Blood and Guitars (15 page)

“I’m going to go inside and get this little
guy down for his nap.” She kissed the baby on the top of his head
and bounced him gently as she walked out of the room.

Ken had gotten comfortable in a high back
leather chair on wheels in front of the computer and all the
equipment. He was poring over a bunch of curvy lines on the screens
that must have been sound waves.

Trey gestured to the couch where I took a
seat. Two-thirds of the wall that stood before Ken at the head of
the room was a window. This allowed a perfect view into the room
where it was obvious most of the recording would take place. Trey
handed me a bottle of water and then took a drink of his own.

“I promise to do everything in my power not
to put you to sleep during this process.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Ken interrupted
without looking up from his screen. “This kid has some amazing
pipes. He makes the whole process of recording vocals way too easy
for me.” Trey waved a dismissive hand at Ken who added, “He paid me
to say that.”

“I’m looking forward to hearing you sing
again,” I said, making Trey pause. He gazed at me, unable to hide
the mild interest in his clear blue eyes.

“Well, you heard the lady,” Ken said. “Get
your skinny butt in the booth already.”

“No pressure then.” Trey grinned, holding up
both hands as he backed away toward the door. He went into the
sound room and he and Ken began checking the sound levels on the
microphone that was set up for him. I glanced around the room,
which aside from the desk with all of the equipment, and the couch
I was sitting on, was almost bare. The only other piece of actual
furniture in the room was a tall bookcase to my left and near the
back wall. There were a bunch of photo albums on the second shelf
from the top. Ken glanced over his shoulder at me and caught me
staring at the book case.

“Feel free to browse,” he said kindly. “The
black photo book on the left has some stuff that would probably
amuse you.”

I raised an eyebrow but he turned back to the
computer without further explanation. Vampires are curious
creatures, and so it was only in my nature to go to the book case
and retrieve the black photo book Ken had suggested. The name of
Trey’s band was engraved on the spine of the book. Sufficiently
intrigued, I carried it back over to the couch and opened the
cover. The pictures in the first sleeve were just random candid
shots of Trey and the other guys in the band I had just met. Ken
was in most of the photos, too, which explained why he had them in
a book, but not why there was an entire album of such pictures. The
next three pages were full of the same kind of pictures, front and
back, then when I turned to the fourth page, things got
interesting. I was only mildly aware of Trey and Ken continuing
their little sound check as I gazed at the enlarged photo on the
fourth page. It was Trey and his band mates each holding a large
black frame. Behind the glass was a giant picture of what appeared
to be an album cover. The black lettering on it said ‘Recycled
Coma’. To the right of the photo was a CD. At the bottom was a
silver plaque with an engraving. My mind was quick to process what
I was seeing, but I still had a hard time believing it. This was a
picture of Trey and his band mates accepting platinum record
awards.

Platinum. As in selling a
million
copies.

I forced my mouth not to fall open as I gazed
up at Trey. O’Shea was talking to him now, (their conversation was
coming through the speakers). Trey grinned at me, unable to see the
open album in my lap. Still disbelieving, I tried to smile back. I
looked down at the picture again, shocked by the significance this
one photo held. I flipped the page and found some pictures of the
band onstage. One of them included a shot of the crowd, which was a
giant mass of teenagers and college-aged kids. Needless to say, I
was learning a lot more about Trey in just a few moments than I had
expected to in this entire day. The surprises just kept on coming.
I continued flipping through the pages, finding newspaper clippings
with articles about the band and more photos. I even found a copy
of a Billboard chart where Catalyst was ranked number one for a
song called “Filtered Ache.”

“Filtered Ache”…. The name of the song was
familiar. It had been all over the radio last summer and more than
once I’d been painting to the sound of it in my loft at three in
the morning. I hadn’t given a second thought to which band had sung
it, mostly because I had quit caring about that sort of thing years
ago. Clearly, that was something I needed to change. Although, upon
further thought, I recalled hearing mention that the artists had
been a local band. Once again, I hadn’t given it another thought.
My internal dialogue was interrupted when music began to drift
through the large speakers in front of Ken. I reacted by setting
the photo album next to me on the couch and looking up at Trey.

“You’re going to like this.” Ken glanced over
his shoulder at me briefly

Trey looked adorable standing there in front
of a big old fashioned-looking microphone with his giant head
phones on. I listened to the guitar driven intro and watched as
Trey closed his eyes in preparation to sing. Almost instantaneously
he was in a zone. It was strange to witness, and for a second I was
disconnected from him, like he was on another planet. Then he
opened his mouth and the words began to pour from him like water
from a broken dam.

“If you could turn up the temperature just
long enough

to thaw out that layer of ice you carry
around.

Maybe for a minute, just one whole minute

you’d see well enough to burry the pain that
surrounds.

“You took the sleeve that I wore my heart
on

and ripped it into shreds.

I should have known better than to
believe

but I wanted to be here.

You don’t belong here.

“These words … you used

to captivate me, paralyze me

Those words … I know were lies, lies,
lies

Part of your sweet disguise….”

The disconnected feeling was gone as suddenly
as it had come. It wasn’t only the words he sang, but the sting of
heartache in the edges of his voice as it carried through the
speakers. Without realizing it, I’d risen to my feet and was
walking slowly toward the glass to be closer to him. The song was
an intense one, and Trey’s singing was fairly aggressive at parts,
but the sandpaper like quality in his voice was ever present, just
like it had been the night I’d heard him sing at Carlie’s. I’d been
distracted by my thirst that night, and hadn’t taken the time to
stop and dissect the almost perfect pitch he sang in. Coming from a
vampire with superior hearing, that’s saying a lot. The minutes
flew by like seconds and before I knew it, he was singing the last
heart-wrenching note. He opened his eyes to find me staring
intently at him through the glass. Immediately the familiar
half-smile I’d come to know stretched across his lips.

