*****061:

Work after hot sex is always constructive. I just feel more in tune to the universe. Having Aubrey in the tech room with her brother was even better. I always valued her opinions, always wanted her input, and would have compelled her to be the one singing with me if I could have. I couldn't get her off my mind. My two and a half months pregnant with quadruplets-- that nobody but us knew about—wife, had just given me this amazing ridiculous experience, and I was going to use it, dammit, use it to blow everybody's mind.

Victorine was ready--- she'd worked the song, over and over, she was hot to sing with me—and I was ready to sing with her.

Parker started the track and we zinged. Yeah--- zinged.

"Hey--- cut--- cut--- you guys---- knock it off!---- okay---- stop!" Parker's voice in our room finally blasted into my consciousness.

I took the earphones off and hung them around my neck. "What?"

Victorine took a step back--- I could tell by her expression she'd thought we were zinging as well.

The room was not the one we'd recorded Fall into the Ocean in, or even one Axis had been in either time we'd recorded here. This was a smaller room, not as lavishly decorated, more serviceable, with my guys and Justine, Chyma, and Victorine, we were at close quarters.

I glanced around. The guys looked bored.

"Can we do it again?" Victorine tilted her head kind of flirty cute and winked at me.

"Yeah." Parker said. "But not like that. Whatever you're doing, the two of you are not connected. I can't feel it. Victorine, you're overpowering the lyrics in the second measure." He started singing and showed us what he was looking for.

My hands found his rhythm, and did the natural drum set thing in front of me. Air drums. I think I've mentioned before I'm a secret drummer. My ambition is to start a band and be the drummer.

Chyma had been sitting on the floor with her violin, and now she glanced up. "It's not Vicki--- it's the lyrics are wrong." She stood up and went to Victorine's side where she'd been holding a piece of paper and showed her. They whispered together which made my brows rise in instant irritation. I didn't like being treated like me or my ability or my song was sub- standard or that I wouldn't understand a critique. I was the King of taking criticism, but openly.

My eyes met Parker's. "It's not the lyrics, thanks, Chyma, it's the notes right there. Rafe, can you sing harmony right there, switch over and let her take the melody line? I need another singer, Chyma, do you sing?"

She nodded, seriously, and Ben also shook out his pants. He sang back up quite a lot actually.

Parker came into the room and spoke to the four of us equally. I glanced at Aubrey who was watching the proceedings with intent focus. I knew she'd have the best suggestion there, but she wasn't ready to disclose yet. I turned back to Parker.

We tried it again his way, and it did wonders for that line, but left the rest of the song lacking. I felt my shoulders tensing. I hated it.

Usually when I hated it, Ben or Jeff told them all so. Now they said nothing. They were too busy not being dicks, trying to impress the gals. I was questioning Aubrey's brainchild bringing them here. We were fine without them.

An hour went by, experimenting with shit. I could tell by Parker's face he had a different vision and wasn't getting it across. He was careful not to put it on me, but I finally told him if it was me, to just spill it. He said it wasn't. And looked pointedly at Victorine.

I'd never seen Parker Mann be rude.

Aubrey got up and showed me her phone. The kids were up from naps and she wanted to head back up to the house. I started to get up and then Parker shoved me back to my stool.

"Let her go. You stay right here and finish this. We're close, okay?"

Totally affronted I said the first thing out of my mouth. "I'm not working with her." Meaning Victorine. "Let me and Ben do it ourselves."

Axis took places, better places than the floor, and Victorine Alissa (the band) got up and left the studio room.

We'd been together twenty years--- as a band. We wrote every song we'd ever sung together--- collaborating periodically and enjoying it, but we knew each other----

Axis started playing and Parker went back to his sound room, not looking at us, the girls swarmed around him in there.

And this huge all studio announcement came over the loudest speakers that drowned us out and caused us all to practically fall over. It was a male voice--- maybe the studio manager himself. "All rooms are open for the next half an hour. Mandatory signed agreement paparazzi inundation. Be polite."

All our faces registered our shock. "We agreed to this?" I yelled.

Parker blocked his eyes with his hands and fell back into his seat. "Stupid. Bad timing."

"Is there ever a good time?" Aubrey was on her way out. I intercepted her.

"They can't follow us to our house right? I'm going with you." I took her hand and Parker shook his head.

"You know the rules. If you're in you can't leave."

"Where's my publicist? Did I actually sign something that says---?"

Parker never uncovered his eyes. I knew he was frustrated, but that didn't help my mood. My suddenly annoyed mood. I knew studios habitually did stuff like this. It kept the paparazzi off the rest of the time.

"Maybe it won't be so bad in the middle of a snow----." Aubrey had dropped my hand intending to leave when the first reporter came through the door--- a young woman named Naira Winona who I'd interviewed with before--- stalked through the door, her ample Native American hips swinging, her long straight black hair slapping against her ski jacket.

Behind her, a very formidable blockbuster reporter was making his way down the hall. I suddenly needed to be with my fledgling band Draft Jam so they didn't get clobbered by this very seasoned veteran. Marc Shephard. Gees---- really? They let Marc Shepherd in here?

"How did Rosewood rate a guy like Shepherd in the dead of a blizzard?" I asked Parker, low.

Naira was smiling broadly, ready to get the scoop in our space. The guys had put down their instruments and were looking suitably media savvy--- well trained to act like idiots for these ventures. I wasn't in the mood. Not with my wife ready to leave me here.

"I'm not promoting anything." I started to pull Aubrey out, and she--- resisting, had her phone out. I saw Tracy McCaffrey herself in the hall, but then I realized Macy had been setting up food and drink and goodies like a press junket in the main lobby. The others were routinely filing in. Given free reign.

Parker stood up and shook down his pants too. His eyes changed from super annoyed and frustrated to very polite and open--- I was reminded that his father was the amazing Richard Mann. "You can handle a half an hour, Stryker." He told me. "And Shepherd--- this is Shep's group. These guys all work for him. He's like a fixture at the main house in January and February. Him and my folks are friends."

Aubrey's eyes snapped up. "I wouldn't call them close friends."

"He stays at the main house a good portion of January."

"He visits. He stays in a cottage. Just be polite." Aubrey tried on her cheeriest smile and squeezed my hand. "I told Abbie it'd be a few more minutes."

Naira started in.

*******