The words began to flow onto the paper, and Chicago blended with my present day feelings and heartache. I dropped the pen on the paper after I titled the top of the paper “Whiskey and Smoke”. I rubbed my shoulders and rolled my neck to relieve some of the pressure from sitting over the paper so long. I went out for a quick walk with Cash and to smoke a cigarette. When I returned to the patio area behind the studio, Jagger was propped up on the brick wall, smoking a cigarette of his own.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” he smiles.
“Right?”
“It’s amazing how easy it is to get caught up in the lyrics. You seemed frustrated earlier.”
“Frustration is probably an understatement. It had to be perfect.”
“Yeah?” he asks curiously.
I look down at my shoes and try to find the words without choking up on emotion. I barely manage, “Yeah.”
Silence stretches between us and I continue to look at my shoes, lost in my own thoughts, doubting if the song was perfect. I was second-guessing every word I wrote. Would Red even like the damn song? My thoughts were interrupted by Jag’s shoes entering my view. His hand goes to my chin and lifts it where I take in his beautiful blue eyes.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hey,” I whisper.
He swallows hard as he looks at my mouth. I know he is thinking about kissing me. I wish he would. I miss the way his lips feel against mine. I miss the Jagger and Henley that existed before the Claudia fiasco. I want that man back. I want the same relationship back, free of hurt, pain, and doubt. He rubs his thumb over my cheek. My eyes close of their own volition, and I’m overtaken with so many emotions with his mere touch. I don’t need to think of drugs or feel the need to numb anything I feel right now. I only need this man and his touch. I need the way he makes my heart seem to skip a little beat here and there.
“Henley,” my name is barely a whisper.
I open my eyes in time to see him leaning down to kiss me, and my eyes automatically close so I can concentrate on how it all feels. His lips softly brush against mine, and he turns his head slightly to dive in deeper, but we’re interrupted by the sound of a camera. What the fuck? We both spin around to see a man with a humongous camera taking pictures.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jag yells.
The man flips Jag off and hauls ass. Great! That will be all over the internet in about five minutes. Kip and Memphis fly through the back door looking around for the sound of the commotion I suppose they heard from Jagger’s scream. They look around for the source of his anger, and finally eyes land on me.
“Paparazzi,” I say and shrug.
I make my way back into the studio to avoid anything awkward with Jagger. I pick up an electric guitar and begin singing the song softly to myself still doubting the level of perfection the song has reached. I play around with riffs for quite a while knowing when I find it, the song will come to life.
“You need to eat,” Jessica says.
I haven’t seen her since I came home from rehab, and I realize in this moment how much I miss her and need her. I shoot up from the couch and throw my arms around her. I hug her tightly, and as if she understood what it meant and what I needed, she hugged me back fiercely. We held onto each other for quite some time.
“I missed you so much, Hen,” she says.
“I missed you too.”
“I’m here. Come to me when it gets tough. I’m always here.”
“Thank you.”
“Now get your skinny white ass in here and eat,” she smiles as she breaks our embrace.
I eat with everyone in the small conference room outside the control room. Everyone seems in a lively mood, and I enjoy the banter between them for the first time since I’ve been home. I smile freely and eat entirely too much. After lunch, I take a nap in the control room on the most comfortable couch in the entire studio. Cash curls into a ball and lays his head on my neck. I throw my arm around him and drift off into unconsciousness.
Caleb drives through the lot and security opens a gate for him. He cranks the stereo up to drown out the screaming fans on the other side of the gate, and once we escape unscathed, he turns it down. We both burst into laughter at the extent fans go to just to see us for a moment in time. Caleb finds interstate 75 South and we are Macon bound. My grandfather will be waiting up. He loves night fishing too. Caleb is rambling on about two girls who spent their time in the front row flashing him. He grins his best boyish grin. He loves being a musician.
I begin to tease him on catching the most fish last time we were home. Of course he says I cheated.
