The next morning, they got to the record label’s building. It was across the river into New Jersey, up in Union City, in a six-story brick construct that didn’t look any different from the ones on either side. Honestly, Emerson had been expecting something ritzy and upscale. Maybe the inside would be different.
The driver’s name was Rachel, another member of Sean’s entourage. Macie brought Rachel in for long trips, and she was the one who drove the bus on tours. Her skills were easy to see; she navigated the streets of both cities, and the tunnel, like she had taken police driving courses. The SUV squeezed into spaces Emerson didn’t believe possible, and the drive had such a smooth flow. He hadn’t even felt scared, she exuded so much confidence and competence.
Rachel dropped Emerson, Sean, and Jake off on the corner, then drove off down the street. Macie was busy double checking their hotel bookings for the tour, so she hadn’t joined them on this excursion. She trusted Jake to keep Sean in line. Or maybe that was Emerson’s job for the day.
They entered the nondescript building and took a shabby elevator to the top floor. There, several doors lined the hallways, all with plain, black plaques stating the name of the business. They walked down the corridor until they found “Blue Sky.” The sign didn’t state what kind of company it was, but neither had any of the others Emerson read on the way.
Jake knocked on the door, and it immediately opened. An older woman stood there, a professional smile on her face. “Right on time, gentlemen. Come on in.” She pulled them into a tiny office then shut the door and locked it. Though the room was small, it was also lavish—much different from the exterior decor. It looked like a record label business was supposed, sleek black countertops at the receptionist’s desk, and plush gray armchairs lining the room. The walls were painted a soft cream and matched the thick carpet.
“Tandra,” Sean greeted, giving the woman a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. “So good to see you.”
“You, too, Sean. We weren’t expecting you until after the tour, so when Macie rang, we thought something was wrong. We’re glad that it was good news.” She turned away from Sean, and hugged Jake just as warmly. Then, she looked to Emerson. “So, this is the infamous Emerson.” She grinned to imply the name was given to him fondly. “We’re eager to hear what you can do.”
The nausea roiling in Emerson’s stomach doubled at that. This was too much pressure. It was possible that Sean heard Emerson’s playing and singing with love-tinted senses. What if these record executives laughed out loud at Emerson’s skills? He knew he wasn’t that great.
“Nice to meet you,” Emerson said, pushing past his discomfort. He chose this path, he had to walk it. “I’m anxious to get started.”
“Well, then let’s not dawdle. I’ll show you to the back where Alice can get you both settled.”
She opened one of several doors that lined the outer edge of the office. It led to a long hallway with wood panels along the walls. As they walked, Tandra filled them in on what else was going on in the office. There were two other big-name stars using rooms at the moment. She didn’t drop their names, but she winked at Sean. It must have meant something because Sean laughed. At the end of the corridor was another door. Tandra pushed it open and gestured them through.
It was a sound room, with equipment taking up a huge portion of the space. Dividing the room was a glass wall, with the recording booth on the opposite side. In a swivel chair in front of the soundboard was Alice. She squealed when she saw Sean, and ran to him. Sean’s own smile was wide and welcoming on the surface, but Emerson caught a hint of turmoil underneath.
“Sean! So glad to see you!”
“You, too, Alice.”
“I’ve already got everything prepped, so let’s get you both in the booth.” She didn’t even bother looking in Emerson’s direction, only rounded him up with Sean and ushered them toward the other room. Jake followed with Molly, Sean’s performance guitar, in a fancy travel case.
The recording booth was unlike anything Emerson had ever experienced. With the door open, it was like a normal, small room. Sound dampeners installed on the walls and ceiling cut off most noise. When Jake entered and shut the door, it sealed them in. The air suddenly thickened, and a pressure pushed in on Emerson’s eardrums. The sound of Jake setting Molly on the ground was soft and barely seemed to reach Emerson.
“Sean, you know the ropes,” Alice said, her voice flatter because of the padding. “Warm up while I get everything settled on my end.”
