The Paper Kingdom

Chapter II: But Yes, Him

jessie
The drum set in the back of the room was practically calling my name. It was a good-quality kit; I was used to playing on my pawn-shop worthy set that wouldn't last long in a decent band.

I sat at the stool and played a progression I had written. It didn't sound very good because my hands were shaking as violently as a California earthquake. I had thought the guys were doing what they needed to be doing, not listening to me. But I was dead wrong. Four pairs of eyes were glued to me, eight ears listening close.

"Told you she was good," said Frank triumphantly.

"Good?" Mikey smiled. "I'd say fantastic."

"Yeah," Ray agreed. "I'm sure I'm speaking for everyone when I say that we're lucky to have you while Matt's out."

I wasn't so sure he was speaking for Gerard though. His stone cold face was emotionless. I couldn't tell what he thought. He seemed puzzled, which tripped me up even more.

No one prodded him for a response. Ray, Mikey, and Frank went about turning, and Gerard just shut himself in the small soundproof room. I could see his mouth moving, which could only mean he was doing some sort of vocal warmup.

Ray came over to me once he had finished with his guitar and played a track of something they were working on. I couldn't help but grin as I heard it; it was only instrumentals but it sounded amazing. I nodded my head to the beat, already having a rhythm in my ear.

As the song wrapped up, Ray smiled. "So what did you think?"

"It's perfect," I said, smiling. My nerves had already somewhat gone away. I was confident about being able to handle this project. "I've already thought of something that could go along with this. Nothing elaborate."

"Damn, Frank," he called over his shoulder. "I wish I had a cousin like this. Mine's like a lawyer."

Frank smiled in amused disbelief. "Like a lawyer? Ray, your cousin's in prison."

Ray chucked silently. I noticed Ray had a nice smile. Pretty teeth.

"Alright, guys, let's get to work," Mikey sighed at last. Turning to me, he added, "A-and girl."

"Just come in when you're ready," Frank said. "No rush."

I nodded as I readjusted my position on the small leather seat. Ray counted us off.

A riveting chorus of the three guitars shook the room. I was almost lost in the music when I realized I should be playing.

I tentatively tapped my foot, pounding the bass drum. A few bars later, I was hitting the snares and hi-hats in time so that they intertwined with each other, meshing with the rhythms the guys were playing.

The song ended and I wasn't prepared to stop right then, so I carried over for another couple of beats before I stopped. My face must have gone really red, because Frank offered some support.

"Don't worry," he said. "You don't know the song well."

Mikey agreed. "We all have some cleaning up to do, yeah? Let's play it again before Gerard is done."

We did just that. This time, I stopped at the right place but messed up at the end, even though I was improvising, so there wasn't anything set to mess up.

Gerard noticed we were finished with that, so he sauntered out. "I have something ready. Do you?" he asked us, directing the question to everyone but me. He flashed a paper, but took it away before I could read the title.

Frank took him aside. They whisper-argued back and forth for a while until Gerard smiled and my cousin threw his hands up in defeat.

"Fine, you stubborn bastard!" he said. "Let's just do this."