"Oh yeah? Then put your money where your mouth is big boy,” I say.
"Name it."
"Hmmm, how about you wear a thong bikini for the next six shows? I think hot pink will work."
"I will take that deal. If I catch the most, then you have to wear a thong bikini for the next six shows. Cherry red though,” he gambles.
"Fine. But if you get lucky and win, Koi will throttle you," I laugh.
"Then we shouldn't warn him. You just strut your hot little ass on stage and let him brood the entire show. That will be fun to watch from the stage when his ass can't do a damn thing about it for two hours,” he roars in laughter.
I feel a slight bump from the rear of the car and quickly look over at Caleb. His smile drops instantly, and his eyes are locked on the rear view mirror. In one second, I see a look of utter horror spread over his face. He reaches for my hand and holds tight.
"Henley!" He screams.
He throws his upper body over mine and pushes me against the seat. I look out the front glass to see what's happening, but the world is turning upside down and then it rights itself for only a moment when it turns again. Each time the small car flips on its roof my head hits the top, and the seat belt grabs my torso and digs into my shoulder blade.
Then it all stops. I am floating. At least it feels like I am floating. I don't hurt or ache. I only float in darkness. Why is it so fucking dark? I hear muffled screams. Where am I? Who is screaming? I can't seem to form words or open my eyes. I start to panic. Am I dead? I can't die yet! I am only twenty-two years old! Please don't let me die! Whatever entity or Creator or spirit is out there, please don't let this be it! Shit, you have to at least let me make it to the 27 club!
I hear a cough, and then I realize I felt the cough. That must be me. Then my eyes finally open. The screams are still muffled, and my vision is blurry. I can't see or hear who is screaming. Where is Caleb? I look to my left and don't see him. I realize I am hanging upside down. Caleb must be screaming because I am still inside. My vision clears up little by little, and then it seems as if someone turns the volume up. The urgency I hear in the screams is amplified by actual screams.
"Are you awake? Can you hear me? I see someone!"
I still can't get my voice to work, but I can see. I see the seatbelt is holding me in place. I try to find the release with my left hand but my arm isn't working properly. I place my feet straight down for leverage and reach across my body with my right hand. I have to move my body to the left a good bit to reach the release. It doesn’t want to let go. Shit. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Please let go. I try a few more times before the buckle finally releases. I then look for a way out of this little tin can of a car. Most of my window is smashed and is lying on the ground, completely blocked by concrete.
The driver side window is crushed. How did Caleb get out? I lie down a bit more to get a good look at the windshield. Glass presses into my skin, and I let out a whimper. The voices outside become shriller when they hear me, but I can't focus on them. I have to get out of here. I see an opening big enough for my petite body to fit through, but sharp glass is still jutting from the rubber molding. I kick the glass the best I can and turn my face away to avoid getting glass in my eyes.
I finally manage to get most of the glass out, but I have to position my body in a
painful and unusual position to crawl out. As I place my left arm down for balance, a vicious pain runs from the tip of my fingers to my shoulder blade. I scream in agony.
The people outside the car are telling me to be still. They promise help is on the way. I don't know these people.
"Caleb!" I scream. “Caleb!”
I push through the people hovered around Caleb and start my prayers. Please let him be okay. He has to be okay. I find Caleb lying on grass, his eyes closed. I fall to my knees and place my ear on his chest. I can't hear any breath sounds. I can't hear his heartbeat. Okay. It's okay. I took CPR in high school. Remember Henley. It's.... um... it's… thirty compressions, two breaths, and repeat until help arrives.
I tilt his head back and open his mouth to clear his airway. I count thirty compressions, and my arm screams with every single push. I lean down and give Caleb two breaths and then begin my compressions again. Come on Caleb, open your eyes. I continue ten sets of compressions and breaths when I see Kip lower himself to the ground beside me. When I catch his movement out of my peripheral vision, I quickly turn and nod. I need to concentrate on the count, so I turn back to Caleb and count. Jagger lowers himself to his knees on the other side of Caleb. I don’t take my eyes off Caleb though.
