I press my thumb on the screen to end the half hour phone call with Silas and look at Jada, who is sitting on my bed with her legs crossed. She's leaning forward as if I have the best and juiciest secret.

"Silas doesn't think he wants to come back."

It's been two days since Kyler walked from San Antonio, Texas to Spring Hill. He refuses to talk to anyone except me or his sister, Macy. Silas, Austin, and Emmett are all waiting to see what will happen with the band. Without Kyler, they're just dust. There is no fire.

Silas has begged me to help.

So, I, Lennon Rae Davis am about to willingly get on a plane.

Yes.

I'm shocked, too.

But some things are worth fighting for—even if your biggest opponent is yourself. Kyler is one of those things. He's helped me believe in myself more times than I can count. It's time to return the favor.

I'm getting good at kicking my own ass. Kyler points it out all the time and he needs me. Not like the sun needs the moon, or the bees need the flowers or like he needs the very air he breathes, but he's forgetting to believe in himself and he needs me.

So, I, Lennon Rae Davis am about to willingly get on a plane. Never would have seen this coming. My father has use of a private one for work and has somehow, on a whim made this possible. That part kind of terrifies me, I'll admit. Aircraft mishaps are almost always some small and insignificant plane going down. But I'm flying to Springhill Texas, not through the Bermuda Triangle, so I remind myself of that.

"Ready?"

Jada grabs the pull of my small luggage as I throw my backpack over my shoulder. "Ready as I'll ever be."

As she's wheeling the suitcase from my room, she turns and gives me a smile so large, it could solar power a football stadium. "This is so romantic," she gushes.

We leave my room and when I come around the corner to the kitchen, Dad hands me travel documents with a wad of cash. "Have fun, be safe. Be smart. Text me when you land and when you arrive at the hotel."

"Got it," I say. "I will."

"Tell Kyler we said hi," Claire adds.

"I'll tell him."

I put my suitcase in the back of Jada's car and climb into the passenger seat. Not that long ago, I'd be panicking right now. I wouldn't have sat in this car, let alone allowed Jada to start and then drive it.

But I fought to sit in this car. I won this right.

He needs me.

I won't let him down.

I don't ritualize once. It doesn't cross my mind because I have laser focus. I just want to get to Kyler. My dad programmed Jada's GPS and we head to a completely different area of the airport. No United Airlines here. Only small, privately owned luxury tin cans with wings.

Jada parks her car and we both exit. We hug, and she pops the trunk, so I can get my bag. "Good luck!" She gushes. "You got this!"

I throw my arms around her. She's one of my truest, most beautiful friends. "I do. I got this."

I believe both of us.

I board the plane, which, as one may guess belonging to the huge corporation my dad works for, is more like a living room in the sky than a death trap with wings. I wait for a trigger. Something. Anything. A horrible dread to grip me and squeeze until I can't breathe but it doesn't. That's both new to me and a little strange. I'm not complaining. The less frequently my episodes happen, the stronger I feel. That's not to say I'm free and clear. They still happen. I mean, the freak out when my dad and Claire told me Kyler got into an altercation and was missing was well deserved. But nobody's perfect and normal is boring.

Day to day life is easier somehow. I don't know if that's because of therapy, medication, Kyler himself, or a trifecta of hard work, iron will, luck and love, but I'll take it regardless of where it comes from because it comes with things like the freedom to hop on a plane and surprise your sullen boyfriend. People do it all the time.

I'm doing it today. The seat reclines, so I stretch my legs, lie back and look out the window, close my eyes and think about all the things that Kyler needs to hear. We're good that way, me and him. Always there when the other needs a reminder of what's important.

Three hours later I find myself in front of the door of the hotel Kyler named. He doesn't know I'm coming but he'd told me over the phone when he was poking fun at its less than ideal vibe.

I knock on the door and wait.

Nothing.

I knock again. Harder this time.

Still nothing.

Uh oh.

My heart drops and I tense, but the second I whirl around to decide what to do, I find myself in his shadow. A grin stretches across his face. He's got a coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. He steps forward, not releasing his coffee or his bag, but wrapping his arms around me in a bear hug. "Came to join my rebellion, Davis?"

"Not here for your career limiting rebellion," I say, "I aiming to shock and awe."

He smirks. "I'm both in shock," he pauses and pulls me forward, closer to him, and kisses me softly. "And in awe. Mission accomplished."

I push my way inside his hotel room. "Mission's just beginning."

"Oh yeah? What's the rest?"

"Kyler, you need to go back. You have to."

"That's where you're wrong, Davis. I don't."

"Think about Silas, Austin and Emmet. Think about how hard you worked for this."

"I think they're better off without me."

"Why?"

"I'm not the lead singer kind of guy, Lennon. I want to write music, eat food and spend time with you. That's it."

"Pretty low standards."

"Less disappointing," he says. "You didn't fly all this way to convince me to go back, did you? Also, kudos," he sticks his hand up in the air for a high five. "Plane rides, that's new."

I high five him back. "Right. I wasn't even nervous. I did it without ritualizing."

He nods. "New and exceptionally badass."

"You taught me to be that way," I say. "Now it's your turn."

"It's embarrassing, Lennon. People picking at you, prodding at you, looking for cracks or holes or weaknesses."

"Ever stop to think they're looking for something else? For inspiration to do better?"

"They should look to someone like you then."

I'm not going to argue. I work every single day to do better, to be better, to try harder but I love myself even if it's a bad day. Kyler needs to, too.

"We used to talk about life defining moments, Kyler." He rolls his eyes, but I say nothing and point to the bed. "Your rule is stupid."

"What?"

"Your rule, it's dumb."

"Why don't you tell me how you really feel, Davis?"

"You want to risk everything just to prove a point. So, what if people ask about your face? Tell them. Own your shit. So, what if it hurts? So, what if it feels unsure? So, what if it makes the nosey guy interviewing you uncomfortable. It's your story, part of who you are. Be proud."

"I love when my super-hot girlfriend tells me to be proud of how I look," he says. "Makes perfect sense."

"I'm not telling you to be proud of how you look Kyler, I'm telling you to be proud of who you are, flaws and all."

"You spend too much time with the shrink," he says.

"And you don't spend enough time with one. You're so worried about your look and telling the ugly parts of your story that you're forgetting there are so many beautiful parts, too, Kyler. The parts that matter."

He rolls his eyes. "I tell you all this crap about your OCD."

I nod. "That's my point. Everyone has scars. Some are invisible and some, like yours are there for the whole world to see. It's up to you to decide that no matter what, you're going to wear them with pride."

"I've turned you into a monster," he says. "A sensible monster will valid points."

I hand him my phone and challenge him. "Call Silas. Tell him you're ready to come back. Be brave."

He takes the phone from my hands. "If you're here, I'll be anything."

I sit down beside him on the bed. "Than be an inspiration and own who you are."

"I thought we did that already."

I grin. "We did, but sometimes it's okay to just be a work in progress."

"Yeah," he says, "It's not the worst."