and the stars will all come out

chapter six! ☆

IT WAS ADAM KASPER'S FIRST DAY BEING AT THE CABIN, AND A NEWFOUND SENSE OF HOPE SHOT THROUGH DAVE AT THE FACT.

"So, what are we thinking?" the producer said as soon as the Foo Fighters had all assembled into the basement, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Pretty much the antithesis of nu metal," Dave told him excitedly. "Whatever the hell LA is doing right now, I want none of it."

Adam gestured around at the expanse of emptiness that was the basement. Whatever Dave was promising, it certainly felt empty at the moment.

"Uh, are you planning on getting any equipment first?"

"No, actually, we're indie, I'm gonna be playing the drums with a few crushed beer cans," Taylor said sarcastically, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Everyone ignored him.

"Uh, Andrew Gold?" Dave said blankly, turning on his heel to look at Nate. "Gerry Rafferty? Peter Frampton? Helen Reddy? The Beatles? I was thinking the album's gonna sound like that kind of stuff."

Nate nodded rapidly, his hands also in his pockets. He seemed more meek than usual, which surprised him. "I'm on board with that, yeah."

"I see what you're thinking," Adam said appreciatively, nodding too, and he seemed deep in thought; his producer senses seemed to be tingling. "Melody-based. Simple. Raw."

"We're breaking the mold, dude," Taylor told him. "We're gonna break the fuckin' mold."

"I'm going to Nashville for the soundboard, probably," Dave said. "Just gotta get a few more things sorted out first."

"There's this girl," Taylor told Adam. Something in his voice told Dave he was going to make fun of him. "You're probably gonna see her around. Her name's Landry."

Adam's eyebrows flew up. "How new is this?"

"Er...just a few weeks," Dave told him, scratching that spot on the back of his neck that got unbearably itchy whenever he was nervous. "She's coming over later today, we have some shit we need to move in here. She wanted to help."

This was true: he picked up her awkwardness around Nate and Taylor when she'd been introduced, but he'd also picked up the way Landry's eyes had shone at the thought of a "next time" when he'd accompanied her out to the car parked in the driveway, the moon shimmering high over the trees.

"Nice," Adam said, in that annoyingly neutral kind of way that obscured any sort of vocal hint that told Dave what he was thinking about, "Nice. That's great."

But he was still looking at Dave with that look in his eyes, and Dave was almost offended.

Goddamn, why was literally everyone expecting him to write about her?

He paused.

Should he be writing about her?

"Let's get to work," Nate suggested, and Dave jumped out of it.

☆

IF IT WASN'T TOO BLASPHEMOUS TO SAY, IT WAS A HOPEFUL DAY FOR LANDRY, TOO: she pulled up to the cabin in her fucked-up Volvo, biting her lip so hard it actually stung to hold back her grin as she shoved the gearshift forward and parked the car. To her surprise, it actually shuddered to a stop without complaint.

"How's it going?" Hope probed her, nudging her with the bottom of an empty bottle of whiskey. They were sitting on the floor in Hope's bedroom, and for the first time in years, this felt like when Hope's house was a safe haven for Landry in high school. "Where are you hoping for it to go?"