chewing hastily. He said the word ‘distractions’ like it was the grossest thing he’d ever heard.

“So we’re distractions?” Baylee shot, his voice rising.

His father looked at him, “No, well... Nick seems to think so.”

“That’s cause he doesn’t have a family!”

“Baylee!” Mom scolded.

“It’s true! How come Nick gets to decide everything then?” Damnit, now he was getting upset again. Stupid Nick making stupid decisions all on his stupid own. Why couldn’t Dad just bring them with him anyway? It wasn’t like Nick could send them back, right? Baylee didn’t particularly care for London; it was rainy and busy and the people were sturdy and curt, but he liked travelling with Dad, so he didn’t mind where they’d go, as long as they’d go together. And he wouldn’t mind watching them in the studio, even though most of it was boring and they listened to the same line, sometimes even the same word, over and over again, it was still nice to see the songs coming together.

“Well, Nick booked the studio and the house, so it’s pretty much his call.”

“House?” Baylee asked and he saw his mother looking up in surprise as well.

“Yeah,” Dad looked at them and paused, “He wants to, er, re-group, now that Kev is back. So we’re kinda stuck in a house together.”

“Oh dear,” Mom sat back, a true expression of terror on her face.

Baylee snickered, knowing what she was afraid of immediately, “You’re going to kill each other,” he stated.

“Oh come on,” Dad laughed, “We survived almost twenty years with one another, what’s three more weeks? I mean, were the nineties even real?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Baylee said, hopping off his chair, “I wasn’t there. Can I leave, since there’s no dessert anyway?”

Mom looked at his plate, clearly surprised that it was cleared, “Eh, yeah.”

Baylee grinned, reaching a hand into the pocket of his jeans to feel the beans he’d stuffed in there while they were talking. He’d give them to one of the goats outside later, he figured. Goats loved this green stuff more than he did anyway. “I’m going outside,” he told his parents therefore.

And he was right outside the kitchen door when he heard his mom say something to his dad. And he knew he should just walk on, he knew it didn’t concern him and that they didn’t want him to hear it, but something about it peaked his interest, so instead of going outside, he leaned closer to the door, even pressing his ear up against it.

“You sure they insist on recording this now?” Mom asked softly and Baylee had to do his utmost best to hear the conversation, because Dad didn’t talk much louder.

“We don’t have all the time in the world,” he said and Baylee could hear there was another heap of beans in his mouth. “With the anniversary next year and all.”

“But I’m sure they understand the situation, right?” Mom continued, “They could cut you some slack.”

It was silent for a moment and just when Baylee began to think it was because they knew he was listening, Dad mumbled something.

“They technically don’t exactly know the situation.”

More silence. Then Mom, reserved. “What does that mean?”

Although the door was closed, Baylee could practically see his father looking to the ground and biting his lip. It was what he did when he knew he was in trouble, not much unlike what Baylee did himself when he was in trouble. “It means that I haven’t exactly told them the situation.” Dad’s voice was so quiet, Baylee could actually only hear about half of what he said.

“What?” Surely, his mother’s voice was raised now and Baylee could clearly distinguish the anger in it. He should go. Nobody liked it when their parents fought and although Baylee’s parents didn’t fight a whole lot; when they did, they went at it hard. Only this time, his father’s usual stubbornness was nowhere to be found.

“I didn’t really know how,” he said pathetically.

“How many contracts have you signed for this record?” Mom demanded, “How many deals did the group make without proper knowledge of what is happening?”

Baylee’s brow furrowed as he tried to come up with even the slightest idea of what was happening indeed. Something was up, and it was pretty serious, judging by his mother’s tone.

“I can fix it,” Dad said defiantly. There it was, there was the stubbornness that Baylee often found hard to ignore. They were very alike, his dad and he, as Baylee usually found himself arguing despite knowing he was wrong as well.

“Not in four weeks, you can’t,” Mom shot back.

“It’s not that big of a deal, alright?” Dad sighed, waving Mom off in Baylee’s mind’s eye, “By the time we have to sing it live, it’ll be fine.”

It was silent again for a few seconds and Baylee desperately tried to come up with the reason for the whole argument in the first place. Then his Mom cleared her throat, “It’s been a year, Brian.”

“I did not need to be reminded of that,” Dad’s voice was dark now, a clear warning to drop the subject because he was royally pissed off.

“You are going to tell them when you get to London, straight away,” Mom insisted, unfazed by Dad’s brooding tone.

“They’ll hate me for lying to them.”

“That’s your own fault,” Mom continued, “it’s not like they would stay unaware of it anyway, since apparently you’re all living together now.”

“Not my idea.”

“I would have attributed that idea to Nickolas immediately, don’t worry,” Mom said and Baylee felt relieved when he heard a smile shining through in her voice. “Do we have a deal?” she asked and Baylee smiled, knowing that phrase was often used against him as well as against his father.

“Fine,” Dad answered, his voice breaking and Baylee’s eyes went wide, finally realizing what may be the problem after all. He hadn’t heard it since the end of the NKOTBSB tour, and even then had refused to pay attention to it, convincing himself that Dad probably had just caught a cold or something. But if that were true, that cold would have lasted for months and months and only got worse and worse and Baylee had eventually even refused to go see the show at all. If he didn’t hear it, it wasn’t there.

But what if something was really wrong? What if Dad was sick or something? Like, not a cold sick, but really sick? Fear enveloped his insides and he tried to keep himself under control. He was not going to whimper like a baby. Still, he bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood. What if Dad was sick, and they would never tell Baylee about it? What if Dad lost his job? What would they do? Their whole lives basically revolved around Dad’s job. Sure, Mom had her little Wylee thing and Baylee followed every acting class and theatre class known to man, but Dad was the one that kept everything afloat, really. Baylee may only be nine, but he knew where the money came from. And it wasn’t from selling bags or scarves. And acting classes and auditions actually took money, instead of making it.

He walked outside, dropping the crumpled beans from his pocket to the ground unceremoniously and wiping the tears out of his eyes with his other hand. The stupid goats were quick to eat the snack and for once, Baylee didn’t feel guilty about feeding them his vegetables.

He had other things to worry about now.