Overkill

14 | birds of a feather

Moxie would simply never get tired of listening to Lana sing.

For someone who claimed to have no sense of direction when it came to being an artist, she knew her way around a recording studio better than most Moxie knew. Hell, even those who were born into the industry and knew it like the back of their hand since the day they were born. Lana would never allow Moxie to say it without protest, but she believed Lana outsing her, outperform her, outshine her any day of the week. Lana was naturally talented in that way people worked their entire lives trying to imitate, though Lana inherently understood what others strived for on a level that didn't require thought. Every note of every song unfolded in the perfect way that made every sound perfect. Although she had asked Moxie to join her in the studio to help fine-tune the song she was working on, Moxie couldn't think of a single note to give her, even when she racked her brain trying to come up with something for the sake of offering another opinion.

"How did that sound?"

Moxie pressed a button and spoke into the mic. "Perfect. I don't know how you do it."

Despite the shake of her head, Lana smiled before placing the headphones back on the stand and exiting the booth. She wore a Kings shirt that she snatched from their merch booth at the first show as if Moxie wouldn't have gotten her one of everything she wanted.

"I need you to be honest with me."

"I am being honest with you." Moxie slid the extra chair out with her foot and Lana sat down. "When have I ever not been honest with you?"

"You're too nice." Lana shook her head. "You don't like letting people feel even an ounce of self-doubt, so you sing their praises more than they probably need."

"Well, that's just..." Kind of true, when Moxie thought about it. She hated the idea that anyone would not feel supported by her, so she always tried to be optimistic and encouraging, even holding back when she knew she had something to say. But that wasn't the case here. Moxie genuinely couldn't find a single flaw in Lana's perfectly talented self. "I'm serious. That was great. Dad will love it."

"Maybe." Lana tossed her pink notebook onto the coffee table behind them. Papers and stickers and general junk sticking out between the bound pages. "Probably. He likes that I hate shitty men kind of theme."

"That's because he's dated some of the worst men known to mankind," Moxie remarked, unbothered.

Lana flicked her hair over her shoulder. "The difference is that he actually knows how to give me notes."

"He is still a man, after all. Can always trust them to give an opinion even when it's not warranted."

"Does it count as unwarranted when he's one of the reasons I'm even signed in the first place?"

Moxie stared. "A man. Enough said."

"Ay-yay, my favorite lesbian."

"Damn straight." She gave it a second thought. "Gay, I mean."

Lana laughed and let her head fall back so she could stare at the ceiling. Studios could get really quiet sometimes, for obvious reasons, but never with the kind of silence that felt uneasy, where thoughts would ruin rampant and make Moxie's head spin. It was a comfortable kind of quiet, especially with Lana's easygoing presence by her side.

The young starlet enjoyed recording in different cities whenever she could book a studio. She found it added to the allure of her songs feeling like snapshots of her life, glimpses of the places she was fortunate enough to visit. The Atlanta studio where they were holed up earned some bonus points for being across the street from some killer food. (Roxanne had volunteered to wait in line for them since she, in her own words, could not contribute shit to this song.)