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Today in the studio, Ragnar and I served our purpose, keeping thing chugging along, as Varg did his best to fight through his own funky end of things. The end result was that it turned out pretty decently and would be able to be used on the album, although Sven had him go through a couple of his parts again just to be sure.
“Okay, take five,” Sven declared, after we’d gotten three songs tracked.
This meant that finally Varg could call his girlfriend back.
“Hey, baby,” he said, once she’d picked up the phone.
It was amazing how much his mood could shift when talking to Ashe. She really was good for him— she literally lit up his life. It was beautiful, in a way.
Ragnar hadn’t changed as much after pairing up with Stephanie. He was still himself, only more so, if that was even possible. Especially after their baby Karin was born.
The backbone of our band and our friendship strengthened with Ragner turning into someone even more considered and calm after becoming a father than he had been before. He wasn’t even thirty yet, but he was already acting in a way we’d long associated with middle age.
Not that that was a bad thing. We were used to it, anyway. He was always the most adult-like of the three of us, even when we were kids. Before we were bandmates, we were best friends growing up.
Whenever we would get in trouble, deserved or not— and it usually wasn’t— he would always be the one to do the talking. He became so good at the sweet-talking that eventually he was often able to get us off with just a warning, a talent that came in handy later as we wrecked hotels or canceled gigs due to too much partying.
The call from Stephanie came close behind Varg’s call to Ashe. Sweetness and light filled the studio.
I was happy for my friends and the contentedness they’d found. The green-eyed monster was barely stirring inside me, though. There was a distant longing, to be sure. But it was one that was for something I’d long given up on ever finding.
It wasn’t from any particularly traumatic effect sending me into a nihilistic spiral. I’d seen love happen, but I’d remained mostly untouched, because it had just never really happened for me.
There were glimmers of hope here and there with a few women I’d allowed myself to grow close to or had even started to love, but fate eventually stepped in and showed me one way or another that we weren’t right together.
I got over it eventually, at least— the idea that I was somehow cursed in the love department. I had even started to think there wasn’t anyone out there for me and that I was supposed to be single.
I decided to turn inward, focusing on being the best me I could be, before I even considered joining my existence with anyone else’s. Varg and Ragnar were the key exceptions, the three of us already seeing each other at our best and worst a hundred times over.
But I didn’t need romantic love.
I was fine on my own.
Or at least that was what I liked to tell myself.
Chapter Three – Holly
I couldn’t believe I was actually allowed admittance into The Sanctuary, thanks to my new job position as Seth’s assistant.
It was legend— a place I’d only heard about, despite working for the Suspicious Activity label. It was also a utopia spoken of only in hushed tones, and in a code all its own. It had an unlisted number to go with an address that, while not a secret, was also far from common knowledge.
The legend had outpaced itself, though, growing to an extent where rumors made it larger than life. A recording studio like any other, at least in function, The Sanctuary was home to a lot of stories, many of which were attached to some of the most influential albums of the past few decades.
Mythmaking was a natural human impulse. Suspicious Activity Records and its attendant recording facility, The Sanctuary, formed a new Olympus of west coast alternative, taking risks and going places few others dared.
I was hard pressed to think of a single label that would have the guts, balls or swagger to release the band All Hallows’ Evelyn into the wider world. Maybe Quick Trip Records, back in their infamous days, but the list began and ended there. And the fact was that Suspicious Activity was the only label that had actually done it.
I felt confidently in my ability to find the place despite it being so well hidden. Seth, for his few drawbacks, could also be a real sweetheart. He hadn’t only written out the address for me, but he had also drawn a map of how to get there on the back of the order sheet.
