Declan's eyes lift to find his little brother across the room. Mason pats Beck on the back and nods solemnly.
"Beckbelievedin us. In the family. Inyou."
Beck swallows hard, like he's swallowing glass. Mason's face shatters, and across the room, Sawyer Stone dips his chin like he's witnessing something sacred. The only sound in the room is the shaky exhale of a man finally putting down twenty years of stolen childhood.
"That's what breaks my heart, Dad. Beck was the only one of us who still thought it was real, and it was thebestgoddamn thing about him. But you know what? I lied to him every single day to protect it. That's on me. I own that." His voice roughens. "But you built the lie, Dad. I just carried it."
Declan draws a long breath and leans back against his stall. He closes his eyes and takes a second to process, slowly exhaling through pursed lips.
He looks across to me, and I give a small, gentle bow of my head.
"Tonight, Dad… I don't want an apology, I don't want a relationship, I don't want anything from you anymore. This is me telling you I'm out."
The voice on the line comes back smaller, already spinning with desperation."You don't mean that. You're emotional, it was a big game—"
"And one more thing." Declan looks straight at Beck now, and he says the next parttohim, through the phone. "That'smychoice. And mine alone. If Mason wants to talk to you, or Zoey, or Beck… that's their choice to make. Not yours. Not mine. I'm not deciding things for them anymore. I'm not managing anybody. They're not projects." He finally smiles at his brothers. "They're my family."
He hangs up.
The phone sits on the bench. Years of hurt, ended in ninety seconds.
Declan exhales, and I swear I watch the weight leave him. His whole frame drops half an inch, like someone finally took the bags off his shoulders.
I move over and my hand slides over his back. He's shaking.
And Beck.
Beck's staring at his brother, eyes suspiciously bright, and I can see it landing on him in real time. The realization that the lie was never about managing him. It was a twelve-year-old kid deciding his baby brother deserved to keep believing in something good, and then never knowing how to stop.
Beck stands and crosses the room. The whole team parts like the world's sweatiest Red Sea.
For a second, the brothers just look at each other.
"...You're still an idiot," Beck says finally, voice rough.
Declan nods. "I know."
"And I'm gonna be mad about it for a while. Like, awhile. There will be passive aggression back at the mansion. Possibly even a diss track."
"That's fair."
"And you're buying my drinks until the playoffs. All of them. Even the embarrassing ones with umbrellas."
"You think we'll make the playoffs?" Declan asks, rising from his stall to stand chest to chest to his brother.
"If you play the way you did in that third period…" Beck twists his neck, shrugging.
Declan smirks and slaps Beck's shoulder with an open palm. "And just like that, you're not mad at me anymore."
He winks as Beck drags a hand down his face, and when it comes away, there's the old grin underneath. It's still cracked and a little watery, but it'sthere.
"Okay. Okay. Can wepleasejust go to Breakers now? I need about nine beers and I need at least four of them inside me before I process any of this."
The roombreaksinto laughter and relief, all of it crashing over everyone at once. Finn commences screaming something in Irish, Corbin is actually crying and pretending it's sweat, and I grab Declan by the face and kiss him, right there, in front of the entire roster and a floor covered in Gatorade.
The catcalls have never sounded better.
"TO NO MORE SECRETS!" Finn howls.
