Chapter 24 Present
Chill ocean air whipped against Ry's skin as he cruised down Pacific Coast Highway. Music pulsed from the speakers. The sunset painted the horizon behind him in hues of orange and purple.
He was eager to reunite with everyone, marking the first time since Ghostfire's official breakup nearly a year ago.
A mix of excitement and nervousness made him want to rush.
So, he took a deep breath and enjoyed the coastal cruise, his mind buzzing with creative energy.
Tonight was going to be fantastic. As he approached the city, the traffic thickened.
Buoyed by his good mood and the music playing through the speakers, he remained unfazed. There was a certain magic in the air.
Ry turned down the street to the house he now shared with Alex and pulled his vehicle into the driveway.
Over the last year, the familiar sight of Alex's car had become a comfort.
Their relationship, once fractured, had mended through their individual and couples therapy sessions, building their renewed connection.
Ry was incredibly grateful for the second chance.
Warm night air greeted him as he stepped out and grabbed his notepad before heading inside. The three additional cars told him that the entire crew had already arrived. As he pushed open the door, muffled voices drifted from the kitchen, an inviting murmur.
Brand, in slacks and a vest, leaned against the counter, sipping from a can of Obsidian and gesturing to Lon. His other friend wore a tee a size too small, his pants slim against his hips.
“Ry!” Lon scooped him up in a hug. “How’d it go?”
“Good,” he replied, hugging him back. He’d returned to Rosewood to tell his story about addiction, counting it as part of his treatment. The place always gave him peace.
“How was the drive?” Brand asked.
“Not bad,” he said. “Saw a gorgeous sunset. So, are we ready, or are they still tinkering?”
Over the past few months, Alex and Ry had transformed the basement, the thick, grey soundproofing panels lining the walls, a testament to their efforts to contain any errant notes. They were determined not to be that kind of neighbor.
Brand rolled his eyes. “You would think that after all this time, it would be perfect. Alex asked for fifteen more minutes, but it’s probably for Ella’s sake.”
“She’s a much worse perfectionist.” Ry grabbed a glass from a nearby cabinet and poured himself some water.
Lon nodded. “So, how’s that song coming along?”
Ry smiled. “Got the lyrics and melody written. Alex didn’t give the notes to you?”
“Nope,” Brand chuckled.
He rolled his eyes. “Lemme go check on them and see if I can get you the music before we start.”
“Good thing we’re professionals,” Lon called after him.
He descended into the basement, the air growing cooler and carrying a faint, dusty scent. No sound came from the studio; no hum of equipment or murmur of voices broke the quiet. He tapped on the door to announce himself before pushing it open.
In the control room, Alex, headset on, glared at the computers and read-outs, barely glancing at him. He stood in front of the mixer, a blur of wires covering the back half to the window looking into the studio itself, with the soft lighting reflecting off the wood-paneled floors.
“Still not perfect,” he said, his voice quiet. “Got some bleed-through in the vocal booth. Ry’s here.”
His boyfriend lifted one side off to better hear him.
“Almost there?” Ry asked.
Alex shrugged. “Yeah, she’s been trying to find this stupid leak for the last twenty minutes, and it’s not even that bad.”
Ella, in the main studio, looked at the booth door, hands on her hips. She opened it and ran her fingers along the frame, but couldn’t quite reach the top, not having her brother’s height. She stormed into the control room.
“Hi, Ry,” she said, giving him a quick hug. “I swear it’s got all the right soundproofing, so no idea where the bleed is coming from. I don’t want muddy vocals cuz Lon likes to bang the drums louder than he should.”
Ry chuckled at that. “Maybe the vents? I asked the contractors to put some acoustic padding in there.”
Ella stared at him. “C’mon bro, let’s check that. Just in case they forgot something important. Again.”
“Sure, grab a flashlight and a screwdriver. Should be in the third drawer.”
She smacked him on the shoulder. “Fine, make your little sister do all the work.”
“I won’t fit!” Alex protested.
She stuck her tongue out, leaving the two of them alone for a moment. Ry closed the distance between him and his boyfriend, leaning up to kiss him hello.
“Lon and Brand are itching for the score,” Ry said.
“Ah, shit. I thought I’d give it to them earlier.” He searched the table, shuffling some papers around, and found the sheets they’d been working on for the last few weeks. “Must have gotten distracted.”
“I’ll take them up and entertain the boys, then.”
Passing Ella, Ry shut the door behind him and headed back to the kitchen. Lon and Brand laughed about something, but perked up when they saw what he was holding. He handed them each their own paper.
“Hell yeah,” Lon said, drumming the beat on the table.
