| Chapter 2 |
| Wednesday, January 17th 2001 Gunner Studios Vancouver, Canada I shook the rain from my long red hair as the warmth of the studio wrapped itself around my svelte figure. The studio was far more busy than usual. Crates of this and that were being hauled in; business-types were everywhere pacing with cell phones. I turned to chat with Janie, the secretary. "Does the mystery band have this much industry power?" I inquired, reaching behind the desk to check my messages. Junk, junk, oh goodie my new art pencils arrived. "Island's put a lot of money behind them. but what I've heard some of these people saying," her manicured hand gestures to the business-types as she leaned closer to me in order to whisper,"is that if this album doesn't sell, then they'll be dropped. Oh, Bruce wants you to clean Studio 2." "Alright. Have fun with the power-suit pricks," I laughed as I went about my day. ********** As I unlocked the doors to Studio 2, I felt my breath catch in my throat. This band really does have good money backing them, I thought. Shiny black keyboards, glistening drums, and, Holy Mother Of All That Is Good And Pure, three Gibson Les Pauls. I've never even seen ONE of these, and the mystery band's guitar player has three. I knelt down and ran the tips of my fingers along the edge of the red one and sighed. Fighting an almost overpowering urge to pick it up and play, I returned to what I was being paid to do: clean. I set about the task of dusting, quietly singing "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," by the Beatles to myself. "Picture yourself in a boat on a river With tangerine trees and marmalade skies. Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, A girl with kaleidoscope eyes. Cellophane flowers of yellow and green, Towering over your head. Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes And she's gone." I was so caught up in my own thoughts that it took me a few seconds to realize that a second person was in the room. "Lucy in the sky with diamonds Lucy in the sky with diamonds Ahhhhhh." I proceeded to jump twenty feet in the air and let out a high-pitched scream that would have put Fay Wray to shame. "What the hell do you think you're doing sneaking up on me like that? Don't you have to decency to properly make your presence known," I glowered at him. "I'm sorry miss, but your voice..." "I know, I know, it's crap and I shouldn't be allowed to sing," I interrupted him, still annoyed that someone had scared me like that. I went back to my dusting. "Actually, I was going to say that your voice was beautiful," he mused as he stepped closer to me. "You have a lot of soul," he smiled as I felt myself blushing. "Well, I'm a passionate person." "Oh, really?" He wiggled his eyebrows in an exxagerated manner. I laughed. "I'm Julia Churchill, resident slave of Gunner Studios." I extended my hand. "Isaac Hanson, guitarist extraordinaire." He kissed it. |