𝐉𝐚𝐱 𝐏𝐎𝐕

How many men does it take to unload a van? Apparently fucking ten.

We arrived at the studio around eleven this morning, shortly after Nora had departed to pick up Allie for their brunch date. It's just past twelve-thirty, and the studio is finally organized after unloading all the equipment. I can't help but steal a moment to check my phone, which I've been unable to do since this morning. There, I notice a missed text from Allie, and instantly, a wave of relief washes over me as her name appears on my screen.

Allison: Nora just picked me up. Already can't wait to see you later.

Me: Enjoy your time sweetheart, I can't wait either.

As I  confidently step into the studio, I slip my phone into my back pocket, feeling ready to take on the day after seeing that message. The interior of the studio welcomes me with an open sitting area to the right, featuring a luxurious black suede sectional and circular, light oak coffee tables adorned with a carefully arranged snack tray, complemented by a convenient drink station nearby. Meanwhile, on the left side, the recording booths stand tall, each encapsulated within soundproof glass, creating distinct areas for recording instrumentals and vocals.

Ambling over to the sectional, I plop down next to Gareth while the rest of the members of Bottom Line are spread out throughout the room. Casey is seated on the opposite side, tapping drumsticks against his leg, while James is engrossed in his cell phone. Meanwhile, Gareth is also absorbed in his own device, and someone from the label's legal department, Jonathan Crawford, is carefully examining our signatures.

Jonathan carefully places the signed papers inside a manila envelope and looks up at the group. "Alright, we have all the necessary signatures in place," he says, raising his head from the envelope. "According to the terms of the contract, we will collaborate on producing one album with you and embark on a three-month tour, comprising fifty events following the album's release. You guys have creative freedom in recording the album, but we retain the final decision-making authority. The details of the payment are highlighted for your review, although the contract has already been signed. I'll let you guys get to it with Gerald, he'll be your producer. It was nice to meet you guys and I look forward to working with you," Jonathan says as he stands and shakes our hands.

A tall man with a full, well-kempt beard, stretched ears, and an array of striking tattoos covering his arms and neck casually strolls over from the recording table, extending his hand in a warm greeting. "Hey there, great to meet you. I've been listening to your music, and I'm really looking forward to working together. How do you think we should kick things off? Are we starting with recording vocals or instrumentals?" he asks with a smile.

"Hey man, good to meet you. I think we start with the vocals and get them squared away first," Gareth recommends with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Once we've laid down the vocals, we'll shift our attention to Casey's drumming and James's bass tracks, and then we can take it from there," I propose.

Everyone in the room looks around to each other, nodding in agreement as I stand from the couch.

"Oh, Jax you'll want to leave your cell out here to limit noise inside the booth," Gerald informs, pointing to the coffee table.

Discarding my phone from my back pocket, I toss it onto the coffee table and walk over to the vocal booth and slip into the small soundproof room and place the headphones on.

"Hey, Jax, are you receiving me clearly?" Gerald's voice resonates through the headphones with crisp clarity.

"Yes, I can hear you loud and clear," I respond.

We spent what felt like an eternity running through only one song, striving for perfection. The two hours seemed to blur together as we tirelessly recorded take after take. By the end of it, my throat feels raw and I yearn for a much-needed break. Not practicing the vocal cords for a few weeks was a grave mistake I won't make again. Even if I pop into a garage and just scream. As I sit on the stool within the booth and take a sip of water, Gerald's voice booms through the headphones.

"Jax? You might want to come out here," he says with a concerned tone.

I peer through the plexiglass, my heart pounding with worry as I take in the ashen complexion of my friends. "Is everything all right?" I ask, attempting to conceal the anxiety in my voice while furrowing my brow, standing from my stool slowly.

James gently reaches over and lifts the headset off Gerald, placing it over his own ears. His expression transforms into profound regret as he turns to me and quietly says, "Jax, there's been an accident."

A wave of overwhelming nausea grips me, leaving me frozen in place. My chest tightens with anxiety, and a weak feeling spreads through my knees as worry consumes me. The metallic clatter of my headset hitting the ground echoes through the cramped booth as I burst through the door and sprint toward James. With urgency gripping me, I reach out and grab him by the shoulders, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

My heart pounds against my chest as I demand, "what do you mean there was an accident? Who was in the accident, James?" My voice quivered with fear as I awaited his answer.

James wears an expression of utter dismay as he struggles to find the right words to say before a comforting hand lands on my shoulder. I turn around and find Gareth standing behind me, tears staining his cheeks, revealing the depth of the severity of the situation.

"I'm so sorry, brother," he chokes out.

My cheeks are suddenly wet with hot tears as a heavy lump forms in my throat with a terrible sensation gnawing at the pit of my stomach.

"Will somebody just tell me what the FUCK is going on?" I demand, my voice cracking.

"You should probably sit down, Jax," Casey says cautiously from behind me.

"No, I don't want to fucking sit down. I want someone to fucking tell me what is going on," I bark. "Where the hell is my phone?" I demand, frantically scanning the room.

Gareth firmly grips my shoulders as he pulls me over to the couch, compelling me to take a seat with an assertive force.

His voice quivered as he began, "there was an accident," and his hand gently settled on my shoulder, his eyes filled with empathy as he tried to capture my attention.

The salty taste of tears flooded my mouth as my vision blurred. A relentless pounding filled my ears, making it hard to think. I sought solace by leaning against the back of the couch, my hands pressing against my closed eyes. A desperate sob broke free from my lips as I whispered, "No," shaking my head in disbelief.

"I received a call from Nora," he began again, his own tears welling up. "She told me they were on their way back from brunch. As they were driving through a green light, another vehicle was coming off the highway, and ran through their red light and hit them, Jax." He paused, taking a moment to compose himself. "She said the paramedics took her away from the scene, but Allie was still trapped inside the car when they drove away. I'm so sorry, Jax," he managed to say before breaking down in tears.

I collapse forward in my seat, my head dropping into my lap as a piercing scream erupts from deep within me, reverberating in the confined space around us. My heart hammers against my ribcage, as if it wants to break free. Uncontrollable sobs wrack my body. I still have so much left to say to her. I need to get to the hospital. Now.

I leap up from my seat, my heart pounding with anger, hurt, and panic coursing through me. If they want to sit here and wonder what's going on that's fine but I'm not doing that. I can't. I find my keys in my pocket and snatch my phone from the coffee table as I run outside onto the sidewalk in the direction of the parking garage. With every step, the pavement stings beneath the soles of my feet as I pound the ground, and the sensation lingers until I finally reach my car.

As soon as I enter my car I connect the Bluetooth to the car and set up the GPS to the hospital. A text message dings on my phone as soon as the location sets in.

Ana: Jax... Call me as soon as you get this please.. It's urgent

After reading the message I call Ana right away, the phone ringing a few times before she answers making it seem endless.

"Hello?" Ana answers mid sob.

"Ana, it's me. Did Allie make it there yet?" I ask in a panic.

As I held the phone to my ear, I could hear Ana's heart-wrenching wails reverberating through the line, causing my own heart to momentarily falter in its rhythm. "Oh, Jax," she sobs, her voice filled with anguish. "You need to get here as fast as you can."