“Sure. Thanks, Alice.” Even Sean’s monotone voice, which Emerson had gotten used to, and loved, sounded dead. It made him shiver.
Alice left, and Jake followed after setting Molly on a stand close by. “Good luck,” he said.
The door opened, allowing Emerson’s ears to pop, then they were shut in again, like astronauts in a floating capsule, a million miles from another human soul. He suddenly wanted to clasp ahold of Sean, reach out and make sure he wasn’t alone in here. But that was childish, so he forced down the sensation.
“All right,” Sean said. “Go ahead and take a seat.” He gestured to a low stool with a plush cushion on top.
Emerson sat.
Next, Sean arranged microphones around them. One in front of Emerson’s mouth, another even with the sound hole of the guitar, and a final, taller one where Sean would stand. Emerson had been afraid they’d be forced to record separately, and was glad they’d be able to sing together. It was easier to keep his pitch with Sean’s leading vocals right beside him.
“Go ahead and try strumming,” Sean said. Then he smiled reassuring. “Relax. You’re going great.”
Emerson plucked on the strings and winced at the odd sound. It wasn’t bad, per se, just not what his ears expected.
Next, Sean gave him a pair of headphones. Emerson put them on and felt sudden relief from the oppressive room. Sean put a similar pair over his own ears.
“How’s that?” Sean asked, and his voice barely traveled through Emerson’s headphones.
“Better,” Emerson said. “The quiet was kind of freaky.”
Sean leaned forward and spoke into the mic and Emerson heard him clearly now. “Keep going and get used to it. Alice, you all set there?”
Emerson glanced up and through the glass separating the two rooms. He hadn’t realized Alice was on this line, too, but of course that made sense.
“Almost. Let’s give Emerson a few more minutes to get used to the sound.”
“Try it now,” Sean said into the mic. “We can adjust the levels if we need to.”
Emerson hesitantly strummed his fingers along all five strings. They echoed harmoniously into the microphone and traveled to Emerson’s ears. It sounded clear as crystal. He played a chord and it was a struggle to keep his jaw from dropping. Its vibrations were perfect. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.
“Keep going,” Sean coerced with a knowing smile. “Play the opening of ‘Flyin’ High.’”
Nodding, he did as requested. It took him a few tries to get it right; his mind kept lingering on how well the chords resonated in his ears.
When he finally made it through the opening riff, Sean said, “Now try singing, Em. Try them both together.”
Emerson played the first chord of the verse and sang Sean’s melody—not the harmony he usually did.
The blue sky beckons. The clouds run away.
Right now they won’t ruin anything,
though we know they’ll come again another day.
So we live for this moment, nothing to hold us back.
Put your hand in mine, follow me down this one-way track.
Using the momentum, Emerson launched into the chorus.
Flyin’ high, you and I.
Never coming down from the sky.
Keepin’ our eyes on the horizon.
All the weights we carry lighten.
When we’re together anything can happen.
Way up high. Baby let’s try.
Em
erson’s fingers froze on the strings. He glanced up at Sean, hoping to be reassured.
Sean’s eyes were misty and he was looking at Emerson with a sweetly perplexed expression.
Emerson raised his eyebrow, silently asking for clarification.
Instead of using words, Sean surged forward and brought their lips together. Emerson kissed back, letting his own awe of the whole situation wash over him.
“I love you,” Sean said softly, the warmth of his words on Emerson’s lips.
“I love you,” Emerson said back.
Sean jumped in surprise, but recovered. He resumed the kiss, making it deeper this time, and adding in his signature moan that made Emerson’s blood boil.
“Guys,” said Jake into their headphones. “We’re all set.”
Sean didn’t leap away, like Emerson would have if he were the one standing. Almost lazily, Sean took a step backward, though his eyes were still glued to Emerson. His face was so perfect that it made Emerson’s heart hurt. And those green eyes, so expressive and open, held so many promises.
“I love you,” Emerson repeated.
