Blood and Guitars (9 page)

“Look,” he began. “I’m not trying to explain
to you why I can’t do this. I’m trying to explain to you why we
have to do it at my place.”

“Huh?” I said brilliantly.

“I just finished putting in the studio at my
new place, and it sounds like I did it just in time, too,” he
stated. “The truth is, I’m anxious for something to do, but there’s
no way Serena is going to want me gone all day for however long it
would take to get this record made, and I’d hate to miss out on
Joshua that entire time. The way I see it, we can make this work if
we can use my studio. Then you’ll have your producer, and I’ll be
near my family for the process. It’s a win-win.”

I shook my head in disbelief, smiling at him.
“You had me worried there for a bit.” I let out a sigh of relief.
“I thought I was going to have to get on my knees and beg.” He
waved a dismissive hand and took a drink while I leaned back in my
chair, reminding myself that I could relax. “Now we just have to
get the label on board.”

“Let the adults deal with the label,” he said
matter-of-factly. “I’ll give Wes a call later. We’ll figure that
out.”

“I can’t wait to see this new studio of
yours,” I added happily.

“I can’t think of a group of guys I’d rather
have break it in,” he said.

Mission accomplished.

Two days later I was so excited about getting
into the studio to do some more recording, that even getting lost
on the way to Karatz’s new place couldn’t put a damper on my mood.
(That’s saying something considering it was only eight in the
morning.) I called Karatz, pleaded guilty to being an idiot, and
got directions so I could find the place. He told me to pull around
to the side of the house since his studio was a separate structure
in the back. The last house Karatz owned had been a nice place, but
I could tell immediately that this one would put it to shame. I
also knew I was going to be jealous the minute I saw the building
that was supposed to be the studio. To start, there was enough room
for like eight cars to park around back. Chase’s car was parked
there, as was Jonas’s. The studio looked like a small house in
itself. I opened the door and walked inside the entryway. The
hardwood floors beneath my feet were immaculate and shining and the
ten foot ceilings made the space feel really open. I glimpsed a
door to the left that looked like it might be a bathroom, and then
continued on inside where I came upon the lounge area. Karatz and
O’Shea were sitting on a large sofa and Chase was texting on his
phone when I walked in.

“Hey, you made it,” Karatz teased.

“Barely,” I retorted. “A guy could get turned
around in your private parking lot back here.”

Karatz shrugged and said. “Don’t complain if
you don’t want to have to walk in from the street.”

I laughed and looked over at my best friend.
“Where’s your car?” I realized it hadn’t been in the parking
lot.

“I caught a ride with Chase,” O’Shea said.
“And even he managed to find the place okay.” I stuck out my tongue
childishly and glanced around, wondering if I had missed Jonas
somewhere along the way.

“He’s on his way,” O’Shea said, picking up on
my search.

I nodded and said, “Do we have to wait for
him to get the tour?”

“Do I look like a tour guide?” Karatz said,
“I’ll head into the kitchen and get everyone some water. You guys
can show yourselves around.”

“Works for me,” O’Shea said. I watched Kratz
exit the opposite side of the lounge where I glimpsed a
refrigerator and a bunch of cupboards. That was when I realized the
studio had its own kitchen. I was already jealous. I followed
O’Shea down a little hallway where we found a spacious control room
with a top of the line soundboard. Across from it were the main
recording room and a drum booth, separated from the control room
only by a large window. Further down was a live room. If the place
would have belonged to someone else I would have pulled out my
check book and made an offer. It was just that great.

“Can you believe this place?” O’Shea
mused.

“I’m trying to decide why I don’t have a
house like this,” I said.

“We’re not technically in the house. Besides,
your house is fine.”

“Okay then, at least a studio like this,” I
corrected.

“No idea. Maybe you should do some building
on.”

Chase bumped into me from behind and stared
ahead, his jaw dropping at the sight of the live room we were
gazing into.

“Hey dad, where’s my room?” O’Shea teased
when Karatz walked up from behind and found us standing around and
gawking.

