Little Bit o Writing

I've finally written something! This is part of a short story I'm working on for class, here's what I have done so far.

“Hey Julie. Could I go with you to the studio today, learn some tips?” the new guy Lance asked. I about told him that he'd be better off observing someone else, I'd only been here two years after all, but then that rather large place in the back of my head that loved to over think things started screaming, “Flirting! Flirting!” I made a mental note to relay this situation to Lorraine when I got home tonight to see if she thought so. Ever since she'd gotten engaged, she lived vicariously through my pitiful love life for what she called excitement. I called it shameful.

“Yeah, sure. No problem. I was heading there now actually.”

“Cool cool,” Lance said. He followed two steps behind me down the stairs to the basement where my studio was located. He probably thought I was going to trip in my heels or something. I wasn't.

I keep it simple in recording sessions. Most of the bands I work with are metronome virgins, so it's best this way. I have all my own speakers, amps, mics, and drum kit already set up. Spaced out just right so no one's sound bleeds into another's mics. Cables are wound up neat and tight, laying on top of their amps. Power cords taped to the floor leading right up to the correct power strips. The drum kit was secured into the carpet so even big foot couldn't move the bass drum even if he used the double bass pedal I had ready to attach nearby. Dealing with musicians, especially the ones just starting out, was a crazy enough life. There didn't need to be chaos in my studio as well.

Lance followed one step behind as I flipped the switches to standby and half a step as I checked the grounding so no one would get shocked. His Wintergreen breath was making me anxious.

“The band is probably here now. How bout you go greet them and bring them in?”

“You sure?”

“Definitely.” Moments later, the Wintergreen was replaced with Juicy Fruit. Confused as to why Lance had come back already and felt the need to change ridiculously strong gum flavors, I turned around. Then took one step back in surprise, hooking my heel around a cable and crashing to the floor. Various cymbals felt the need to join me.

“ Are you alright?” Multiple hands reached for me. I didn't grab for any of them though. I was too busy taking him in.

The skater hair had been shorn, the beginnings of a beard in it's place, long enough to burn after kisses. The holey t-shirt had been covered with a crisp button up, the top button left undone. Couldn't be too dressy. Vans were still his shoe of choice, only this pair lacked the constellations of brown, orange, and green from the rainfall of vodka and Chipotle. I still couldn't drive by that place without wanting to gag.

I took him in, so familiar yet foreign. My lungs filled, ready to form the words that'd been rehearsed too many times in bathroom mirrors. He extended his hand past all the others. I grabbed it and let him pull me to my feet. It'd only make it better when I knocked him off his. A foot away, he looked into my eyes. I stole another breath, bracing myself.

“Hey, I'm Alex. It's nice to meet you.” Not what I'd been expecting. He'd looked me right in the eyes, those eyes he'd said he could write an endless amount of songs about. He'd looked right at them, and hadn't recognized me. Yeah, I'd changed a bit too. Given in my too small converse for heels. Let my razor cut hair reach past my shoulders, and someone with experience use scissors. But it wasn't like I'd gotten plastic surgery or something.

Alex was looking at me with expectation.

“Julie.”

“Nice name. Is it alright if we warm up?”