When It Rains I Disappear (WIP)

part 2

"You need to get over her, man," Gerard said to Frank while exhaling a stream of smoke lazily  from his mouth. Frank shielded his eyes from the glare of the bright Californian sun with his hand, and a frown tugged on the corners of his thin mouth. 

"I am over her," Frank retorted in a slightly defensive voice.

Deep down, the 24 year old knew the older, dark haired man was right. He had been moping over Jamia for weeks now. It had been impacting their practice and recording sessions, and putting everyone around him in a miserable mood. Normally, lighthearted Frank brought the room to life with his bright and energetic personality, but lately had been all doom and gloom. 

"Wanna creep in on their session?" Gerard nodded to the back entrance of the studio doors. The two New Jersey boys had magically screwed up the times for rehearsal and had arrived at the studio 2 hours earlier than planned. At the older man's suggestion, Frank hesitated. He knew that the people were teenagers in here. Fuck, there were even some rumours going around that the vocalist was 15 or something. Surely nothing that Frank would ever listen to, or would want to be associated with. "Little, immature punks," the thought crossed his mind. Of course, Frank had been in various bands, especially punk bands though out his young adult life, and part of his teenage years as well, but it wasn't like he walked around expecting everyone to worship him like the sun shined out from his ass. 

His hazel-green eyes locked with Gerard's for a few seconds. An awkward - to Frank - silence hung between the two men for a few seconds, only broken by Frank's reluctant nod of agreement. "Okay, fine, but if they're shitty then I'm not sticking around and I will be leaving."

"Fine!" Gerard said cheerfully, and Frank assumed that the other male was just relieved to get out of the hot, bright sun as the 29 year old was decked out in his usual head-to-toe shade of choice - black - including black sunglasses, which made his skin look oddly pale.

Frank reached out and snatched the sunglasses from his best friend's face, and placed them on his own to cover up his eyes. "Let's go." 

The two men walked down the back alleyway until they reached the heavy metal door. Gerard reached out and tugged hard on the metal handle, pulling open the door, and he stepped back a bit to allow Frank to take the first steps into the recording studio. The younger man left the sunglasses on his face as he headed slowly down the hallway. The studio wasn't a large one, but at least it was brightly lit, and clean, and had things like air conditioning and heating. Not that it mattered with the 90 degree plus weather outside. It wasn't like when they recorded their music back in Jersey in the cold. The two men had only passed a few doors before they could hear the distant noise of guitars playing and someone doing a basic beat on a drum set. "This could be cool," Frank heard Gerard speak, his voice echoing a little in the white hallway. 

"Or it could be stupid as fuck," Frank didn't voice the thought. 

Gerard and Frank pushed through a door that the music seemed to be coming from, and found themselves in the back of a sound booth. Technicians and producers were sitting around, most with headphones on, looking intensity at a soundboard covered in lights and buttons and switches. The two musicians creeped along in the back and found seats where they could remain inconspicuous. Frank's ears perked up when he heard the sound a cheery voice laughing, and he peered through the glass window. Immediately his eyes locked on to the brightest coloured thing in the room. It took the 24 year old a second or two to realize that the bright flame-coloured thing was actually some young girl's hair. "Well at least she's got cool hair," he thought idly. It sounded like the band had just gotten back from a small break, and Frank eyed the guitarists and drummer with no real interest. Anticipation rose up inside of him, despite the fact that he knew that whoever this band was, it wasn't going to sound that  great. Amateurs. 

The young girl, who appeared to be around 16 years old, or maybe 17, was tugging on a pair of those big black headphones that covered up both of her ears. The guitarists had finished tuning their instruments, and the drummer was tapping out a light, simple beat to amuse himself. The girl nodded, and the drummer counted to three, as cliched as normal. The guitars played a simple intro melody. Then the girl stepped up to her microphone and started singing softly into it, her voice slowly growing a little with volume along with the instruments. Her voice sounded simple, a bit plain to be honest, but it felt genuine to Frank, which shocked him. She did sound like a natural, and it felt effortless, although Frank was sure that it really wasn't as easy as she made it seem to be. The guitars and drums were simple, but catchy, leaving the rest to the vocals, which where clean and clear. Soothing in a way.  

"Okay, you're right," Frank leaned over and whispered in Gerard's ear, his eyes unable to pull away from the redhead on the other side of the glass. 

"Right about what?" Gerard whispered back, looking questioningly at Frank, which the 24 year old missed because he wasn't looking at his best friend.

Frank chuckled, and finally pulled his eyes away from the unknown band, locking them with Gerard's hazel-green eyes. "They, that band, they're actually pretty cool."