AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Asher
Rain pelted the windshield of the old Cadillac as it idled impatiently in traffic. The wipers squeaked rhythmically back and forth across Asher’s wide frame of vision, tracking dust that was swiftly washed away by rain. The wipers didn’t get a lot of use, so they had accumulated a little grime over the years. Luckily, he had done a thorough job of sealing the car, so the rain couldn’t drip through the cracks between doors and hinges. It was coming down hard now, enough to obscure Asher’s view and make him lean forward in his seat. He was a confident driver, sure of himself even in tense traffic or inclement weather. But that didn’t mean the dense lanes of other drivers knew how to handle themselves. In fact, as a lifelong Angeleno, Asher knew people had a tendency to panic a little bit when it did finally rain. Nobody knew to slow down, be cautious, do anything in their power to sharpen their reaction time. So Asher had to drive as though everyone around him was in full-blown panic mode.
At the same time, he had to quell the panic stirring up inside his own body. It had been frustrating enough trying to manage traffic with a time constraint and two people bickering viciously behind and beside him. But once they had hopped out of the car and taken off through traffic like dramatic fools, Asher’s heart had been pounding like mad. He was desperate to find them again, to make sure Giselle was okay. Even though it was her idea to jump out of the idling car, he still felt responsible for her safety. He was the one who had volunteered to get her to the recording session, after all. Now, not only was he sure they wouldn’t get there on time, he worried they might not make it there at all.
He needed to fix this fiasco before Bruce Jimenez inevitably showed up to put them to shame. Asher put on his blinker and began inching through the lanes toward the nearest parking garage. His eyes scanned the blurry wet world for signs of Blaze or Giselle. But the harder he looked for them, the more bizarre sights he saw instead.
First, there was a pair of tall, skinny young women in shimmery pink jumpsuits running through the rain under one woefully small umbrella. Then, he saw another few women dragging what looked like a dress or costume rack, draped haphazardly with a white tarp, along the crosswalk while the rain poured down. When he saw a guy leading two white horses adorned with glittery pink saddles and sashes through traffic, Asher started to really wonder if he was losing his mind. Was somebody holding a parade? Or filming some bizarre performance art? Or was he just hallucinating all these strange little sights?
Finally, Asher managed to weave the massive vintage car through traffic to the side road, where he pulled into the parking garage. He turned off the engine, took a deep breath, and jumped out to go find his missing passengers. The humidity in the air immediately fogged up his glasses as he stepped out into the muggy, wet morning. He ran half-blind for a few moments while he wiped them on his shirt, then put them back on just in time to see Giselle down at the corner of the street, at the meeting of two main roads. She was stamping her feet and had her little hands balled into fists. He could see her shouting, even hear a muffled echo of her words.
“Fine! You’re right! I don’t know what I want!”
Her voice sounded distant and tinny through the rain. Blaze’s deeper, rougher voice came after. “Well, you’d better figure it the hell out, because you’re driving us insane!”
“Shit,” Asher swore as he sprinted down to the corner.
The pair of them were bristled up like a pair of alley cats, but the tension between them crackled with more than just plain anger. Asher knew. He felt the same thing, even though he did everything to push it down.
“I never asked for any of this to happen in the first place,” Giselle said. “I never needed anyone before, so why now? Why should I give you a chance?”
“With all due respect,” Asher boomed as he approached the scene, “You don’t have the leverage you think you do, Giselle.”
Her eyes widened and her retort died on her tongue. Even Blaze looked stunned to hear Asher raise his voice. He rarely tapped into this dominant, commanding part of himself, but clearly these two needed an adult to step up to the plate. The rain continued to fall, slowly drenching the three of them as they had it out on the sidewalk outside the studio.
“The truth is that you need us, whether you like it or not. Bruce knows it, your bandmates know it, we know it. There’s no shame in accepting help,” Asher asserted.
She pouted at him. “I don’t need help.”
“Bruce thinks otherwise,” he rumbled. “And if we don’t get our asses in the building right now, we’re all going to be out of a job.”
“Right. Let’s go,” Blaze said, and strode up to the door.
Asher stared intently at Giselle until she heaved a dramatic sigh and marched through the doorway, too. Only then did he follow after her and close the door. It was cool inside the building, and he noticed Giselle shivering, even in her oversized hoodie. He wordlessly draped his jacket over her shoulders. She peered up at him with newfound admiration. He wasn’t sure if she was more impressed by his bossy side or his gentle gesture, but at least she wasn’t causing a scene anymore.
Plus, he couldn’t pretend like Giselle didn’t look absolutely adorable with his big jacket tented over her delicate frame. It was more than worth the goosebumps on his skin. He led them through the building to the elevator, up to the third floor, and into the recording studio.
“Hey! There’s the A-team,” greeted Matt, who was tuning his guitar in the corner.
“Thank god. I thought the traffic might’ve gotten you,” Jimmy remarked.
“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it,” Giselle groaned, plopping down on the bean bag chair. “Let’s just jam. I need to, like, process my emotions and stuff.”
She and Matt started harmonizing, her voice with his guitar, while Jimmy slinked over to chat with Asher and Blaze.
“Thanks for getting her here, man,” Jimmy murmured. “Full disclosure: Bruce has been checking in by text every hour, on the hour. I didn’t tell him you guys were late, though.”
“Much appreciated,” Asher said.
To his relief, the rest of the morning and afternoon rolled by without issue. Giselle was on fire. She was singing, humming, writing, musing aloud, and experimenting with new melodies. She even occasionally let Blaze or Asher give feedback. After a full day of working in the studio, Matt and Jimmy headed home to let the songwriters have some time to themselves.
“Don’t burn the place down while we’re away,” Matt teased as he slipped out.
Jimmy followed up, “Some of this equipment is extremely expensive, so—”
“We got this, Jimmy. We’ll leave the studio just as we found it,” Giselle told him.
With a reassuring nod and glance at the guys, Jimmy went home for the night, too. The door clicked shut behind him, and Asher swallowed hard. All day long, Asher had been subconsciously counting down to this moment.
