Pictures And Some Memories

Thirty Six: Exposed.

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"Fuck!" a frustrated Alex exclaimed from the vocal booth, having trouble as he recorded the chorus of the song they had temporarily dubbed "Sugar Pop Smash." Obviously, this wasn't the real name, but it kept things lively while stuck in the studio for weeks. Today was no exception to how draining recording can be, and I was only here for half the day before I went to meet Zacky at his studio, and yet I felt my brain beginning to turn into mush.

However, that didn't mean I didn't listen to everything as I should and as Alex came out of the booth to get a refill on his water, I quietly suggested, "Maybe the opening 'I' in the chorus is too flat for how the rest of it is going, because otherwise your vocals are spot on with the melody and the feel of the chorus. I really hope you understand what I mean..."

He looked toward Mike Green, their producer, to see if he could decide what I was trying to say. I could tell that Mike and Alex alike had the same slight understanding, and after a quick discussion with terms that I knew existed but didn't have proper definitions for since I was a more unwilling, wallflower of a vocalist, Alex flew back into the booth and immediately nailed the opening note after an hour of trying. The room erupted into cheers, since this meant they could all break for two hours to eat and essentially, get out of the studio. I cheered, too, for it meant I was free to return outside again. I didn't move back to California to remain cooped up, after all.

"Alright, guys, I'm out of here," I called out as I gathered my things, despite not being able to find my keys.

"No, you're not," Alex said, twirling my keys around his slender finger playfully. "You and I have another songwriting session."

I groaned. "Not this again, Alex! I wrote that verse at 3 a.m. drunk in the backseat of a cab, of all places. I don't feel comfortable releasing it to the world."

"But Andi, your drunken verse is the best shit I've heard in a while, okay? I'm not saying it to fuck with you, you know I wouldn't do that."

"Yes, you would, you lying asshole!" I laughed, giving him a look. "Can we push this back to a different day? I really do need to go and meet Zack. I'm his ride home since his car's being serviced—"

"We get it, we get it, go to your man," Carly tossed playfully in my direction, taking her long blonde hair into her hands and twisting it into a perfect messy bun on the top of her head as she settled in front of the mixing board. Part of me felt immensely guilty, as she was only in town for a couple more days before she was set to return to her own studio in New York. Between sorting out the gallery, getting the band's touring schedule finalized, and the whole custody thing, my days were constantly busy, and I hadn't had much time to hang out one on one with her.

In turn, this meant that she and Alex had more time to argue, which they were doing plenty of. I worried that it was more than just the run of the mill bickering and something further, and I wanted to be there for both of my friends. Unfortunately, it'd just have to wait until later to be sorted out.

"I'll see you guys later," I called over my shoulder after gathering my bag and umbrella. "Take care of yourselves."

I only briefly heard the chorus of goodbyes before I carefully stepped out into the downpour, failing at navigating around the puddles in the path to my car. I couldn't help but feel anxious about it-- not only did I hate driving in the rain, it just seemed bad luck seemed to find its way into my life on the rainiest of days.

Once I was in the safety of my vehicle, the rain only a soft pattering on the roof and windshield, I pulled out my phone and sent over a text to Zack.