The man shook his head. “It’s his process, man. He gets inspired by his entourage.”
Cerys edged in and could see the recording studio had even more people in it. Two women were dancing in stripper heels in front of the isolation booth. Guess people needed their creativity kick-started in lots of different ways. But, she could tell the team was tired. Rahim put his head on the desk and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Jimmy,” she said loudly. “We need this studio in sixty minutes. This is going to have to move into Studio Two.”
All eyes in the room shifted to her, including Jimmy’s.
“Who’s coming in?” he asked.
“Sad Fridays. They wanted an early session. I’m going to need you to take this to Studio Two, but the only problem with that is it’s the one without separation between production and performance. So, only you, your team, and the artist can step in there.”
Seated guy stood. “Why can’t they use the other studio?”
“Ah, there are five of them. Lots of instruments. Need the isolation booths. Sorry. And I’m going to need the hallways cleared because I have to move drum kits. I’m sorry, I’m Cerys, Jimmy’s operations manager.”
“I’m Young Punk’s A&R rep, Trey. We booked Jimmy and this studio.”
Young Punk. What a perfect name for a scrawny Eminem wannabe.
Cerys smiled. “You did. And we are so glad you are here. But you booked it for twelve hours, which you have already overrun by nearly seven hours. I think the studio has been more than accommodating.”
“Young’s not done.”
“Unless he moves into Studio Two, without everyone else, and my hallways are empty within the next fifteen minutes, I’m afraid he is.”
Trey looked at Jimmy. “We need this song.”
Jimmy shrugged. “You heard Cerys. We need to switch. If you could get everyone moving out, and we’ll go open up Studio Two.”
Trey looked as though he was going to argue, but one of his colleagues whispered something in his ear and they all left the room.
“Rahim, go get some air, grab a coffee.” Once empty, Jimmy looked at Cerys. “Generally, I don’t like anyone giving instruction while I work, other than me. But honestly, I was praying for a thunderbolt to come take me out of my misery.”
“I’m taking it’s gone well, then.”
Jimmy sat down in the chair. “New rapper, actually has tons of talent, but he’s surrounded himself with a crew of friends who, quite frankly, know jack shit about music production, but think they do. Standing over Rahim’s shoulders, fiddling with shit they don’t know how to use, interfering with every single suggestion and decision. Ended up getting half of two songs recorded.”
“What’s with the huge entourage?”
“It’s part of the image. I see it on riders and the likes all the time. They keep their crew close. Hype guys. Dancers. And a litany of advisors whose only qualification to advise the artist is they grew up with them. At least Young Punk is signed to a decent label. And for all Trey can be a bit of a bulldog, he’ll see him right.”
“But what about you? You must be exhausted dealing with all this?”
“Maybe, but seeing I’m billing Trey double for the over run, I don’t feel too shit about it.”
“Right. Well. You take five. I’ll go make sure the studio is cleared out. And I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”
“Perfect,” her dad said, leaning back, closing his eyes. “Come get me when everything is set up. Oh, and do you want to sit in with me to bring it over the line?”
Cerys grinned, even though he couldn’t see her. “Would love to.”
“Wait, we didn’t talk about your trip. I feel shitty sending you up there for some documents.”
Wait. Had the band not told them where Jase was? Had they made excuses for him? Shit. Had Jase even told the band where he was? It was the one thing she hadn’t discussed with him.
“Here,” she said, settling on a strategy of distraction as opposed to honesty, as she reached into her bag to pull them out. There was no way she was going to tell him anything about what had happened when he was running on zero sleep in the last twenty-four hours and they had only ten minutes for a discussion. “It was fine. Just too much snow to make it home on Sunday. We can catch up later. Let me go check people are moving.”
She hustled out into the corridor and found that Trey was doing as promised. People were leaving, the roar of engines outside attested to it. Even though it was frigid outside, Cerys wedged the doors wide open to let some fresh air into the place.
As the coffee dripped into the pot, she grabbed two mugs, one for her, one for her dad.
Jase had told her to create space for herself. She’d done that this morning. She’d seen an issue, figured out a game plan, and put it in motion. And as a result, her father had asked her to sit in on the end of the recording session. Not bad for a morning’s work.
Tugging her phone from her jeans pocket, she thought of Jase, likely still tucked beneath the covers of his hotel bed, and suddenly wished she were there with him. Not even seven o’clock. Quickly, she typed a message.
At the studio, but suddenly wishing I was in bed with my boyfriend getting a couple of hours’ extra sleep.
She grinned as she poured the coffee, and as she reached into the fridge to grab the milk, her phone buzzed.
Half asleep, wishing my girlfriend was in bed with me so I could fall back to sleep with her in my arms.
There was a pause, little dots bouncing.
Too cheesy?
Definitely not. See you later.
Not soon enough <3
Jase had felt the buzz since he’d gotten up that morning. After the messages from Cerys, he’d been unable to sleep. Excitement and nerves battled within him. The gym had been empty and had done little to burn off his surplus energy. Then he’d attempted to talk to the rest of the band over breakfast, but Matt had been on the phone with Iz, then Ben and Alex had stepped out to call their mum. When they’d returned, Luke had disappeared.
Now they were in the studio, and he’d not seen signs of Cerys, but the recording light was on in Studio Two, and there was a note on the screen for them to temporarily set up in Studio One.
He took a breath. “Can I have a word?” he asked. “While no one else is in here?”
Matt looked at him. “Can’t it wait until lunch?”
Jase shook his head. “I’ll puke if I have to wait that long.”
Luke scoffed. “Dramatic much.”
“Nah, mate. Like, serious shit.”
Matt put his bass in the rack. He hopped down off the stage and sat on the edge. Ben stood near Alex, and Luke remained on his stool.
Holy shit.
Wave.
Wave.
“What’s up?” Matt asked.
“I wrote a song. And I want you to hear it. And then I’ve got something else I need to say.”
For a moment, his feet forgot to move.
“You just going to sing it a-cappella, singer boy?” Luke’s words cut through him, but to be fair, he’d never once apologised to Luke for what he’d done. And maybe he needed to. But if he apologised to anyone personally it should be Matt.