Brand’s fingers playing an imaginary keyboard. He looked over at Ry, grinning and whipped out a pencil to note a few things, possibly making adjustments. Good thing Alex still had the originals, but Ry trusted Brand to know the music well enough to sense something off, even if just on paper.
After a few minutes of testing out their respective parts, and Ry humming his, Alex appeared in the doorway and beckoned them to follow. Brand and Lon exchanged a look, but they all headed down to the basement. Ella ushered them inside.
“Well, are we all ready?” Ry said as they filed into the studio space.
Ella double-checked everything. “Okay, looks like it’s all set up properly. We’ll do an old classic for the sound check. How about Bring Me to the Edge?”
Brand grinned. “I’m game.”
They all headed to their spaces, put on their headphones and tuned up.
Ella gave them the signal, and they performed the song.
Afterward, she played back the recordings, and they talked about changing a few things.
As this was the first time they’d all recorded in here, they needed to assess the sound quality.
Alex and Ella, along with Ry for the guinea pig, had done most of the initial testing.
“What do you think? That sounds pretty clear to me.” Alex smiled at his sister.
“Yes!” Lon said.
“I’ll be doing backup vocals.” She blushed. Though it might take a while for her to be prepared for the stage, they had the time.
“Come on, join us too. At least for the first recording, so we can all hear how it’s supposed to be.”
Resigned, she agreed.
Ry looked at Alex. “This one is called Wanderer. Ready?”
Everyone nodded.
“Let me get it started,” Ella said, pressing some buttons and hurrying back to her mic.
With a deep breath, Ry pulled up the lyrics that he’d been working on. Brand led them in. The pulsing bass vibrated through the floorboards. Brand’s fingers danced along the keyboard.
Shadows dance, echoing in the dark
and here I am, lost among the neon lights
I wander the boulevard, heavy heart
the siren song of empty nights
I’ve locked away my edges
in the city of broken dreams.
Lon built the beat, the snare drum sharp and insistent, pushing the tempo to a breathless peak. It was a raw, driving energy, almost too much to bear, but with his skill he only pushed the edge. Then, Ella's voice, clear and soaring, joined Ry's for the swell of the chorus.
Desire jagged and jaded, never satisfied
Wanderer, give up your blackened heart
start something new, reclaim your soul
I need your hand to pull me up
instead of these pills and tears
offer no solace in these dark days
nights bleak without your arms
to lift me up from this hellish ground
Her voice, clear and bright, effortlessly wove with his, smooth as velvet, as if they'd harmonized for lifetimes, though they had only sung together a handful of times. Music ran in the veins of the Garvins. A wide smile spread on Ry's face, mirroring the joy in the air.
Walk down the boulevard,
past boarded-up shops
a reflection of what was mine, now lost
what we gave up for our dreams,
your touch tracing my limbs gone forever
He sang the chorus again, belting out higher notes on the fly, and Ella matched him in harmony.
Predawn light a fragment of me
still a shadow, I haunt these streets, searching
only minutes left until our ending.
The last of the chords dissipated in the sound-dampened studio. Ella rushed to the control room. After what seemed forever, the song played back through their headphones so they could listen again.
“Well?” Alex asked, adjusting his guitar out of nerves. They’d written the lyrics together, each about their own pain from the old days.
Lon smiled, though it was a little sad. “It fits with our style for sure, but it has something different. I’ve got some ideas, but’ll wait for others to talk.”
“I’ll need to work on some melodies and adjust a few chords, but overall, I think this could be the heart of our new album. So, who shall we be?”
“Astro Calamitas,” Ella said. “That’s who you were in high school, you know, returning to your roots.”
“And we’ll be better,” Ry said, motioning for Ella to be part of the group.
“Fuck yes,” Lon said. “It’s a cooler name, anyway.”
“Indeed,” Brand said. “Now, what were you going to say?”
“I’d love to do something fresh. We’ve been playing similar music for almost ten years. Why don’t we do more upbeat songs? A sort of darkness to light motif?”
He bit his lip as if he expected a no.
Alex grinned. “Couldn’t agree more. Our fans will still adore us. But we are moving on as a different band, and we need a distinct sound. With Ella’s vocals and instincts, I’m confident we’ll do just that. Might even have her featured on a few tracks to showcase that powerhouse.”
Ella blushed again. “Maybe?”
“Good idea,” Ry said. “Well, what do you say? Mess around and see if anything comes of it? Each of us will have the recordings to listen to. There’s no rush now. After the shit we’ve been through, we deserve fun.”
“Just one thing,” Alex said, pulling out his phone. “Time to post a group selfie in the recording booth.”
That image traveled fast on the internet. Their followers went wild with theories, freaking out about new music. Of course, the #staytuned didn’t help the poor fans much. But Ry remained pleased. This was the beginning of something great.