“Don’t act like you’re not going to fall
asleep all over the place,” Karatz said with a chuckle. “It hasn’t
been that long since we recorded ‘Recycled Coma’ and this ain’t my
first rodeo.”

“Did someone say something about a rodeo?”
Jonas asked from behind.

“Good, you’re all here.” Karatz ushered us
into the control room. There were a few plush chairs on wheels in
front of the soundboard, and one long sofa against the back wall.
The monitors mounted at angles toward the front of the room were
modest in size but top of the line. Chase and Jonas plopped down
onto the couch and I walked up to the soundboard, coveting the
equipment as I scanned it with my eyes.

“So, what do you think?” Karatz handed me a
bottle of water.

I gave an impressed whistle and opened the
water, taking a sip. “We’re obviously paying you too much,” I
said.

“Probably true.” He laughed.

“Enough drooling all over the place,” O’Shea
called from the doorway. “Let’s see what kind of damage we can do
with all this equipment.”

“Well, what are you all waiting for?” Karatz
asked. “Get your stuff and let’s get to work.”

It took a while for all of us to get our gear
and haul it into the live room, especially since Chase had brought
his own drum kit. That was the only thing Karatz didn’t have, and I
was sure that wouldn’t be the case forever, but Chase has a thing
about recording on his own kit so it worked out fine.

Once our guitars were tuned and Karatz had
set up a few microphones on stands for O’Shea and I, he leaned
against the doorway and said, “Let’s hear it.”

I smiled, feeling like everything might just
be falling into place after all. I nodded to Chase who counted us
off. We played “Midnight Poison” all the way through, and managed
to have a pretty smooth take, despite the song being so fresh to
us.

Karatz, who is always hard to read, stood in
the doorway with his poker face on, listening intently to the song.
The last note rang out until Chase muted his cymbals, and I looked
up at Karatz, curious for his reaction.

He clapped his hands together a few times and
smiled at me. “Not bad, guys.”

I sighed, breathing easier now that Karatz
was on board with the song. He suggested a few changes in the
timing and we played it through again, finding that it the
transitions from verse to chorus went much smoother. We were just
getting started but already the song was starting to flesh out and
become what I had hoped it could be.

Karatz, who is a musical genius with perfect
pitch, is a perfectionist in every sense of the word when it comes
to producing music. For this reason, we played around with the song
for another hour, starting and stopping whenever he signaled us,
and making whatever changes he insisted were necessary. We’d
learned with ‘Recycled Coma’ not to question Karatz’s M.O. and the
fact that we already had a relationship with him made the work that
much easier. When Karatz had done all he could with us as a group,
and we were confident about the way the song sounded, he told us
all to take a fifteen minute break. I set Liza down on a stand and
made my way back to the lounge. I’d only been sitting there for a
minute or two when a beautiful woman with blonde hair came waltzing
in with a baby in one arm and a basket of fruit and pastries in her
free hand.

“Hey guys,” she said. “I thought you might
enjoy some breakfast.”

“Serena!” I grinned and jumped to my feet to
greet her.

“Trey, it’s great to see you.”

I took the basket from her and gave her a
quick hug before admiring the sleeping baby.

“Wow, he’s cute.”

“Did you just use the word cute?” O’Shea said
as he walked into the lounge just then. He looked up and saw Serena
standing there and grinned, walking over to peek at the baby
himself. “You’re right. He is cute.”

I laughed as Karatz approached and lifted the
sleeping baby out of his wife’s arms.

“Serena, you’re the best.” I began sifting
through the basket of food she’d brought.

“I’ve been around too many musicians to
believe that you guys all ate something substantial before you came
over this morning.” Serena grinned. “Joshua and I just had to bring
you something.”

“You mean Poptarts and Starbucks doesn’t
count?” Chase grabbed a clump of purple grapes and popped one into
his mouth.

Serena rolled her eyes but the smile never
left her face. “So, how’s it coming along? Do you have anything I
can listen to?”

“Not yet,” I admitted. “We were just getting
ready to lay down some drums after the break.”

