Just A Notion

Chapter 7: The Empty Studio

Wednesday, 11th August, late morning.

     The next day, the studio felt quieter than usual. Björn sat at the piano, absentmindedly playing a soft melody, while Benny fiddled with the mixing board, his expression dark and brooding. Agnetha sat in her usual chair, tapping her fingers nervously against her knee as she glanced at the clock for the fifth time in ten minutes.

     Frida was late. Very late.

“Where is she?” Agnetha finally asked, her voice breaking the silence. She tried to keep her tone casual, but there was a faint edge of worry underneath.

     Benny looked up from the mixing board, his eyes sharp and accusing. “How should I know?” he muttered, his bitterness obvious.

     Agnetha shot him a look but didn’t respond. Björn glanced between them, sensing the tension but staying out of it. He cleared his throat softly. “It’s not like Frida to miss a session without saying anything,” he said.

     Agnetha nodded, her stomach twisting with unease. She reached for her bag and pulled out her phone. She’ll pick up, she told herself as she dialed Frida’s number.

     The line rang once. Twice. Three times.

     Come on, Frida, she thought, holding her breath.

But the call went to voicemail. Agnetha frowned and tried again. This time, it rang out even faster before the same automated message played. She lowered the phone slowly, the unease now growing into full-fledged dread. Something was wrong.

     “Still no answer?” Björn asked, his concern evident now.

     “No,” Agnetha replied, her voice tight. “She’s not picking up.”

“She’ll show up,” Benny said tersely, though there was little conviction in his tone. “She probably just needed to clear her head. Maybe you should leave her alone for once.”

     Agnetha froze, his words like a slap. She looked at him sharply. “Don’t start, Benny,” she snapped. “I know something’s wrong.”

     She stood abruptly, grabbing her coat and bag. “Where are you going?” Björn asked, watching her with confusion.

     “To Frida’s apartment,” Agnetha said firmly, already moving toward the door. Benny scoffed under his breath. “Of course you are.” Agnetha ignored him, her heart pounding as she left the studio and stepped out into the cold Stockholm air.

---

Frida’s Apartment

     The cab ride felt endless. Agnetha gripped her phone tightly in her hand, staring out the window as the buildings rushed past. Her mind was racing—What if she’s sick? What if something happened? Did she forget about our session today? But deep down, a sinking feeling told her that this was something worse.

     When the cab finally pulled up to Frida’s building, Agnetha didn’t wait for the driver to finish parking before she climbed out, hurrying to the entrance. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out the spare key Frida had given her weeks ago. For emergencies, Frida had said with a soft smile.