JJ caught my eye as Dylan started to play the opening notes of “Concepts” on his keyboard. The crowd seemed to draw in a collective breath as the haunting, music box style intro picked up speed. JJ nodded at me, the left corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly before he opened his mouth and started to sing my words with as much passion as he devoted to his favorite songs.
Everything after that was a blur. I tried to be analytical, but I couldn’t think straight over the sound of the crowd. Everyone was dancing, arms up, bright smiles and brighter lights streaking across my vision. The song sounded good, perfectly at home in the dark club. JJ was beaming as the song finished, and I joined him, pushing my sweat-streaked hair away from my eyes so I could take in the scene properly.
“That was amazing!” JJ gushed as we bounced off the stage.
I reached for him, pulling him into my arms, so I could feel the heat of his skin. I could barely hear over the rush of blood in my head, dazed by the hammering of my heart and the glimmer of pride in his eyes.
“You’re amazing,” I murmured, catching his smiling mouth in a bruising kiss.
He wound his arms around my neck, keeping me close even after our kiss came to a natural end.
“You won’t get an argument from me,” he said, smiling widely as he let me go.
I wasn’t the only one who had been stunned by the reaction “Concepts” had drawn from the crowd. Jessica and Ash chatted excitedly all the way back to Wayville while Dylan nodded along. There was one thing we were all clear on—we needed to get the songs recorded, as soon as possible.
“Can’t we use your dad’s studio space?” JJ asked after climbing into my room that night.
“It’s fully booked just now. Bands are starting to get demos together, looking to land a summer tour,” I replied with a heavy sigh, lying back on the bed with my arm outstretched. He got the message, laying down beside me with his head on my chest.
His golden hair splashed across the black tee shirt stretched across my chest, glittering in the low light. I ran my hand through it, de-tangling the knotted strands as I gazed up at the ceiling. Within a few moments, his breathing was synced with mine, our chests rising and falling in perfect harmony.
“What are we going to do this summer?” he asked quietly, fingertips tapping out the “Concepts” beat against my chest.
I glanced down at him, caught off guard by his question. JJ didn’t talk about the future, not really. He’d share his (our?) dreams like they were certainties—success, an arena tour, the rock ‘n’ roll loving world at our feet. It wasn’t like him to ask a serious question about our future.
“You want the daydream version, or the realistic version?” I said, trying to keep my tone casual.
“Which version am I in?”
There was something in his eyes that I rarely saw when he was sober. He seemed so small, vulnerable even, folded up in my arms. I knew our future was uncertain. I hadn’t even decided what I wanted to do. I’d applied to some colleges while working harder than ever on Forever Fading Echoes. I knew where my heart lay, but it also happened to be where my fears lay as well.
I only knew a few things for certain, and my feelings for Jude were definitely high on that list.
“Both,” I told him quietly, dropping a quick kiss to his hair. “You’re the only thing I know I want, Jude. You’re the only thing I’m sure about.”
He tilted his head and caught my mouth in a blistering kiss. I held him a little bit tighter, kissed him a little bit deeper, and embraced him a little bit longer. I wasn’t sure where his sudden bout of insecurity had come from, but I wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. Everything came back to him—every thought, every daydream, every version of my future that I invested any sort of time in.
“I’ll go wherever you want,” he promised me, his voice barely above a whisper. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“I applied to a couple of colleges,” I admitted with a defeated sigh. “Maybe my dad’s right, getting an education can’t be a bad thing.”
“It’s good to keep your options open,” he agreed. “I’m not much of an academic.”
“You’re one of the smartest people I know,” I told him. It wasn’t a lie, either. JJ was as intelligent as Jessica, which had come as a bit of a surprise. He’d be one of the first people to admit he spent as much time avoiding school as he spent attending it.
“My dad would like me to go to college,” he said with a shrug. “Well, maybe like is a bit of an understatement. He’s expecting me to go to college.”
“See, that just makes me want to blow it off,” I joked, smiling down at him.