Please Caleb. Please breathe for me. I need you to open your eyes. I don’t know how much longer I can do this with my arm. Please be okay. I can’t do this. I can’t lose you. Where is the fucking ambulance? It should be here by now. I just need to continue CPR until they get here. They will take him to the hospital and fix him. God, they have to fix him. He will be fine. When he gets out of the hospital we will fish every day for a damn month. Come on Caleb! Fight for me, please! Fight for your parents, our fans, and our friends! I can’t fight by myself.
“No, no, no, no, Caleb!” I scream and startle myself awake. I sit up suddenly and see an entire room of eyes on me. Shit! The nausea hits me with such force I jump from the couch and head to the nearest restroom where I empty my stomach. When I manage to stop the dry heaves, I sit against the wall and wipe the sweat from my face. I haven’t had that dream in quite a while now. This dream wasn’t a version of that night like it usually is, it was the actual wreck and subsequent events.
A knock comes at the door, “Hen, you okay?” Jessica asks.
“Yeah. I’ll be out in a second.”
I wash my face, mouth, and hands before I head back out. Everyone looks busy when I emerge and I know it’s all an act. They’re worried. I feel their energy overwhelming me. I find solace in the live room with a guitar. When I pick it up this time, the riffs flow right out and the song inches a little closer to being done. I get Rhys, Memphis, and Griffin in the live room so they can add their own area of expertise, and five hours later we perform the final cut of the instrumentation.
“It’s two in the morning. I’m calling it a night,” Griffin says.
***
Henley
I arrive at the studio at eight the next morning, itching to get this song complete. I’m nervous and excited at the same time. When I woke this morning, I didn’t feel the need to use, instead I felt the need to sing and shove all my emotions into this one song. Cash and I are the first ones here this morning; so I pull up the last cut of the instrumentation for the song and listen to it for close to an hour on repeat attempting to get a sense for how the vocals should sound.
After two hours in the studio, I‘ve had close to a pot of coffee, and I begin to sing softly to myself testing out the way I pronounce certain words. I play with inflection and key of my voice as I push in on my ears so I can hear myself. I try not to think about the words I wrote at Red’s song at this moment because I bared my soul in them, and they aren’t easy to sing. I focus on each sentence as just that, words forming a complete thought void of the aching in my heart that acted as inspiration.
I have no idea how long I sit in the live room trying out different ways to sing this song. I finally take a smoke break and take Cash for a walk. When I reach the back patio after his walk, it is full of musicians, family, and friends. Abandoned Shadow, Broken Access, Resin, Kai, Dad, Kathrine, Jessica, Sam, Meghan, and other musicians from the industry are all crowded onto the patio with boxes of pizza. I enjoy embraces from each person there, and Cash thoroughly enjoys being showered with attention since he thinks each of these people gathered here for his sake.
“How long have you been here?” Memphis asks.
“Since eight.”
“You look tired,” Koi says.
“Not really, I’m lost in this song right now.”
Koi smiles at me.
I pick up a slice of pizza and grab water to wash it down with. I enjoy the camaraderie for close to an hour. We all tell stories from the road we’ve experienced over the years, and each story gets crazier. I’m appreciative for this time as I haven’t laughed this much in a long time. I feel lighter, more carefree from the interaction. I feel almost like me again.
“Where are we on this new song?” Kai asks.
All eyes turn to me and I feel as though I’m sitting under a microscope. In years past, I had nothing to write about that was so full of pain, longing, and the most delicate of emotions most individuals hide from the world. Now, it’s all I have to write about. Life has thrown a lot my way these last five years, so it naturally comes out in the music. I’ve exposed my most inner thoughts and fears for the world to see, but it doesn’t mean it is easy for others to listen to it.
“I think I’m ready to step into the vocal booth but I’ve been thinking…I’d like for Koi to lay some background vocals over it if he’s up for it,” I say.
