11. Ember #2
Rian played with the hole in the knee of his pants. “I don’t know.”
My playlist switched over to Evermore West, and Rian frowned. “You like Evermore West?”
“‘Like’ is the understatement of the year. Like. I like macadamia nuts, the month of May, and getting out of work early. Evermore West made a map to places in my soul I didn’t know existed.” I tried to keep my voice even, but it was hard when talking about music.
Rian blinked and I worried I’d said too much, shown too much of myself. But then he nodded. “Yeah, that’s about what it feels like.”
“The lyrics alone would send me. ‘The midnight road was calling, but I took the water’s way. Let the river pull me under, wash my sins away’?” I quoted one of my favorite songs. “But then his voice is haunting and husky, with the guitar and the eerie instruments.”
The voice reminded me of what Ben and Rian smelled like.
“’But the past runs deeper than the waters I wade, and the river don’t forget the choices I made,’” Rian said, almost whispering. “I heard that part of the song and it felt like I’d died a little.”
“I love that Evermore West does concept albums,” Ben said. “If you’re going to show me part of my soul, I want a map.”
“Right?” I almost squealed. “No one does a good concept album lately.”
“Thank you,” Rian, gesturing with his hands. “Force me to listen to the entire album in one sitting or don’t waste my time.”
“Except Bones,” Ben said. “Reason to Believe. Juliet Vale. They all do good concept albums.”
“Okay, true.” I pointed at Ben. “ Some artists are doing it. But back in the eighties it was almost mandatory.”
“And some of them sucked.” Ben wrinkled his nose. “My goodness, some of them were terrible,” he repeated like he was reliving bad memories. He gave a shudder for emphasis.
“Maybe it’s good we get variety,” I said. “Spice of life and all that. But indie artists wind up experimenting more, which means we get some good concept albums.”
“That’s because most big labels only care about making money,” Ben said vehemently. His blue eyes lit up and his voice got huskier with passion.
“Here we go.” Rian shook his head. “We’ve got him on his soapbox now.”
Ben shoved Rian’s arm. “You know it’s true.
They want to churn out the next sanitized pop hit.
Let’s just pretend the avant- garde music isn’t what sets the tone for the genre.
But no, we’ll only produce what we think is safe and will make us a ton of money, even though we don’t actually know what will make us money. ”
“Like Evermore West,” I said. “Started out indie, gets a song on a hit tv show, suddenly everyone needs haunting indie folk rock.”
“And since they want to copy the sound,” Rian added, “it sounds fake and doesn’t do well. So the studio decides not to finance haunting indie folk rock anymore.”
I bounced in my seat. “Thus the vicious corporate cycle is complete. Thank God for modern technology. There’s so many good things you can do with a basic laptop these days.”
“Exactly.” Ben sat up, his face animated. I had accidentally stumbled into a passion I shared with the alpha and omega, and I wasn’t sure I could contain myself. “It’s really opened the playing field for indies and corporate alike.”
“At the risk of a loaded question,” I said, looking between the two of them, “what sort of studio do you work for? Are you stuck as a corporate wage slave making illicit rave dubs at night?”
Rian laughed; his face lit up. His face was open, and the urge to crawl between them rose higher.
“No, oh, nope. I think Ben would hang himself if he was. Ben gave the middle finger to the corporate exes a long time ago and opened a studio with a business partner. They get to take who they want without worrying about a big label.”
“You’re safe, then.” I was relieved for some reason. At least they were free to make the music they loved. Their scents were everywhere in my office and I reminded myself I wasn’t supposed to be sexing up the clients.
Rian cocked his head, narrowing his eyes like he expected me to say something next, but I wasn’t sure what it was.
Evermore West switched over to the Neon Outlaws, and I jumped in my seat, clapping my hands together. “Please tell me you’ve heard the Neon Outlaws. Please please.”
“Only their cover of ‘I Drove in Twilight’.” Rian’s gaze roved over my body and I suddenly thought it would be easier to keep my distance when he was in a bad mood.
“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness. Okay, so the band gets together in music college, right?” I couldn’t stop myself from the info dump.
Ben nodded. “Right, checks out.”
“They think to themselves, ‘The world is missing a concept album from the Starfleet universe.’” I paused for dramatic effect.
“The video game?” Ben sounded confused. “It’s a platform jumper, right? Made in the 1980s?”
“Yes,” I jumped out of my chair and changed the songs on my computer. I also pulled some bottled water out of the mini fridge. “Okay, but look. They took the rivalry between Dr. Weitz and Dr. Light and made it this epic ballad. A war between man and machine.”
“That’s…” Rian rubbed his chin. “That’s brilliant.”
“Each album sounds different too. The first is really heavy and loud.” I clicked on “Echoes of the Void,” a song where Dr. Light talks to his son about Dr. Weitz’s corruptive influences.
” I let them hear the part of the song, and then paused it.
“But then the second album is, like, a prequel? And it sounds like eighties power ballads and progressive rock.”
Ben gestured. “I have to hear this now.”
I was super excited and probably way oversharing, but I couldn’t help it. I had to make them understand how amazing this group of albums was. I picked the song “Starfire’s Last Stand.”
Rian’s face flushed with understanding. “Oh, yes, this is amazing.”
I waited until the song was over, feeling almost high with joy. “It’s brilliant.”
Rian pulled his phone out. “We’ll listen to the entire album on the drive home.”
“Tell me what you think,” I said. “West likes the second album the best, but I can’t pick just one.”
“West?” Ben asked. “Is he the other scent on you?”
“Yes, he’s my omega partner,” I said.
Rian’s face fell, but I couldn’t figure out why. Some of the previous openness shuttered up, and it felt almost like a slap. “We’ll let you know which we prefer too. Can we get a tour of the grounds?”
“Sure.” The change in subject threw me off, but our scents were strong, and if I didn’t get some fresh air I would embarrass myself.
I led them outside, sure that something had shifted and not for the better.
But that was fine, right? I didn’t hump my clients. Maybe I really needed that pillow.
Trying not to feel rejected, I showed them down the hall and out onto the grounds.