Home

My EP was out, my new contract was signed, and I had settled into the next chapter of the Cy Rondeau experience.

The Ozean Horizon, Cy Rondeau, and Tony Black tour ended in more of a whisper than a bang, as the weight of the road had taken its toll on everyone. I was glad my new music was already recorded and scheduled for release so I could enjoy the short break before heading into the studio to produce OH’s next album.

Listening back to the new EP with Kiia, it wasn’t a perfect effort, and it clearly lacked the polish of my first two solo efforts, but it was the music that I wanted to make.

As my negotiation with Borgen implied, the release was the success that we all knew it would be. I didn’t celebrate, nor throw a party about it. I just took the time to sit at home with Kiia, and take in the quiet moments at home.

After being on the road for five months, it was a different experience to take in the small joys of grocery shopping and enjoying a home cooked meal together. Even though we were living together in hotels, living together at home was a completely different concept, and we assimilated to each other’s domestic rhythms nicely.

Going out in public was more stressful than it was before the tour, of course. I had figured out how to blend into crowds and disappear, but Kiia hadn’t quite adjusted to being world famous just yet. We found ourselves learning a lot of patience with fans and the paparazzi every time we left the apartment.

The weekend before we were supposed to go into the studio, we finally took a second to talk about the road ahead.

“I can’t believe your stir fry is this good,” she said, inhaling a second bowl of rice. “It’s your fault I’m going to need a new wardrobe for my spring tour.”

She laughed more than she did on the road.

“Sorry, I just picked up a lot of recipes when I toured by myself… I’d just talk to restaurant staff to kill time most nights.”

“You didn’t do anything like that this time,” she said, a little sad. “How am I supposed to learn crazy recipes if you don’t show me those ropes?”

I laughed, “Sorry, I spent a lot more time talking to security this time. You were asleep in my arms a lot more than I expected.”

“Hey, just because it’s true, doesn’t mean you have to say it,” she started on a third bowl of rice.

“I’m just glad that things worked with the label,” I sighed. “We can go collecting recipes in Europe and Japan together…actually, it will be easier in the spring since I won’t be tired most nights.”

“I’m shocked how easily the negotiations went after our conversation in Dallas,” she took a big gulp of water.

“Yeah, I ended up giving up like 10% of my gross profit split, but the venues for Europe and Japan doubled in size, so everyone kind of got what they wanted in the deal,” I said, finishing my first bowl of rice.

“I wonder if your EP moving the way it did in the first two weeks greased Borgen’s wheels a bit,” she said, pensive as she debated another bowl of rice.

Her eyes were wide as she was thoroughly enjoying every domestic moment shared together.

“Yeah, with the threat of me walking to a new label and doing a full album, and having an offer where I only did select festival appearances for an ignorant amount of money, it was a much easier renewal than any of us expected,” I sipped on a raspberry iced tea.

“Now, I have to put together our biggest album to date,” she said, having committed to a fourth bowl of rice.

“Well, you’ve already written and put together strong demos for most of it,” I said, starting a second, smaller bowl of rice. “From what I’ve heard it’s great.”

“Yeah,” she said, emitting a small burp. “I just don’t know how our fans are going to react. I’m struggling to make the appealing dark songs that we’re known for… I don’t want to get mocked for selling out and becoming a tradwife.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re a tradwife, just a powerful young woman who found a healthy relationship,” I pushed back.

“Yeah, but there’s no market for that. Who wants to listen to a former rock idol who got chubby off her also famous partner’s cooking singing about how happy she is now that she doesn’t have to face the oppression of her youth?” She paused, still eyeballing more rice while slandering her body image.

She decided against it, and decided to lay down next to me on our living room floor.

“I don’t know, but that all comes down to you. My new music was the first time I’ve ever written anything hopeful and optimistic, but my fanbase was quick to support it. You have to trust your fans to be your fans,” I said, rubbing her back.

“I guess. I also haven’t accounted for Hank or Nate bringing anything to the table. They’ve both been strong writing forces in the past too.”

“Oh?” I said. “I never knew that.”

“Yeah, Hank writes close to forty percent of everything between the music and lyrics. We intentionally don’t collaborate until later in the process though. We have such different ways of writing that working on something from scratch together just doesn’t work,” her eyes were heavy as the rice was taking hold.

“Well, if that’s the case, what are you so worried about?” My hand had moved to gently stroking her hair.

“As much as I love you, you’re still my rival. You’ve been so successful, and this is the first time I’ve felt like we’re in the same league,” she snuggled closer to me. “It’s not about competing over record sales or anything, I just want to put out something that compares, to show that we’re equals.”

Somewhere after that she caught a second wind. We enjoyed each other’s company later into the night than we expected. This was the happiest we’d ever been.