He grinned back at me. “I think we should do an EP, at least. There’s something amazing happening in the band right now, we should capture it,” he said, eyes shining.
He was planning something. There was no doubt about it. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his pretty little head. A plan that only he could pull off was falling into place. Back when we’d first met, knowing he was up to something would have made me uneasy, but I trusted him. In the cracks of the mask he’d worn for so long, I’d found someone to believe in. I didn’t need to know what he was up to because I knew it would be something crazy and perfect.
“I’m in.”
“Of course you are,” he cooed, nipping along my jaw line.
***
JJ’s plan was every bit as crazy as I had expected it to be.
He had decided that the lack of a local studio shouldn’t stop us from recording our EP. Instead of finding a small, cheap studio a few towns over, he booked us into the Sunset Studio in Los Angeles.
Some of my favorite albums had been recorded at the Sunset. I’d spent more hours than I’d care to admit using street view to walk along the street where the Sunset was based, sighing at the pixilated glimpse of the small building on the right. Just walking by it would have been amazing to me—recording in it was something I couldn’t begin to process.
“How . . .? Why . . .?” I stammered. I knew his words made sense. He’d strung the sentence together properly, but there was no way he could have said what I thought he’d said.
“They had a last minute cancellation,” he repeated, smiling so widely I was sure it would make his face hurt.
We were sitting in the practice studio, my guitar hanging loosely in my shocked grip. Jessica was staring at him, open-mouthed, while Ash and Dylan exchanged wide-eyed glances. He’d come strolling in, five minutes late but clutching our favorite coffees, so he’d been forgiven before he’d even opened his mouth.
“But . . . how the hell are we going to get to LA?” Jessica asked, snapping her fingers in front of my face to bring my eyes back into focus.
“My dad’s soul came with a really high price tag that happened to include access to a private plane. You know that little airstrip just past Monroeville? His pilot is going to pick us up there on Friday morning,” JJ explained with a casual shrug.
Apparently, he doesn’t find it completely crazy that his dad has a private plane. I was struggling to keep up. “Does your dad know we’re hijacking his jet?”
“It was his idea. He’s going to be in LA for the weekend, and we’re scheduled to have our monthly check-in. I asked him if I could bring some friends to the city with me to make the trip bearable. He doesn’t need to know what we do in our free time.”
He had it all planned out. We’d leave for LA Friday, on his dad’s private plane. We were booked into the Sunset from Friday night to Sunday afternoon. Our recording schedule would be tight, but he was sure we could do it. He’d take a break on Saturday night to go to dinner with his dad, but he’d make his excuses early, so he could come back to the studio. His dad wouldn’t mind, or even ask questions. As long as he could assure JJ’s grandmother that they’d had dinner that month, it’d be fine.
JJ had already booked us in to a five-star hotel, in case we actually got a chance to sleep. I was stunned
by how well he’d thought it out. My heart was swollen in my chest, beating so fast I felt giddy with it.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I told him, dropping my guitar into Jess’ waiting hands, so I could pull him in for a quick kiss. “Jesus Christ, what did we do to deserve you?”
“You took a chance on me, remember?” he murmured. “It’s time I repaid the favor.”
I couldn’t believe he had pulled off something so incredible. I’d dreamed of recording in the Sunset for as long as I could remember. He had taken one of my daydreams and made it real. As a result, all of my other daydreams—sold out arena tours, platinum albums, making a legitimate career for our band—didn’t seem so unrealistic.
Then I got the letter.
I had applied to NYU on a whim. They had an incredible music department and a long, proud heritage that commanded respect. I hadn’t expected anything to come from it. I wasn’t even sure if my dad could afford to send me to a school like NYU. On the daydream scale, it was in the same league as that arena tour. I had applied so I could tell my dad I had, that was pretty much it.
I guess the admissions department at NYU saw something in my application that I didn’t. They invited me for an interview. I read the letter with my heart in my throat, but it sank right to my toes when I saw the date of my interview.
