Chapter 25 Alexander #2
“Hey Kelly, it’s Alex. Let me message my stylist and makeup artist, and get them to come help you out, okay?” I’m already tapping away at my screen.
“Oh my God, are you sure?” Hope rises in her voice.
“Of course. They don’t have to start work until seven tonight, when I get to the venue, so I’m sure they’ll be free to help out.”
I quickly fire off a message to Erica and Laurie, noting that I’ll double their pay for the day and any extras they’ll need covering.
“You’re my hero.” Kelly’s voice is at a fever pitch.
“What room are you in?” I ask.
“They’ve put us in the Tower Suite for the day.”
I raise my eyebrows at their proximity.
How many is us? How long will they be in there? Christopher will need to be extra careful leaving the room. I glance back down at my phone, waiting for the bubbles to turn into a message.
Erica
We’re just finishing breakfast; we could be there in twenty. Where shall we go?
“Great, Erica and Laurie will be with you in twenty.” I say to Kelly, while giving Erica and Laurie the details.
“You really are my hero,” Kelly says, as I throw my phone down and adopt a Superman pose. Christopher laughs at me and pushes me away. “Christopher, can you come get mum and take her somewhere.”
“Okay,” he says, heading to the armchair to retrieve his clothes. “Give me five.” He hangs up and turns to me.
“Thank you for that. This day is already going to be hell having to deal with all my family.” He returns to the bed, clothes in hand, and kisses me.
Is it bad that I want to cancel everything and just join him at his sister’s wedding?
I’ve always wondered what an actual wedding is like.
The only weddings I’ve been part of are the lavish ones I’m wheeled in and out of to perform at.
In fact, there’s a whole lot of things I’ve missed out on in life.
I’ve missed most of the milestones and celebrations that normal people get to be a part of, either because of work, or because I’ll take too much attention away from whoever or whatever is being celebrated.
“What is your schedule like today?” I ask.
“Well, I’m taking care of mum first and foremost. Then I’ve still got to finish the speech before the wedding starts at three thirty. You?” Christopher hops up and down on one leg, struggling to get back into his jeans.
“I’m heading down to record Stolen Moments. Then we’ll leave the hotel around six for the show. Maybe you could swing by the room to hear the track before you head down to the wedding?” I pull at the belt loop on his jeans with my finger.
He pauses for a beat, a slight hesitation lining his mouth, and I remove my finger.
“I’m not sure. Between my mum, sister, and this speech, I don’t think I’ll have the time.” His mouth drops into the shape of a rainbow.
“Maybe my parents can take care of your mum for you? It would keep them off my back too,” I say. I’m desperate to turn his frown upside down, to get more time with him.
“I’d love to, but I don’t need to be footing their therapy bills too.” Christopher’s face is deadpan as he buttons up his shirt.
“Come on, she can’t be that bad.”
“Ever seen a tornado, wrapped in emotional guilt? Well, that’s my mum.”
“Well, they’re gonna have to meet at some point if we’re to get married one day.”
“Married?” Christopher stops midway through sliding a sock on his foot.
“Well, you know. Maybe one day,” I say, instantly regretting ever using the word.
It’s been four hours since I left the suite to come here and record Stolen Moments, and I still can’t shake the look on Christopher’s face from my mind.
The stupid duvet over my head doesn’t help.
The heavy fabric makes me feel like I’m suffocating, but Freddy convinced me to use it as a makeshift sound barrier to block out any background noise from the rest of the room.
“Once again, from the top of the second verse.” Freddy says through the headphones.
The metronome clicks over the production to keep me in time as the last of the chorus from an earlier take plays out, leading into the instrumental for the second verse.
Freddy has done an excellent job with the production. He considered all the notes I gave him last night for what I envisioned the track to sound like and worked through the night to bring it to life.
“Nailed it!” Freddy says, when I finish the second verse.
I fight my way out from under the duvet, flinging it off me and onto the floor by the window overlooking the atrium below. There seems to be a large collection of people by the champagne bar, all in suits and dresses, who I assume must be here for Kelly and Daniel’s wedding.
The hotel room door opens, and Rob appears with three Brewed cups as I head over to sit next to Freddy at the desk.
His laptop is open, with a mini-electric keyboard in front and Logic files stacked on screen from the recording.
A scattering of empty Brewed cups, large San Pellegrino water bottles, and an empty bowl of Chipotle cover the rest of the table.