“Click … click … click,” Chase said
hypnotically. I rolled my eyes at him. “What? I’m just preparing
myself for the hours of mind-numbing clicking I’m about to listen
to.” He forced a smile.

I shook my head and shoved him on the
shoulder, knocking him back onto the sofa where he stayed, happily
munching on grapes.

Karatz kissed his son on the forehead and
handed him back to Serena. “Thanks for breakfast, honey,” he
said.

“No problem. I’ll be back with lunch,” she
said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I said between bites of an apple
pastry of some kind I’d found in the basket of goodies. We spent a
few more minutes munching on stuff and drinking more water before
it was time to get back to work.

“Well Chase, you’re up.” Karatz gestured in
the direction of the drum booth and then turned to me and said,
“You know the drill.”

And I did. While Karatz was working with any
of the other guys, I was to be playing my guitar and working on new
material. It was a good set up, actually, since I would be sitting
around a lot and doing nothing otherwise. I followed Chase back
into the live room and helped him start to take his kit down so he
could carry it to the booth.

“So, who is she?” Chase asked as he pulled
the toms off of the bass drum one at a time and set them aside.

“Huh?” was my brilliant reply.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me.
“You’re on cloud nine or something today,” he continued. “I just
figured you finally took my advice and met someone.”

“Are you implying that I have to have a girl
to be happy?” I feigned insult.

He chuckled and said, “Uh … yeah. Pretty
much.”

I picked up one of his drumsticks that he’d
left dangerously close to me and tossed it at him. “Actually, I met
this amazing woman,” I admitted. “But I’m not sure if I’ll ever see
her again.”

“Are you kidding me?” Chase said. “You can
have any girl you want and you still manage to find one who’s
unavailable?”

“It’s not that.” I sighed. “I just couldn’t
tell if she was that into me. Plus, like an idiot I didn’t get her
number. I don’t want to pull a stalker move and just show up at her
place.”

“I would.”

“Exactly my point.” Chase smiled and shrugged
in defeat.

“And the crazy thing is, I think she’s the
girl I’ve been dreaming of.”

Chase narrowed his gaze at me. “Okay, that
does sound crazy.”

“No, I mean that literally. I told you I’ve
been having these dreams,”

“Wow, didn’t know I was missing out on a
therapy session,” O’Shea said as he walked in.

“Forget it,” I said.

“Don’t stop just because I’m here,” O’Shea
urged. “Do tell.”

“Trey met a girl,” Chase said.

I glared at him. “Thanks a lot.”

“Who is she?” O’Shea asked.

“Just a girl.” I didn’t want to go into too
much detail. Did I even have details about her to tell? Probably
not. “She’s an artist.” I hoped that would be enough to satiate
their curiosity.

“Ooh. Sounds hot.” O’Shea rubbed the day old
stubble on his chin.

“Well, I won’t say I told you so.” Chase
lifted up the bass drum and headed for the doorway.

I shook my head, grinning, but Chase was
right. It was no coincidence that I’d started writing music again
now that the faceless woman in my dreams had taken on Aurora’s
countenance.

I sat on a stool and started strumming chords
in succession, waiting for a rhythm I liked to develop.

“Where’s Jonas?” I asked, hoping to break the
silence.

“Bathroom, I think,” O’Shea replied as he
took the other stool. “So, what’s her name?”

I let out a breath and looked up at him,
unable to help the smile on my face. He was my best friend and
would definitely drag it out of me sooner or later. I might as well
get it over with.

“Her name is Aurora.”

“Also hot,” he mused.

“You’ve never even seen her and already she
has two hot points?” I grinned.

He stared at me dumbly. “Well, is she?”

“Definitely.”

“Case in point. Where’d you meet her?”

“Carlie’s.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I used her as an excuse to get out of
a party some girls were trying to drag me to, and we started
talking and I ended up walking her home.”

He began picking out the melody for “Midnight
Poison” on his guitar. “I’m happy for you, man. And honestly,
whatever inspires you to keep writing songs works for me.”

He elbowed me and I looked up and saw that he
was grinning. Just then Jonas walked into the room carrying a
little digital video camera with the red recording light flashing
on the front.