The interview was arranged for the same Saturday I was supposed to be in LA with the band, recording our debut EP at a world famous studio.
I called NYU as soon as I could, and asked them if I could re-arrange. The answer was decidedly less positive than the original letter. They couldn’t—or wouldn’t—re-arrange my interview. Just like that, both of my futures were laid before me, demanding a choice I wasn’t sure I could make.
I needed advice. I considered talking to my aunt Rose, but it was highly likely she’d tell my dad. There was no way I could tell my dad. He knew the history of the Sunset, knew how much it would mean to me, but as far as he was concerned, there was nothing more important than my education.
Usually, I’d go to Jess. She wasn’t just smart, she was wise in a way that led to most adults claiming she was an old soul. She’d been my compass in nearly every confusing situation I’d come across in my limited life experience. I don’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her—it seemed too big somehow, beyond both of us.
Jude arrived within fifteen minutes of my text asking him to swing by the shop as I was closing up. The nights were getting long again. Spring had put Winter in the rear view. Summer was fast approaching, the beginning of something and the end of everything else.
“What’s up?” he asked, frowning as soon as he entered the darkened shop.
I’d just finished putting the new release stock on the shelves. We were due to leave for LA in four days. Or I was due to go to my first college interview in four days. Either way, the clock was ticking, and I was entirely unprepared for either situation.
I slid the NYU letter across the counter, without saying a word. I didn’t want to influence his advice. I wanted to know what he thought I should do, not what he thought I wanted to hear. I watched, breathless, as his jewel bright eyes scanned the neatly printed words. They widened a fraction when he reached the interview date.
“So this is why you’ve been jittery,” he said as he put the letter back down on the countertop. “This is amazing, Jack. I’m so proud of you.”
He sounded sincere. One quick glance at him confirmed my suspicions—he meant it. He was proud of me. I couldn’t help but smile at him. I had expected him to be a little angry, or at least frustrated that his carefully constructed plans were in jeopardy.
“Really?”
“NYU is a great school, and they’d be lucky to have you,” he replied with a soft, warm smile. “Are you going to go?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted with a sigh.
He nodded, climbing up onto the countertop. I was sitting on the stool behind it, so he swung his legs round, bracketing me with his knees. I rested my hands on his thighs, his skinny jeans rasping under my palms.
“When I said I would follow you anywhere, I meant it,” he said, pushing my hair away from my face. “NYU, LA, wherever you want.”
“What do you want, Jude? This isn’t just about me.”
“I want to be with you.”
“And that’s it?” I couldn’t believe there was nothing else he wanted from his life. He’d travelled the world, gone to some of the finest schools, spent time with people who would go on to become politicians, doctors and lawyers. How could he settle for a small town guitarist?
“What else is there?” he asked, shrugging. “This is your choice, Jack. I’m honored that you want to include me, really, but you need to focus on yourself for a change. Stop worrying about what I want, or what your dad wants, or what the band wants. What do you want?”
I gazed up at him. He was having one of those impossibly beautiful moments, the sight of him burned into my brain. The sun streaked his hair with liquid gold, while his big blue eyes glittered with affection. He was flawless, from the quirk in his brow to the Italian leather boots on his feet.
He was what I wanted, too.
“Let’s go to LA,” I replied on a shaky exhale.
“Do you mean it?” he asked, his tone completely even. His face didn’t give anything away.
“College isn’t going anywhere,” I explained. “But whatever is happening with our band . . . it’s happening now. The pieces have fallen into place now. If it all falls apart somewhere down the line, well, college is still going to be there.”
He nodded, leaning in to kiss me. I slid my hands up his back, tracing the sweep of his shoulder blades with my shaking hands. I knew I had made the right choice. I didn’t need him to agree with me (although I knew he did). He trusted me to make the decision, and it turns out that was all I needed.
***
Los Angeles was everything I thought it would be.