“I’d love to. Can I see the song?” he asks.
I nod and pull out the paper where my pain bled through in ink.
He takes the lyrics, and he takes a step away from the crowd. The crowd returns to their conversations and I watch Koi read my words. His face relays understanding, hurt, and sadness as he reads the lyrics. When he is done I see him begin at the top of the paper and he reads it again and again and again. When he’s read it what seems like ten times, he makes eye contact with me and simply nods. He gets it and wants to be a part of the song. I nod back, and offer a sad smile. He motions to the door and I follow, and the crowd follows through the live room into the control room. Koi and I remain in the live room.
“Deep shit. I had to hold back tears, Hen,” Koi says.
“Thank you?”
“Yeah. It’s a beautiful song. I’m glad you asked me to background vocals; I want to be a part of this song. You ready to step into the booth?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I step into the vocal booth which is in a small room off the live room. I put my headphones on and hear Kai testing them.
“I can hear you,” I say.
“Alight. Let me know when you’re ready,” Kai says.
I take a deep breath, pull the lyrics out and place them on the music stand. Taking several more deep breaths and attempting to calm my nerves, I signal for Kai to begin the music. I listen to the beginning and miss my mark. I apologize and ask for him to restart it. I take the moments before it begins again to shake my nerves. As I listen to the music, I find my mark this time. I begin the song with a low pitch and slowly climb to my best blues voice. When I reach the chorus, “Please don’t leave me,” cracks through my voice box and I’m fighting past the lump in my throat that those four words have formed. I stop singing and sigh into the mic.
“Hen?” Kip comes through the headphones.
“I’m okay. I just need a minute,” I say looking down at my shoes.
The music stops, and I’m left alone with these overwhelming emotions.
“Let’s go for a smoke break,” Kip says again in my headphones.
I nod in agreement even though he may not see it. He opens the vocal booth door, and I follow him out to the patio. Words don’t pass between us as we smoke a few cigarettes.
“Let it out. Everything that’s inside of you… let it out. If it takes you fifty cuts to get this down, we’re doing this. You have an army in the control room cheering you on. We’re all doing this together. K?”
I smile at his much-needed pep talk, “Yeah.”
Back in the booth, I place the headphones over my ears once again, and signal for the music to begin. I miss my mark intentionally and ask Kai to let it play through. I close my eyes and imagine how the words will sound as they come straight from my heart and pass across my lips. A few seconds pass between the end and the restart of the music, and again I ask him to let it play. I repeat this several times until I just begin to sing. I don’t think about tone or pitch or whether it should sound like the blues or more rockish, I just sing… for Red. I let it all out like Kip told me to. I never open my eyes because I know the words. I don’t need a piece of paper to remember the words. I’ve felt them since that day in Chicago.
I record eleven more cuts of the song, each time closing my eyes and feeling every word I wrote. Koi steps into the booth and immediately begins laying down background vocals. I make my way to the control room and listen to him. I ignore everyone in the room. I opt to listen to him through the headphones instead of listening to the speakers in the room. I’m not ready to face the room full of people who are digesting my words.
Koi’s voice sounds beautiful supporting my own, and it rounds out the sound and vocals well. He takes several cuts and Kai assures me it is enough as he begins to mix the final cut of the song. I watch his every move on the computer and impatiently wait to hear the final sound. I grow impatient and begin to pace around the room.
“Smoke break,” Jagger says and throws his arm around my shoulder. “You’re making us all nervous as hell.”
“Sorry,” I frown.
“S’okay.”
I follow Jag and Koi out to the patio and watch Kip take Cash for another walk. Jagger never takes his arm from around me, and I eventually just give in to his touch and rest my head on his shoulder. His thumb rubs circles on the top of my arm, and he tucks his chin on top of my head. Now and then he squeezes me a little, and that squeeze is enough to light a fire between my legs. Jesus.
Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 55