AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I put my headphones on so I can listen to what I’ve recorded so far. I have a good rhythm going, and I think Bret will be happy with the collection I have. I’m hoping to finalize what I have so far so Bret can send out the demos.
I need to work out a few problem areas, so I pull the headphones off and make my way to the piano.
I mark a couple things in my notebook so I know what to go back to, and I start the song from the beginning, using only the piano as backup. The song sounds really good acoustic, and I wonder sometimes if I’m able to give up control and let whoever buys this song make it their own. That may very well be the hardest part of all of this. I know I’ve expressed my concerns to Bret and made some enemies with a few artists that he’s brought in, but I can’t help that I’m protective of the songs I write.
I hear someone call my name but I finish the song before I turn around, annoyed at being interrupted.
“Mia,” Bret tries to get my attention again as the last key dies away. Next to him is the asshole that burst into my studio session the other day.
I rise from the piano bench. “You have got to be kidding.” I shake my head hoping this isn’t the artist Bret said he was bringing in to work with me today.
“Good seeing you again,” the asshole smirks.
“You two know each other?” Bret looks between us.
“You could say that,” I grimace.
“Mia,” Bret says my name like a warning. “This is Peter Hayes.”
I lean against the piano keys, crossing my ankles at the same time as I cross my arms in front of me.
“Peter is the front man and main songwriter for the band Heaven’s A Lie.” Bret introduces us, but I am reluctant to get to know this punk. I’ve seen guys like him before and they don’t want help to write songs. I can see it written all over his face. He’s here because he has to be, not because he wants to be.
“They are looking for a new sound and need some fresh perspective,” which is code for their last album tanked and they need to revive their sound.
I glare at Bret and he gives me a stern look as if to say, this is my last chance and I owe him. I roll my eyes and push off from the piano.
“So, Peter, do you cry easily?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sorry For What?
“THIS IS THE last of it.” Wade looks down at the remaining boxes near the door of the condo. The space is devoid of anything that resembles the cozy sanctuary I called home for a few months.
“When do you leave?” I ask again, looking from Adam to Wade.
“Early in the morning,” Wade closes up a box and smooths tape over the top. “Adam’s driving with me and then taking a plane back home after I get settled into the dorm.”
I stifle a laugh.
“What is so funny?” Wade straightens up, placing a hand on his hip.
“Your roommates gonna love you,” I chuckle.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He looks at me incredulously.
“Imagine you’re a freshman meeting your roommate for the first time, and this guy shows up looking like someone’s Dad.” I lean towards Adam, slapping him on the arm.
“I’m not that old. Fuck!” He glares at me and frowns.
“You look younger, so you’ve got that going for you,” Adam smiles while he pinches Wade’s cheek. “Especially when you shave.” He rubs his chin.
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.” Wade gives a sarcastic smile and grabs one of the boxes.
“Here, let me do that,” I take the box from him, “So you can finish cleaning up.” I heft the box up higher against my chest to get better leverage. I’m not sure what’s in here, but it looked lighter than it feels.
I take the elevator downstairs to where the U-Haul is parked at the curb. I pull on the handle to open the back of the truck, and when I turn around to grab the box, Cash is standing there. Our eyes lock and for a moment we are trapped in the spider web of our history. Just as quickly the spell is broken, and he hurries away from me down the sidewalk.