With a blissful smile and a nod, Sean turned away to situate his microphone. “Let’s get started,” he said.
Chapter 21
Emerson kept his eyes on the passing landscape, focusing on something in the distance. It seemed to help, letting the foreground zoom past without attention. This way, it hardly seemed like they were moving. Maybe they were still near the city, not too late to back out of this.
“Hun,” Sean said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “You still doing okay?”
Emerson grunted in reply. He didn’t trust himself to speak.
“Em, sweetie, look at me.”
He tore his eyes away from the grass and flowers, focusing on the deeper green of Sean’s eyes.
“You okay?” Sean repeated. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, returning to the window. Having his gaze off their placid surroundings, even for that brief moment, had increased his nausea.
Sean’s uninjured hand rubbed Emerson’s back. “It’s okay to be nervous. This is all new to you. But, don’t be nervous now. We’ve still got two days till the concert. You’ll just wear yourself out if you get worked up now.”
Emerson grunted.
After a quick laugh, Sean fell silent and left Emerson to his brooding. The past two weeks had gone by like a blur. It was surreal when he heard his own voice on the radio, swirling amidst Sean’s incredibly melodic tones. He still couldn’t believe it. Even with so much evidence staring him in the face.
The bus headed toward Boston, their first destination on this nearly month-long tour. Sean anticipated Emerson’s blinding terror and suggested they arrive a day early to let him relax before the actual concert. It sounded good in theory, but in practicality it wasn’t working yet.
Behind Emerson, a plethora of people sat in the bus’s padded seats. Macie, of course, and Jake. But also Patty, their official photographer and Jake’s wife, Carlos, the equipment manager, Lyla, Sean’s personal assistant, Mills, who ran sound, and Ryan, Jose, and Georgiana, who did odd jobs as they came up. Each person added something to the group, and they had a cohesive flow between them. Sean had greeted each one with genuine fondness when they’d gathered that morning.
Emerson felt like an outsider. Oh, they’d all been courteous to him, and praised him for his playing and singing abilities, but he felt like the burned-out light on the Christmas tree that made the others look out of synch. This group had done every single show together for the past six years. Emerson had only been brought in three weeks ago. He couldn’t compete with that level of familiarity.
So, on top of stage fright, he had to battle his unfounded envy.
Sean settled into the seat beside Emerson and put his arm over Emerson’s shoulder. He leaned close and whispered, “Anything I can do to help?”
Emerson appreciated the gesture, and the coy way Sean said it—implying just how he could help—but Emerson shook his head.
“I’m really okay. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I’m not saying you can’t handle it,” Sean countered. “Only letting you know you don’t have to worry over it alone. I’m here, Em.”
Emerson looked way from the window and gazed at Sean in wonder. Such simple words, but they meant the world to Emerson. He knew Sean was there, of course, but hearing it aloud made some of the tightness in his body loosen.
“You know,” Sean said conversationally, which immediately let Emerson know he’d worked up the courage to say this. “If you perform in Boston and hate it, we can find someone else. I don’t want you to think you’re backed into a corner. You’ve never signed any contractual dates.”
Emerson turned his body to face Sean. “I don’t want you to sing with someone else. I won’t share.”
Sean laughed softly and rested their foreheads together. “I’m glad you said that.” Then he hesitated, but right before he looked ready to speak, he suddenly pulled away. “We should practice. That’ll help you feel better.”
He went to Carlos and asked for Tally. Carlos rooted through their equipment until he found the right case. Sean took the guitar out and returned to Emerson’s side.
“We gonna sing?” Georgiana asked in her thick, southern accent.
“You taking requests?” Mills asked right on top of her.
Sean scolded them in a playful manner. “Quiet down, you ruffians. Let Emerson just play what he wants.”
Smiling for the first time since he boarded the bus, Emerson plucked the first chords of Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.”
* * * *
Sean watched as Emerson yawned for the third time. “All right, Em. Maybe you should take a quick nap now.”
