I'm With The Band - Alex Turner

7 - Too Much To Ask

AUTHORS NOTE
This chapter is dedicated to @Lanasamericanwhorexx. I'm not sure where their acc went, but her witty commentary will be greatly missed.

"Nick, can we hear that again?" James Ford, the producer asked, pulling out a recording device.

Nick began to strum the guitar he had picked up, playing the familiar riff that had been stuck in everyone's head since he first showed it to the group.

Aubrey turned to look at Alex, who's brow was furrowed in concentration. He sat with a small notepad balanced on his knee, where he would furiously write lyrics ever so often.

"Can you play it one more time?" Jamie grabbed his own guitar and watched intently as Nick played the riff once more.

Matt, who had been sprawled on the carpet of the studio, lifted his head off the ground and sat up.
"I like that one. It's catchy."

"Yeah that's kind of the point." Nick rolled his eyes, laughing. "You really like it?"

"I love it. I think it's got the sound we're looking for." James chimed in.

Aubrey stayed silent, simply observing. It was still early in the producing process, and while she had heard some couplets and riffs, she wasn't aware of any full song being ready to record. Brie, Katie, Breana and Aubrey all sat on the couch, listening in.

Alex insisted they all came to the studio every now and then, stating that it helped them all to have a couple extra pairs of ears.

"Alex, you have some lyrics that could work?" Matt asked, pointing a drum stick his way.

"I'm on it." He stood up, and walked out the door.

Aubrey smiled. She found it funny that he would disappear for a smoke break, and come back with the perfect words to fit whatever the moment asked for. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly he did it, no pen and paper required. This time, Aubrey followed, determined to figure out the process that evoked those magical lyrics stuck in her head.

"Got a smoke?" Aubrey peered her head around the corner.

Alex turned and smiled. "Haven't heard that one before."

"Oh, shut up and pass me a cigarette." She grinned back, leaning against the wall next to him. "How do you write?"

Alex passed her a lit cigarette before speaking up. "I don't really know that myself. It just kind of, comes to me and I let the ideas take the lead."

Aubrey laughed. "I can't relate. Whenever I write it takes me a good chunk of time just coming up with the first sentence."

"You just have to go with the flow. Whenever I try to just sit down and write, nothing good ever happens. I just need to be with my thoughts and see where that goes." He responded, taking a long drag.

"Yeah, but writing articles and editing them is a completely different form of language even." Aubrey countered, pointing her stub of a smoke his way.

"I have to disagree, no matter what or how you write, it all holds that same beauty. Words are powerful, doesn't matter the medium." He crushed the end of the cigarette under his shoe.

"That's because you have a way with them. A way i'll never understand." She raised her eyebrows, folded her arms and turned towards Alex.

"You underestimate yourself Aubrey." He moved closer, tucking a strand of stray hair out of her face. "I missed you."

"I've been at your side since you came back to New York, silly." She muttered, averting her eyes from his gaze.

"No, I missed YOU. It's been such a whirlwind these past few months. I missed talking. None of that messy shit, just you, me and a couple cigarettes."