Blood And Guitars

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Two days later I was so excited about getting into the studio to do some more recording, that even getting lost on the way to Karatz’s new place couldn’t put a damper on my mood. (That’s saying something considering it was only eight in the morning.) I called Karatz, pleaded guilty to idiocy, and got directions so I could find the place. He told me to pull around to the side of the house since his studio was a separate structure in the back. The last house Karatz owned had been a nice place, but I could tell immediately that this one would put it to shame. I also knew I would be jealous the minute I saw the studio building. To start, there was enough room for like eight cars to park around back. Chase’s car was parked there, as was Jonas’s. The studio looked like a small house in itself. I opened the door and walked inside the entryway. The hardwood floors beneath my feet were immaculate and shining and the ten foot ceilings made the space feel really open. I glimpsed a door to the left that looked like it might be a bathroom, and then continued on inside where I came upon the lounge area. Karatz and O’Shea were sitting on a large sofa and Chase was texting on his phone when I walked in.

“Hey, you made it,” Karatz teased.

“Barely,” I retorted. “A guy could get turned around in your private parking lot back here.”

Karatz shrugged and said. “Don’t complain if you don’t want to have to walk in from the street.”

I laughed and looked over at my best friend. “Where’s your car?” I realized it hadn’t been in the parking lot.

“I caught a ride with Chase,” O’Shea said. “And even he managed to find the place okay.” I glanced around, wondering if I had missed Jonas somewhere along the way.

“He’s on his way,” O’Shea said, picking up on my search.

I nodded and said, “Do we have to wait for him to get the tour?”

“Do I look like a tour guide?” Karatz said, “I’ll head into the kitchen and get everyone some water. You guys can show yourselves around.”

“Works for me,” O’Shea said. I watched Kratz exit the opposite side of the lounge where I glimpsed a refrigerator and a bunch of cupboards. That was when I realized the studio had its own kitchen. I was already jealous. I followed O’Shea down a little hallway where we found a spacious control room with a top of the line soundboard. Across from it were the main recording room and a drum booth, separated from the control room only by a large window. Further down was a live room. If the place would have belonged to someone else I would have pulled out my check book and made an offer. It was just that great.

“Can you believe this place?” O’Shea mused.

“I’m trying to decide why I don’t have a house like this,” I said.

“We’re not technically in the house. Besides, your house is fine.”

“Okay then, at least a studio like this,” I corrected.

“No idea. Maybe you should do some building on.”

Chase bumped into me from behind and stared ahead, his jaw dropping at the sight of the live room we were gazing into.

“Hey dad, where’s my room?” O’Shea teased when Karatz walked up from behind and found us standing around and gawking.

“Don’t act like you’re not going to fall asleep all over the place,” Karatz said with a chuckle. “It hasn’t been that long since we recorded ‘Recycled Coma’ and this ain’t my first rodeo.”

“Did someone say something about a rodeo?” Jonas asked from behind.

“Good, you’re all here.” Karatz ushered us into the control room. There were a few plush chairs on wheels in front of the soundboard, and one long sofa against the back wall. The monitors mounted at angles toward the front of the room were modest in size but top of the line. Chase and Jonas plopped down onto the couch and I walked up to the soundboard, coveting the equipment as I scanned it with my eyes.