I woke up early the next morning and wandered down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and some breakfast. I sat out on the back deck overlooking our garden and enjoyed the warm morning air. As much as I tended to miss England, nothing could beat the amazing weather of LA.
After finishing up I quickly washed my dishes before heading upstairs to get ready for the day. I chose a simple off the shoulder shirt and some denim shorts before jumping in the shower. Once I was all finished I grabbed my laptop before going downstairs and sitting at the kitchen table, with another cup of coffee.
Over the course of the morning I worked on piecing together a new demo with some of my newer tracks. I was so engrossed in my work that I completely missed the knock at the door, only noticing Aston had arrived to pick me up when my phone started buzzing.
“Hello?” I said, answering it.
“Babe where you at? I’m at your house, well at least I think its your house, and no one is here.”
“What? I didn’t hear the door go, let me check…” I got up from my seat at the table and opened the front door to see Aston stood right in front of me with his phone to his ear.
“Classic Jess,” he said as he ended the call and then leant in to give me a kiss on my cheek. I could feel my cheeks burning, partly because I was embarrassed that I’d missed his knock, and partly because I was nervous about his closeness.
“So I’m not ready yet,” I started, “Lost track of the time and was busy working. Come on in and I’ll sort you a drink while I finish up.”
“Sure, take your time,” said Aston following me into my flat. He kicked off his shoes and went and sat at the kitchen table, near my laptop. “What you working on then?”
“Just fixing a demo,” I said while some water boiled for tea.
“Can I hear it?” he asked. I shrugged my shoulders and then walked over to my laptop, switching the first song on.
“I’m not done so its not perfect yet.”
“I’m sure its amazing,” said Aston.
While the music played I ran up to my room to grab my bag and some sandals, running a brush quickly through my hair and adding a touch of mascara to my eyelashes. Returning to the kitchen I saw Aston where I’d left him, just sitting there listening to the music.
“You ready?” I asked, ready to turn off my laptop.
“No wait,” he said, “I want to hear the rest of it.”
I just stared at him for a second before nodding my head and slouching into the seat next to him. For the next twenty minutes we sat there and listened to my demo, before it abruptly ended.
“And that’s where I left off,” I said, pulling my laptop towards me and switching it off.
“Jess, it’s amazing,” Aston said. “Truly. Your sound has really developed. I can’t believe it.”
“Thanks,” I said shyly.
“You should be really proud of yourself,” added Aston. “You obviously took advantage of your time at Mosley to learn the business and create your own sound. That’s hard to do and you’ve really managed to succeed. You’re going to do big things in this industry yet.”
I could feel tears prickling my eyes, happy tears. He was being so nice, I couldn’t help it. “You ready to go?” I asked, changing the subject in an effort to stay composed.
“Sure,” he said standing up. Quickly I put our cups in the sink while he got his shoes on and then we were out the door and into his rental car. It was a fancy sports car, typical Aston. I directed him towards a nearby mall that had all of the sorts of stores that Aston had mentioned he wanted to find, and while we drove the radio played away in the background.
“I like this song,” said Aston turning the radio up when a particularly dancy song came on over one of the local radio stations. “Do you know who the band is?”
I named the band off to him, before asserting that they don’t normally sound that dancy.
“Oh,” said Aston, “Whys this song like this then?”
“Because the producer did it up like this to make them a bit more marketable,” I replied. “They’re a one-hit wonder.”
“Ah,” said Aston. “And you know this because…”
“…I produced it,” I smirked. “They’re awful,” I added. “I had to use all sorts of production tricks to make them sound like this. But they put up a ton of money to the company so I couldn’t not make the track…”
We both giggled at this before Aston posed one final question, “Do you like hearing your stuff on the radio?”
“Do you?” I retorted.
“Yeah…” he said. “Makes me feel like what I’m doing matters! That people are actually listening to the music that I put so much of myself into.”
“I feel that way too. It’s all about the music for me,” I finished wistfully as we pulled up at the mall.