“No,” said Carlos. “We want to keep singing.”
For the last hour, Emerson sang any song they requested. Anything. Sean had stared on in shock as Emerson’s fingers played complex chords that Sean would have struggled with. The memories of music were like a bike, Sean had said. Emerson must have been truly amazing when he was in college.
Why did he quit? It wasn’t the first time Sean wondered over this topic. Emerson had so much talent. If he’d been playing consistently in all this time, he’d have surpassed Sean by now. As of right now, he was getting close. It should have made him jealous, but all it did was deepen his affection for Emerson. The man was remarkable.
“Emerson needs to rest,” he told Carlos and the others who complained. “So that means you all need to be quiet.”
They grumbled even more about that.
Sean tugged at Emerson’s shirt sleeve. “Come on, Em.”
He rose and followed Sean to the back of the bus. The seats were flat so Emerson could stretch out on one almost completely. His feet hung over the edge, but not enough to be bothersome. Sean grabbed a blanket and a pillow from a stack in the last row and helped Emerson get situated.
“Nap for an hour or two,” Sean said softly, lacing his fingers through Emerson’s hair. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Emerson’s temple. “We’ll be there before you know it.”
Emerson yawned loudly and nodded. Then he shut his eyes.
Sean headed back to the front of the bus and took a seat beside Macie.
“God, he’s so stressed,” Sean told her. “Was I like this when I first started?”
“No,” Macie said with a chuckle. “You were born to be in the spotlight, Sean. Emerson’s never experienced anything like this before. He’ll get used to it before long, though.”
“I’m not sure. I’m afraid he’ll hate it, and want to go back to his old life.”
“He may choose that, and you can’t force him to like this way of living. It’s not for everyone.”
Sean grimaced. “I know. I won’t force him. But, Macie, having him with me makes me see how much better it is with another person.”
She raised her eyebrow and gestured to the full bus.
He roll
ed his eyes at her. She’d missed his meaning intentionally. “Singing, I mean. Why have I been a solo act all this time? I’m a folk singer. I need a duettist. I want him to stay, forever. We make a good team.”
Jake leaned across the aisle and patted Sean’s knee in commiseration. “You can’t rush into it like that, Sean. Let Emerson have a small taste first. If you tell him you want him to stay before he’s even done it once, it might overwhelm him. He’s way outside his comfort zone right now. Be patient, for once.”
“I hate being patient,” Sean muttered. But for Emerson, he would be. If the concert when well, Emerson would have to realize that this would be the best scenario. They were so perfect together! He sighed again. Patience.
Emerson slept the rest of the ride there. Sean contented himself with reading. He had a small pile of books, a dozen or so biographies. The others talked quietly or napped themselves. Rachel—the driver—eventually turned on a radio, but kept the volume low. Sean selected a book on Mozart and before he knew it, the bus was pulling up in front of a hotel.
“Shit, we got here fast! I’m going to wake up Em.”
Macie stood. “I’ll go get us checked in. Rachel, after you drop me off, can you park in the back?”
Sean hurried to the rear of the bus where Emerson slept. He had curled into a ball at some point, and a small pool of slobber glistened on the pillow. He looked so fucking adorable.
Sean leaned over and rested a hand on Emerson’s hip. “Em, it’s time to get up. We’re at the hotel.”
With a groan that turned into a yawn, Emerson stretched. The shirt rode up, exposing the skin of his stomach.
“We’re here already?” he asked drowsily.
“Yeah, you slept the whole way. How do you feel?”
“Tired. Help me up?”
Sean grabbed Emerson’s hand and gave a tug. When he sat up, Emerson’s hair was flat on the side and pointing toward the ceiling. Sean tried to set it right, but it resisted.
“Let’s get you up to bed,” Sean said, keeping his hand still clasped to Emerson’s.
“My bag—”
“Georgiana, Ryan, and Jose will unpack. Don’t worry about it.”
Double Act Page 16