THE GHOST IN YOU - IT [2]

chapter one

( warnings; mentions of failure to conceive, mentions of infidelity, mentions of a car accident )

"Alright. Go again."

Jaime is flinching before Kyle even rips his headphones off and slams open the recording booth door.

"Criss, this is the fourth time. Can you please tell me what I'm doing wrong, instead of being all fucking vague about it? 'Oh, it didn't sound natural enough. Oh, it sounded like you were being held at gunpoint to sing.' I never said I was good at singing!"

Behind Jaime, on a plush blue couch, trying to make themselves as small as physically possible, were Curtis and Abi, Kyle's (regretful) bandmates. If Elliot were here, he'd be giving Kyle that deathglare, that deathglare that always made everyone shut up instantly.

Jaime Criss leans back in her office chair, stretching her arms over her head in exhaustion. "Kyle, please don't take offense to this, but you sounded like you had your hand down your pants throughout that entire thing. And yes, you are good at singing, you've been the lead singer for a decade. You're amazing, in fact. One of the freshest voices in alternative rock. But you're not utilizing that here. It sounds like you don't even like the lyrics you're singing, which, let me remind you, you wrote. If it's that difficult for you, we'll scrap the song. Which, just seems silly, as Elliot already recorded his guitar part and Abi's working on the bass tabs right now..."

The more she spoke, the more Kyle visibly relaxed. His shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his orange-hued curly locks. By the conclusion of Jaime's tangent, a bashful look fell upon his freckled face. She knew she had him, which was quite rare. Although Jaime adored working with the popular alternative rock band, Throw Dart, Kyle was more ego-fueled than most frontmen she'd heckled with in the past. She couldn't help but admire his sense of determination and work ethic, but often she had to ask him if he even wanted a producer here, since it seemed like he had his shit all figured out. At this, he would always clam up a bit, which Jaime would assume was due to the prospect of producing an album himself. But really, it was because the entire band looked up to Jaime's production. They knew they'd plummet without it. When she stopped producing for a semi-popular indie band a few years back, their content drastically went downhill. Jaime Criss was a good name to have attached to your work. Kyle wouldn't throw that away.

"Well, we could make it an instrumental." Abi pipes up, voice small and feeble. Jaime spins around in her chair to face the girl.

"No, no way." Kyle shakes his head vigorously.

Curtis, utterly bored with the situation at hand, glances up from his phone idly. "Then stop sounding like a strangled cat, mate."

"Oh, okay, Curtis. Why don't you try it, huh?"

"Try what?"

"Singing, mate. Give it a shot. Tell me how that works out for you."

Curtis shakes his head with a scoff. "I can sing, you know. But I'd rather drum."

"Funny, because if I recall, drummers are the most replaceable members..."

Jaime claps her hands together. "Enough! God, you guys are almost thirty and you're acting nineteen again." She stands abruptly from the soundboard, now level with Kyle. "Just go home. It's half past ten, and quite frankly, you all are a mess without Elliot. He better not still be sick on Monday, but if he is, I will personally go to his house and feed him some suburban white mom detox shit to get him here. My God."

The three bandmates exchange reluctant, almost fearful glances, then hesitantly nod. Jaime sighs in relief, rubbing her temples with her hand.

"Okay. Sorry, guys. I'm just..."