Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

Chapter 13

Because we had to be in the studio so early that morning, we were out of bed before the sun had even risen, blinking bleary-eyed in the kitchen as we polished off toast and tea. I'd started to shiver. Was it excitement, or was it just really cold in the flat? I had no clue, but was rather too occupied by the constant press of John's leg against mine to consider it much. I knew he could feel me shaking. It made me a little self conscious, but when he reached beneath the table and stilled me gently, I felt a rush of affection and leaned into him, breathing in his scent. Currently, that was a strong cologne (he had only just put it on), and I didn't want to move even to eat.

"Don't worry, Jasmine," he spoke in a still-sleepy voice, "the studio isn't that scary. And besides, we'll all be there."

I was touched by his concern - he seemed to genuinely care!

"Thanks, John, it's just that I've never been, and-"

"Hopefully this will make you feel better, luv,"

He cut me off, before drawing in close and making heated eye contact, then tentatively reaching for my lips with his own, which were soft yet demanding. I could never get bored of this! Thank god everyone else had already eaten, who knows what snide comment Andy would've dropped, and besides, some things were best kept to ourselves. After a little while, he pulled away, still keeping eye contact softly, and returned to his breakfast.

I sighed contentedly.

Almost half an hour later, we were all clustered around the front door clad in woollen jackets, or in my case the stolen leather one, and hurrying to make sure we had everything before venturing out into the freezing morning. The sun still hadn't put in an appearance. That was shockingly obvious when we finally stepped out there, the bitter air burning our lungs suddenly, and shuffled stiffly down the metal steps toward the road. Much to my surprise, John slipped a gloved hand into mine as we wound through the dark streets, and the simple act made me feel so much safer (though the four other guys wouldn't have struggled to protect anybody). I gripped it tight. This time, it was his turn to shiver.

"Spring can't come quickly enough!" I mumbled from beneath my scarf - yet again, an item I'd conveniently borrowed.

"Oh, definitely. I'm not going to miss cold, dark walks to work in a few months."

Our breath froze instantly in the air, and we walked onwards, huddling closer together in a vain attempt for warmth.

When we reached the recording studio, the weak light of day was only just beginning to seep into the street, though it didn't feel at all warmer. The huge, glass-fronted building loomed like a great tower block over us, though it was only barely three storeys high. The energy of the place was what hit me the hardest; it just seemed so imposing. Perhaps it had nothing to do with the building itself, maybe was the expectations of us that were so daunting. Yet I couldn't stop staring.

For some reason, none of the others seemed as moved by it as I did, and while I'd been marvelling at the facade from afar, a technician had already let them in.

"Come on, Jasmine," John called after me from inside the door, "you'll freeze, and we have to start soon!"

At that, I snapped out of it and scurried in, grateful for the warm wave of air that washed over me when the door swung closed behind me. Whatever sense of foreboding the exterior had was certainly not carried on inside - in fact, it felt almost homely, like it was constantly inhabited by lively people. The walls were plastered with poster after poster, all local bands, the tile flooring well-worn on the passage to the actual recording studio itself, and there was an attempt at interior design in the form of some sofas and a ratty-looking table in a room on the way. I was last into the studio. The band themselves had already started setting up their various instruments left safely here overnight, and I was about to ask what I was meant to be doing, before a technician came up to me.