“Here you go.” Rob passes the coffees to Freddy and me.
“Thanks, big guy,” Freddy says, nodding, as Rob reaches for his back pocket.
“I saw this in the shop just down from Brewed and had to get it for you,” he says. “That way I’ll know when not to disturb you.” He lets out a chuckle as he swings a door hanger on his index finger.
I grab it from him, reading the sign, and burst out laughing as I turn it over.
Do Not Disturb is written in small letters across the top. Then in the middle, BUSY FUCKING is painted in bold white letters. There’s a silhouette of two people going at it underneath.
“This is genius!” I pat Rob on the back and pass it to Freddy for him to see. “You think you could get me a couple more?”
“Sure.” Rob smiles at me.
This would be the perfect wedding gift for Kelly and Daniel. And for Christopher to have at his place, too.
Shit, Christopher. What time is it?
I look at my watch: 6:30 a.m. Right! I smack my forehead. LA time.
I grab my phone to see the real time, 2:30 p.m., and call him.
“Have you got a spare five minutes?” I ask as he answers on the third ring.
“We’re almost ready to head down.” Christopher’s response is short.
“I promise it won’t take long. I just want you to hear the track and give you something. It’ll be five minutes, tops.”
The silence lasts for three beats before he answers.
“Okay, where you at?”
“Room 315,” I say, hanging up and throwing my phone on the bed before he has a chance to change his mind.
Less than three minutes later, there’s a knock on the door and I rush over to answer. Christopher is standing on the other side in a black three-piece suit and a bow tie. His hair is perfectly parted on the right side. His hazel eyes sparkle like the stars in the midnight sky.
“You look so handsome,” I whisper, before raising my voice. “Come in.”
He walks through, past the queen-sized bed on the right, and acknowledges Rob with a handshake before turning his attention to Freddy.
“Freddy, this is Christopher, my dialect coach. Christopher, this is Freddy my musical director and producer, who you briefly met at Abbey Road the other day.”
“Nice to meet you again,” Christopher says, extending his hand.
Freddy spins around on his chair, shaking Christopher’s hand with a firm grip.
“Can you play him what we’ve got so far?” I ask, twiddling my thumbs.
Freddy lines up the track, then hits the space bar and turns up the volume on the speakers.
“Take a seat,” I say to Christopher, removing an acoustic guitar from an armchair so he can sit. I take the other chair beside him.
My leg bops up and down, not from the beat, but nerves. I’m eager to hear Christopher’s response. His head nods up and down, like the label executives do, whenever I head into their offices to play new music.
The track finishes and I turn to him.
“What do you think?” I ask, but before he can answer, I jump in. “It’s still got a lot of work to do. We need to add more harmonies, a bass, beef up the production. But the core of it is there.”
“It’s great,” he says, a wide smile across his face.
“Really?” I feel like I still need reassurance.
That’s he’s not just saying that to appease me.
“Yes, it’s really great. You’ve got something really special here.”
I don’t know if he means the song or our relationship, but it doesn’t matter.
My heart jumps for joy inside.
“Look,” I say, grabbing my phone from the bed and opening up Spotify. “The song is at number two globally on Spotify. Nine point two million streams. Crazy right?” I hand him my phone so he can see.
“Watch out, Sabrina!” He laughs as he hands the phone back to me.
Sabrina Carpenter’s latest track has me beat by three hundred thousand streams.
“You’re a dialect coach, you could help Alex out with his diction, couldn’t you?” Freddy breaks into the conversation, as he plays back the second verse.
He’s been getting onto me all afternoon about the way I pronounce the word reunite. He’s made me repeat it so many times to get it right that I never want to hear the word again.
Christopher’s body stiffens at the request.
“I’d love to help, but I’ve got somewhere else I really need to be.”
“Do you mind if I just head out for ten?” I say to Freddy.
“Go for it,” he says, waving me away.
I grab the door hanger off the desk where Freddy left it and pass it to Christopher.
“Do you think your sister and Daniel will like it?” I ask.
“Like it? They’ll love it,” he says, laughing as he takes it in. We head to the door, Rob following behind us.
As we make our way down the hallway and to the elevator, I remember that I’ve not asked how he’s doing.
“How’s the speech? Did you manage to get it down?” I ask.
“Just barely. I’ve been fighting fires with my mum all day.” He rolls his eyes as the elevator doors open and we step inside.
“Why? What happened?” I reach for the button.
“You don’t want to know.”