“What do you think?” he asked into the
microphone.

I smiled and opened my mouth to speak before
I realized he wouldn’t be able to hear me.

Anticipating my problem, Ken slid his chair
to the side and said, “Here. Press this button to talk back.”

I stepped up to the desk next to him and
pressed the square black button he’d gestured to. “That was
amazing,” I said, watching Trey through the glass as I spoke.

“You’re still awake so that’s a good sign,”
he teased. I smiled at the irony of his words. He didn’t know that
on a normal day I would have still been asleep in bed, as sundown
was still a few hours away. “I’m glad you like it.”

Ken and Trey discussed what they wanted to
change and prepared to run through the song again.

Trey’s blue eyes were on me. His gaze was
piercing, even through the glass. It was strange the way he looked
at me. I felt exposed somehow, but I couldn’t get myself to look
away. It was as if I was seeing him for the first time. I wondered
what else I would learn about him before the day was over. We
maintained eye contact until the intro was done and then he smiled
and closed his eyes again before he began to sing the first
verse.

“I told you he was good,” Ken said after a
minute. I could hear the proud smile in his tone.

“He’s incredible,” I agreed without taking my
eyes off of Trey.

“He’s one of the most talented guys I’ve met
in a long time,” Ken continued while Trey’s voice boomed from the
large speakers. I turned around to look at Ken then, seeing the
admiration in his eyes as he watched Trey through the large window.
“Trey is a natural at everything he does, and the kid’s got heart,”
he added after a moment. “That’s not something you find often in
young musicians today.”

“Not just musicians,” I stated.

Ken smiled and said, “Too true.”

I went back to my place on the couch and
picked up the photo album. Flipping through the pages again, I
tried to come to terms with the fact that I’d been hanging out with
a real rock star. And now I was sitting in a fancy recording studio
with a big shot producer while Trey was singing a song that would
probably be on the radio in the not-so-distant future. I stared at
the many pictures of Trey and his band mates playing their
instruments, pulling faces at the camera, and signing autographs
and I began to wonder if I knew him at all. Then the words Trey was
singing pulled me back into the moment and I looked up from the
book again to watch him. I listened for a while, unable to deny the
way I was drawn to him.

Maybe I didn’t know everything about him. I
was hardly in a position to complain about that. I had secrets,
too. And it wasn’t as if Trey had tried to hide this part of his
life from me. He’d brought me here tonight, hadn’t he? He’d
obviously figured out that I was completely clueless and wanted to
find a gentle way to remedy that. He wasn’t being arrogant or even
bragging, even though he had plenty of cause to. That was the kind
of man I could spend a little time getting to know better. So what
if he was human? I was good at keeping secrets.

Trey finished his second take on the song and
I set the scrapbook down on the armrest of the couch before he
walked inside the sound room again. Ken opened his buzzing phone
and then muttered something about needing to run into the house for
a moment. Trey stepped aside to let him pass and then crossed the
room to sit next to me.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I asked.

Trey’s brow furrowed in confusion, but only
briefly, then his eyes flicked to the photo album next to me and a
look of understanding washed over his face. “Yeah, about that…”

“I guess I should have Googled you or
something,” I interrupted. “I had no idea.”

He laughed and shifted on the couch to face
me better. “I know,” he said softly. “I … uh … I kind of liked that
you didn’t know.” He looked a little embarrassed. “I should have
told you sooner,” he added. “But, it was just so nice for a
change.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Being in this band,” he added.
“Our success … it makes it hard to meet people.”

“If you hadn’t brought me here tonight, I’d
still be clueless.” I smiled at him. “I told you, I’m no good at
keeping track of bands.”

He chuckled again and then his face grew more
serious as he gazed at me, his hand falling to rest on mine. “I’m
sorry if I blindsided you. I just thought that you wouldn’t agree
to come with me tonight if I told you. And that’s only if you
believed me in the first place.”

I considered his words. He’d had every right
to worry. I probably wouldn’t have come had I known. Not only was I
hanging around with a human, but a famous one. That only added to
the liability.

“You’re right,” I admitted. “But I’m glad I
came.”

He brushed his thumb over the top of my hand
slowly and smiled again. “So am

I.”

“The good news is you could probably sell
that painting you did last night on eBay for a few thousand bucks,”
I added, grinning. Then, in another twist of irony, I realized that
meant his painting of a manure-colored guitar was worth more money
than any painting I had hanging at The Waking Moon.

Ken returned just then and played back the
song for us. Trey listened intently, and I thoroughly enjoyed the
way his face changed when he was satisfied with different parts of
the song, compared to those parts he wanted to change and fix. He
really did wear his heart on his sleeve. He was more real and
candid than any vampire I know, which is probably why I hadn’t
really been tempted to prod his mind while we’d been hanging out.
With Trey, there really wasn’t a need.

I half listened while he and Ken discussed
some changes to the way he was singing the song. With the exception
of a few water breaks and a trip to the bathroom, Trey stayed in
the recording room for the next two hours, singing his heart out.
By the time Trey was wrapping up the vocals, the rest of the band
had gathered in the sound room to listen since they’d been coming
and going throughout the process. Trey appeared in the doorway and
gestured for me to follow him.

“I’ll try and piece this together if you guys
want to break for dinner,” Ken said.

“I already ordered pizza.” Chase checked the
time on his phone. “Should be here in ten.”

“Perfect,” Trey said as I approached him.
“I’m starving.”

“One more round of foosball,” Jonas urged
Chase and O’Shea.

“Loser pays for dinner,” Chase stated,
jumping to his feet.

“Fine by me.” O’Shea looked mildly amused. He
kicked up his feet on the sofa. “I left my wallet home.”