Spin

Twenty-Four

[FINN]

"No, mate, just wait. You're going to fucking die, have you seen Finn do the McLovin impression?"

"How've I not heard about this?" Ace laughed, looking over at me expectantly. I shook my head, mindlessly strumming the guitar. "Let's see it."

"Do it, Finn. Do it," Jack nudged my shoulder harder than necessary as I laughed, shaking my head. "Come on, it's so fucking funny."

"Yeah, fine."

The pair of them were in fits as I shook my head after, unable to control my own laughter. We'd been in the studio for a few hours and it seemed as though the time apart had done us all good, the energy light and easy between the three of us.

Pete strolled in late per usual with a stupid grin on his face, tossing his backpack on the couch beside Jack.

"Speaking of impressions," I smirked, eyeing the atrocity on Pete's face. "Didn't know we booked a session with Willy Wonka."

"Piss off," Pete responded easily as Jack and Ace started cackling, taking note of his new sunglasses. "Jealous I look so good."

I reached over as he plopped down, stealing the circular white sunglasses off him and slipping them on. The lenses turned my world cherry red as I watched Jack dig through Pete's backpack, presumably on the hunt for weed.

"Where the fuck did you get these?" I laughed, handing the glasses back.

Pete happily accepted them, slipping them back into his hair.

"Lucy got 'em for me. Said I looked like a young Leonardo DiCaprio."

"More like bargain mart John Lennon but sure," I laughed as Pete frowned at me. "Lucy. That's still going?"

"Yes, it's still going. Don't sound so surprised."

Pete was naturally defensive and Jack couldn't help himself, interjecting happily.

"I'm no longer an atheist, Pete. There must be a God if he put a bird on this earth that would put up with you."

"Says the single one," Pete muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back. He idly watched Jack retrieve the weed and joint papers from his backpack, clearly only caring about the end result. "Think I'm going to spend Christmas with her folks in Bath."

"I'm happy for you, Petey," Ace offered, resuming his role as the band's Switzerland. "Genuinely am."

"As am I," I couldn't keep a straight face, Jack's knowing grin contagious. "Thought you'd never lose your virginity, congratulations man."

"Oh piss off, the lot of you."

After a bit more fucking around, we lit the joint and it worked its usual magic. Though the illegal herb was best known for having the opposite effect, for whatever reason, it was usually responsible for our band's collective best work. Even ADHD-case-study Pete was engaged and clocked in as we workshopped a few demos and experimented with different sounds.

The day had quickly slipped between my fingers and I was oblivious to the time as Dylan announced her arrival with a distracted greeting. Her eyes were glued to her phone as she sat down next to me on the shitty studio couch, thumbs flying, eyebrows furrowed.

Jack was in the booth strumming away and I had a thought on the tip of my tongue, standing up to head to the talkback button. Right on cue, Dylan mentally joined us.

"No, hi, hi, sorry, I'm here," she grabbed my sleeve, tugging me back down. Her smile was genuine but brief, immediately shifting back to business mode. "Productive day?"