I’d been in cities before, but I was a small town kid at heart. Everything in LA was bigger, brighter and louder than I’d expected. The people were beautiful, from their perfectly styled hair to their pedicured feet. JJ and I walked the bustling streets hand in hand, anonymous among the masses. It felt good just to hold his hand in public, something so simple that meant so much. He was beaming by the time we reached the Sunset, completely at ease in the big city.
I’m not sure I believe in heaven, but if I did, it would look like The Sunset. Every inch of the studio was flawless, from the long corridor lined with framed album covers to the band room with its uneven wooden floor and elaborate rugs. I could have spent hours just walking around, staring at everything like the fan boy I obviously was.
The receptionist, Kelly, introduced us to Archie. Archie was a cross between a British punk and a Californian surfer, his unruly blond hair at complete odds with his clipped English accent. He was going to produce our EP, forgoing two dates and a “brilliant” party he’d been invited to so he could spend the weekend with us.
“JJ sent me some rough cuts,” he explained when Jess asked him why he was going to work on our EP. “You kids really have something.”
It didn’t take long for us to set up. JJ had bought his Hummingbird and sat down to tune it, while I snapped a picture or two. In the low light of the studio, he looked like he’d escaped my wildest dreams. I was able to pull myself away from him long enough to tune my own guitar, while Ash, Dylan and Jess set up in the band room.
We played the five songs we’d decided to put on the EP in the band room, at Archie’s request. He sat in a corner, brow furrowed in concentration, his tongue sticking out ever so slightly. He gave us a few notes—drop this word from the chorus, tighten this riff—but I could tell he was impressed.
Within ninety minutes of arriving in the studio, we were recording. I sat with Archie at the console while JJ recorded his vocals. Jess took lots of photos, stopping to show them to me on the little screen. I couldn’t believe how comfortable JJ was in t
he booth, his face tilted to the microphone like a flower reaching for the sun.
Friday night melted into the early hours of Saturday morning. I didn’t even notice, I was so caught up in the recording process. JJ was a great singer, I had no doubt, but Archie was a perfectionist. As it turns out, perfection never occurs on Take One.
We sat on the roof of the studio to watch the sunrise, JJ’s back to my chest. Ash, Dylan and Jess sat with us, exhausted but thrilled with how the day had gone. It was all too surreal—the city buzzing beneath us while the dawn streaked across the sky, my gorgeous boyfriend in my arms and my best friends around me. It was beautiful and endless, the city and the new day stretching out in front of us.
I knew I had made the right choice. College and my dad’s expectations felt like a world away, a different life that had never really been mine.
We went back to the hotel to try to get some sleep. Our rooms were together on the fourth floor, side by side along a quiet hallway. Jess trudged into her room with a tired wave. Dylan was in the room beside her, then Ash. My room was between Ash’s and JJ’s. I kissed JJ goodbye, head spinning as I stepped into my room.
We were back in the studio by midday, refreshed, but nervous as hell. It was my turn to start tracking, and it took me an hour or so to really get in to it. I could feel Archie’s critical gaze on me, my shoulders tensing every time I glanced up at him. I hadn’t really thought about the possibility that I’d just crumble under the pressure, it was too horrible to consider, but there I was, crumbling.
“Jack,” JJ said over the intercom, his eyes blazing when they met mine. “You got this. You know this song inside out. It’s yours. It’s ours. Just play it like you would in your room, just the two of us, okay?”
It was stupid—I didn’t have the imagination to block out the glittering equipment, couldn’t pretend I was anywhere but right in the middle of a legendary recording studio—but it worked. I held JJ’s gaze, a smile ghosting over his lips when I managed to do a run through of “Concepts” without faltering once.
We stopped recording just before 7 pm, so JJ could go to dinner with his dad. Jess, Ash, Dylan and I had dinner at our hotel, marveling over the elaborately carved silver cutlery while pretending we were completely at home among so much luxury.
Fake It (The Keswick Chronicles Book 1) Page 14