HADLEY
I can’t get Julian out of my head. He incinerated me last night, complete annihilation in an inferno that blazed hotter from the need to suppress our passion so we didn’t disturb Naomi. And yet, it still wasn’t enough. I still ached for more when I reluctantly left his apartment so we could get some rest for the next day. But it was a wasted effort.
There’s no sleep when you’re fresh out of bed with Julian Campbell.
I stare at my tired reflection the following morning, still feeling him, smelling him, tasting him. Yes, I’m straight-up craving him, there’s no other way to describe the heat burning low in my belly and the way my mind scours naked images of him in a constant loop. I can visualize every detail from head to toe, each memory fanning the flame into a sharp ache in my core, like I’ll explode if I can’t touch him in the next five seconds. And like a certifiable stalker, everything in me wants to run back upstairs to see if he’s awake yet. I’d settle for just watching him get dressed. Slowly pulling on his boxer-briefs with that wicked smirk and…
I groan and give myself a harsh evaluation in the mirror.
“You’re ridiculous,” I mutter, splashing cold water on my face. Figure this out, Hadley. This isn’t you. For the first time in almost a year, I consider calling out sick today.
But what if it is me? What if he’s bringing out new pieces of me like the surprising glimpses I’m getting of him? Water can be calm and cool; it can also flare into a raging boil when provoked by the right flame.
With the early call time today due to their recording session, I tell Viv I’ll meet her at the studio. Truth is, she’ll know the second she sees me something happened. Better that confrontation occur with witnesses present to stifle her reaction. The less people who know about what’s going on with Julian and me, the better. We both agreed it’s not the right time for Naomi to find out, and we already determined we have to be more discreet with future encounters.
We played with fire last night—and not just in a good way.
I take my time getting ready and driving to the studio, knowing I’ll just be in the way today. My plan is to set up in one of the lounges so I’m nearby if Viv needs me but not stepping on anyone’s toes. I’ve seen enough recording sessions to know how these things work. Remain invisible—that’s my part in the process.
When I arrive, it looks like they’re already underway, tracking Max on drums. I peek through the glass to watch him pound out a solo to whatever scratch track is playing in his ears. A minute later I slip my messenger bag off my shoulder and rest it against my leg as I park outside the window to the studio for good.
I’ve witnessed plenty of recording sessions with Viv, but as a solo artist, we never got to see this side of the song. By the time it got to her, the rest was already recorded and produced, only awaiting her signature vocal. I never got to experience the backend of the process before.
“It’s pretty cool, right?”
I jump at Viv’s voice. I was so enraptured I hadn’t noticed her approach.
“I just realized I never got to see this part. It was already done by the time we got involved.”
She nods, her face lighting up. “You should come hang with us in the control room. That’s where the real magic is happening. Your boyfriend is putting on a clinic in there.”
“What do you mean?” My annoying pulse instinctively picks up at the reference to Julian.
She slants her head in the direction of the control room, but it’s hard to see much from this angle outside the studio. “He’s giving Joel a run for his money. I have a feeling the two of them will either be duking it out in the parking lot by the end of the day, or leaving here as BFFs. They both have very strong opinions about what they want.”
“Isn’t Joel the engineer?” I ask, straining for a glimpse of the action. Still can’t see anything.
“Yeah, but apparently Julian knows his way around a console and is being very particular about how he wants things.” She doesn’t seem upset though, which makes me think her guy Joel is more on the impressed end of the spectrum than irritated.
“I don’t mind watching from here. I’ll just be in the way.” I turn back to the window and see Max has stopped playing. He appears to be having a conversation with himself, so I’m assuming he’s talking to someone in the booth. The thought that it could be Julian makes my stomach all quivery again. This is getting really old.
“No you won’t. The others are hanging out in a lounge somewhere. No one’s in there right now other than Julian and Joel. The couch is totally free.”
The couch? Viv is already tugging me into the studio now that Max doesn’t seem to be recording. He’s adjusting something on one of the drums and hits it as we pass. “Is that better?” he asks.
I glance at him but he’s looking toward the window to the control room. Julian is standing inside, leaning over to talk into a mic near the console. Max nods and fiddles with the drum again. Julian straightens and adjusts the studio headphones he’s wearing. He says something to Joel who’s seated beside him, and by Joel’s chuckle I’m guessing they’re well on their way to the BFF stage of their relationship.
Still not sure about any of this, I let Viv take the lead, and she pushes through the door into the control room. Julian turns and nods to her, then softens when his gaze rests on me. He’s about to say something when he ducks his head and presses his left hand to the large headphones he’s wearing.
“No, that’s even worse. Hang on. I’m coming out.” He rips off the headphones and hands them to Joel.
“Fix the mic on the floor tom while you’re out there,” Joel says, and Julian nods.
“We’re gonna be using samples soon,” he mutters, causing Joel to snicker. “Morning, ladies,” he tosses out on his way past. All business. Interesting. Yet another side of Julian Campbell.
“How’s it going?” Viv asks Joel once we’re alone.
“Not off to a great start, to be honest. We’re having some trouble with the kit, but gotta hand it to your boy. Dude knows his shit.” Yep, Joel is definitely on board with The Julian Show. Join the club.
I watch our resident bandleader crouch beside the smaller drum near where Max is seated and adjust something. Max passes him his sticks and Julian taps out a few hard hits followed by an impressive drum roll.
Joel startles us with a single loud clap and leans toward the mic. “That’s it! We’re good. Let’s get a check on the toms.” Julian flips the sticks back to Max and says something. Max nods and starts playing again. Joel lifts a thumbs-up through the window, and Julian starts back to the control room.
“I think we got it, man,” Joel says as Julian settles back inside and grabs his headphones.
“Great. Let’s run it again from the top. I didn’t like any of that.”
Viv taps my arm and motions toward the couch.
The rest of the day continues in this vein. Whether it’s the drums, bass, or guitar, Julian and Joel bark out orders to the musicians, while speaking to each other in a language I don’t understand. I hear terms like compression and EQ and frequencies and reverb, but it means nothing to me. They move a bunch of levers they call faders and adjust a bunch of knobs that might actually be called knobs? I don’t know, but watching Julian take charge and demonstrate such technical expertise turns out to be something my girl parts really like. It’s clear he and Joel are on the same wavelength while the rest of us wait to play our little part in their show.