December 24th [COMPLETED]

5. Writing Camp

George was having a hard remembering the last time she had traveled alone. It must have been before she signed with Concept before she hired Sydney back on full-time. It was strange, moving through a sea of commuting bodies, alone, with just a backpack and a guitar case. It was simpler, being by herself, without all her tech, easier to wind her way through the crowd at LAX airport and reach her commuter flight.

The difference hit George as she stepped out into the blinding sun of a hot Palm Springs afternoon in early spring. There was no car there waiting for her and Sydney wasn't by her side, directing her where to go. George had to label the feeling in her stomach as freedom and independence because her brain would label it as lonely if left unchecked.

George hailed a passing cab and climbed into the back when it stopped in front of her. She read off the address of the house she was expected at and the cab left the airport behind. She had done it. All by herself.
She felt like a fool, a child, who needed someone to remember the addresses to places, who needed someone to have a car waiting for her. But the thought of traveling the world, with everything she needed in tow while trying to negotiate projects, George remembered that Sydney was there to make sure George did the best job she could and not have to worry about little things like addresses.

George made a point not to bring work along with her. She had enough work that it probably would have been a good idea to bring at least some with her but that was the point of the next four days. She was in town to write, to test her newfound skills as a songwriter, to see how far she could go.

George had agreed to the writing camp faster than Julien had expected her to but George had been on the road for almost a year straight and a week in a nice house in sleepy Palm Springs writing with ten other people sounded like a vacation compared to touring.

The cab pulled up in front of the house, not able to meet the curb as a long line of cars were parked there. That was a good sign. George had remembered the right address. Sydney's constant quizzing while she had been packing had worked.

A tall wall encircled the large property and George found the wooden gate leading inside unlocked. She spotted the pool first, blue amid a sea of tan and brown gravel with succulents bringing in a pop of color. Next came the house with its array of tall glass windows for walls and white modern design. The front door swung open with a light push and George entered to find a sunken living room with a group of adults already hard at work.
There were more instruments than people and mostly acoustic guitars circling the large brown grand piano that sat in the center of the room. George's hand readjusted itself on the handle of her guitar case, her cherry red Gibson electric guitar already out of place while still in its case.

No one looked up as George entered. They hadn't formed groups yet, from what George could see, but they were all chatting rather intently. And all of them were at least ten years older than George. She could feel the age difference hanging in the air.
Looking around for someone in charge, someone to tell her what to do, George was saved from her confusion when two men entered the room from the outside and one of them called her name.

"Georgie! Finally!"

George's small ebbing anxiety melted away as that oh-so-familiar head of black curls and black ground glasses approached her, his smile just as wide as hers grew to be. George dropped her bag just in time to wrap an arm around Anton as he did the same. She could feel people looking as Anton Kaufman embraced a young twenty-year-old socialite like a good friend.

George, in that instant, gave up caring what the other writers in the room might think of her. She had Anton and it had been too long since they had last seen each other.

"It's good to see you, kid! Gosh, it's been too long! When was the last time we were in the same place at the same time?" Anton asked.

"Probably New York. I haven't been back since I got signed. It's so good to see you, man. Thank you so much for inviting me here."