Future Days

Too Beautiful

"Christopher put me downnnn!" My voice was shaking with every bouncy, long legged stride.

Chris had thrown me over his shoulder insisting my short legs would take days to make it into the studio from the parking lot. Through shrieking and giggles I begged Chris to put me down. Chris gave my butt a light smack and spun us in circles as Rooster barked and hopped up nipping at Chris shirt trying to help me out.

"Whose side are you on, Big Bird?!" Chris barked back at Rooster. His never ending nicknames make me laugh every time.

We finally make our way into the dimly lit studio and greet Jeff, Stone, Mike, and Matt who were setting up instruments to start recording.

"Ed insisted he had finished a couple songs for the album and we need to get them sent in to the label as soon as we can, but guess who is once again late." Stone rolled his eyes and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Relax Stone. He said he got a little preoccupied this morning and he'll be here soon. Whatever that means." Jeff rested a hand on Stones shoulder. Jeff always seems like the peacekeeper of the bunch around here.

He was preoccupied alright. My inner goddess was blushing like mad remembering our day Cornell had so rudely interrupted.

"While we wait you guys should help me convince Syd Vicious over here to get in the studio. She's got killer pipes." Chris' sharp elbow nudged into my ribs.

"Nope. No fucking way." I protested.

"Oh yeah? Hit us with something short stacks!" Matt spoke up from the black leather couch where he was banging his drum sticks on a matte black coffee table in front of him.

"No way dudes. Chris and Eddie are the only ones that think I'm any good. I'm just here to watch and admire you guys." I definitely don't belong in a recording studio.

"You mean Chris Cornell and Eddie Vedder, two of the most powerhouse vocalist in Seattle think you've got what it takes and you think they're wrong?" Mike insisted, raising a brow at me.

"C'mon Syd. One song. I'll leave you alone after that. Scouts honor." Chris held up his hand, swearing. Pleading me with those deep soulful blue eyes.

"Only if you help. I have songs written but I can't write music." I admitted embarrassingly.

"Deal. I'll just riff off you. Tell me how you want it and I'll do the best I can to aid to your sound." Chris eyes lit up and he beamed that gorgeous Cornell smile at me that made it hard to say no to him. He really is the best friend I've ever had.

"You sing and write? You've got my interest peaked, short stacks." Mike winked at me trying to further encourage me.

"Uhm...What do I do?"

"You just gotta sing, Syd. We'll help you figure out the rest. C'mon, I wouldn't be telling you to do it if I had even the slightest doubt in you. It's like free therapy in there. Just go let yourself fucking feel and put that into your music." Chris basically pleaded with me.

"I'll try. Whoever laughs will see the real Syd Vicious, I mean it." I eyed them all as intimidatingly as I possibly could.

I sat with Chris and Matt in the live room of the studio. Matt set at his kit and Chris and I sat on two twin black stools in center of a huge old funky looking rug. Chris adjusted the mic down to me to "Hobbit size", as he put it, before settling with an acoustic guitar in his lap.

My hands were clammy and trembling. My breathing was getting ragged and I felt like I could puke at any moment.

"Breathe, Sydney. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Can I try something though?" Chris raised a brow at me and then got up and walked to the door opening it and letting Rooster run in to greet me. The enormous German Shepard plopped his front legs on my lap and kissed me until I couldn't help but relax and laugh. "Pretend it's just you and Roo, at home on a rainy night just passing time singing your heart out. I know you can do it because I've heard you. Those floors aren't as thick as you'd think, Syd."