Chapter Text
Cade leaned back on the leather couch in his downtown Detroit apartment, one arm stretched across the backrest, phone balanced loosely in his hand. Jalen stood in the kitchen doorway, halfway through demolishing a protein bar, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Just hear me out,” Cade said casually.
“That’s never a good start,” Jalen replied, chewing. “Last time you said that, I ended up on a jet ski in Lake St. Clair in March.”
Cade smirked. “And you survived.”
“Barely.”
Cade sat up a little. “Okay, but this is different. Way more low-key. Peaceful. No freezing water.”
Jalen narrowed his eyes. “What are you plotting?”
“I’m not plotting anything,” Cade said, which was exactly what someone plotting something would say. “I found this cabin. Middle of nowhere. Like actually nowhere. No paparazzi, no fans, no interviews, no trainers calling at 6 a.m. Just woods. A lake. A dock. A week.”
Jalen blinked. “A week?”
“Yeah.”
“In the woods.”
“Yeah.”
“With no Wi-Fi.”
Cade hesitated half a second too long. Jalen pointed at him. “There it is. I knew it.”
Cade laughed. “Bro, when’s the last time you went a full day without your phone?”
“When’s the last time you went a full day without watching film?” Jalen shot back. Cade thought about that for a second, but came up short.
“Exactly." Cade said. "We both need it.”
Jalen tossed the wrapper into the trash. “Why?”
Cade’s tone shifted—still light, but more honest. “Because the season’s gonna be crazy. You know that. The Pistons are trying to build something real. Expectations are different now.”
Jalen leaned against the counter, listening. Cade continued, “Everywhere we go, somebody wants something. A quote. A picture. A breakdown of pick-and-roll coverage.” He gave Jalen a look. “You need at least one week where nobody needs you to set a screen.”
Jalen snorted. “You need a week where nobody asks you to save the fourth quarter.”
Cade shrugged. “Maybe.”
The apartment went quiet for a moment.
“You serious?” Jalen asked.
“Dead serious. I already checked it out. It’s about three hours north. No neighbors for miles. Private lake. Wood stove. Kayaks. Grill. That’s it.”
Jalen raised an eyebrow. “You already checked it out?”
“I drove up last weekend.” Cade said, shrugging his shoulders.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I needed to see if it was legit before pitching it,” Cade said smoothly.
Jalen stared at him. “You’re insane.”
“You’re coming though.”
“That wasn’t a yes.”
Cade stood, stretching. Even relaxed, he carried that quiet confidence—the same one he had walking into arenas, same one he had when the ball was in his hands and the clock was bleeding out.
“You trust me?” Cade asked. Jalen didn’t even hesitate.
“Of course.”
“Then come off the grid with me for a week.” Cade ended, looking at him hopefully.
Jalen exhaled slowly. “No trainers?”
“Nope.”
“No cameras?”
“None.”
“No random people yelling ‘Duren!’ when I’m trying to eat?”
“Not a soul.”
Jalen crossed his arms. “And what exactly are we supposed to do in the woods for seven days?”
Cade’s grin widened. “Fish. Hike. Cook. Talk. Compete over dumb stuff. You’ll probably try to race me swim-" “And I will beat you in swimming,” Jalen cut in immediately.
“You absolutely will not.”
Jalen shook his head, fighting a smile. “You really think we can just disappear for a week?”
Cade’s voice softened again. “Not disappear. Just…reset.”
Jalen looked down at the hardwood floor for a second, then back up at Cade. “If there’s a bear, I'm running. I’m faster than you.”
Cade laughed. “That’s actually foul.”
“You said off-the-grid. That’s bear territory.”
“I’ll bring a whistle.” Cade said, compromising.
“You bring a whistle,” Jalen said, walking back toward the kitchen, “and I’m not going.”
Cade followed him. “So that’s a yes?”
Jalen grabbed another protein bar and pointed it at him like a warning. “If this cabin doesn’t have decent beds, I’m driving back.”
Cade’s smile turned victorious. “You’re not driving back.”
“We’ll see.”
Cade clapped him on the shoulder. “Pack light. We leave Sunday.”
Jalen paused. “Wait. Sunday?”
Cade was already heading for his room. “Yeah.”
“You planned this whole thing without me.”
“Obviously.”
Jalen laughed despite himself. “You’re crazy.”
From down the hall, Cade called back, “You’re coming though.”
Jalen shook his head, but he was smiling now.
Yeah, he was coming.
–
By Sunday afternoon, the city skyline of Detroit had long disappeared in the rearview mirror. The highway thinned. Then the towns. Then even the gas stations became rare. Jalen stared out the window as trees closed in on both sides of the narrow road.
“You weren’t joking about nowhere,” he muttered.
Cade tapped the steering wheel in rhythm with some pop song playing through the speakers. “That’s the point.”
Cell service dropped to one bar. Then none. Jalen lifted his phone, watching the signal vanish. “We’re officially ghosts.”
Cade looked at him with a small but satisfied grin. “Good.”
Another ten minutes and the pavement turned into gravel. The car rolled slowly down a winding path lined with thick pine trees. Sunlight filtered through in broken streaks. Then the trees opened up.
The cabin sat near the edge of a quiet lake, water still like glass. No boats. No docks nearby except one small wooden stretch that clearly belonged to them. Smoke curled faintly from a metal chimney pipe.
Jalen got out of the car slowly, scanning the silence. No traffic. No voices. Just wind through leaves and distant water brushing against shore.
Cade stepped beside him.
“Well?” he asked.
Jalen took it in—the wide sky, the scent of pine, the stillness that felt almost unreal.
“…Okay,” Jalen admitted. “This is kinda cool.”
Cade bumped his shoulder lightly. “Told you.”
They grabbed their bags from the trunk. As Jalen shut the car door, the sound echoed more than it should have in the quiet.
For the first time in a long time, there was nothing scheduled.
No practice.
No film.
No cameras.
Just seven days and whatever they were going to find out about each other when the noise was gone.