Pain is just a river forming down me
Birds will sing their song over the beauty
You can't tell me this was all for nothing
I'm carving canyons
- "Carving Canyons," by Lissie_____________________________________________
The following weeks were a whirlwind of recording sessions in Los Angeles, band meetings, and occasional nights out. While it wasn't an actual vacation, it was nice not to be on a bus or a plane for a bit, to be able to sleep in my own bed, and to have a different kind of routine than constantly trying to find normalcy while away from home.
One afternoon, in the studio with the band, discussing the new album's direction. The band, Ian, and our producer, James, were all on board, but our label wanted us to consider whether it'd alienate our fans. We were, as a band, done fighting and we had decided to do what we wanted and ignore anything the label tried to say going forward. We'd play the game a bit, though, so that they didn't just shelf us either.
We were just shooting the shit on a break when I felt my phone buzz. It was a message from Lettie. We hadn't talked or texted, and I honestly hadn't thought about her too much since I left London. I didn't need to bring complications for or on anyone. But seeing her name flash on my screen made me smile.
"Hi, Alex! The suits are ready for delivery and should arrive in about a week! Hope you love them as much as I loved making them!" Her text made me smile wider, and I was excited to get the suits.
"Why you look like that, mate?" Matt asked. I knew my smile at the text would give my bandmates a crumb to take and use to torture me.
"Lookin' like what?" I countered with a laugh.
"Like you got a crush. Hardly the time to be lighting up like that," Matt said sarcastically.
I laughed it off and tried to play it cool to avoid them pestering me, "Just some business stuff."
Matt nudged me with his elbow. "Ian, got you smiling like that?"
I rolled my eyes. "No, not Ian. I should be getting two suits I got delivered soon."
The band exchanged weird glances, "Suits from Lettie?" Jamie said enthusiastically. "You're blushing, mate," he pointed out, earning a chuckle from the others.
"Just business, man," I said, downplaying it as much as possible.
"Tell your dick that," Nick chimed in, making a lewd gesture.
"You lot are children." I laughed it off.
This break gave us time to lay down some music and be fully immersed without any distractions or the pressure of shows. We spent long hours in the studio, recording some demos, defining the sound, and experimenting with new musical ideas. I was excited about the way things were going and sounding.
We had been in L.A. for about two weeks, and in about five days, we'd be off to Australia. This meant the delivery of my suits from Lettie was perfectly timed, and I'd be able to take them with me to Australia.
After Lettie texted me about the suits, I heard nothing else from her, not even an acknowledgment of my text back to her. It didn't feel like her style from what I had seen from our few interactions; I hoped everything was okay. But her lack of response only made me think about her more.
I don't know why I kept thinking about her; we had only spent a few days together, but she piqued something in me. After she had texted me about the delivery, I checked my phone more often, half-expecting a message from her just to be in touch, but she owed me nothing.
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Match Point
Fiksi Penggemarmatch point /ˈmaCH ˌpoint/ : a point marked on one pattern piece so it can be matched to a similar point on another pattern piece. Lettie, a skilled seamstress and stylist, is just starting to forge her own path when she's thrust into the music in...