Magic's Mark

Chapter 19

"Neither are you," I replied icely. Puling my wrist away from his grip and rushing for my front door.

~*~

A smell similar to a boys locker room hit my face as a I opened the door to the reherasal studio. I pulled my camera strap higher up on my shoulder and stepped in, last time I had been here must have been six moths ago.

"Cara!" James shouted happily and dropped the microphone to the floor.

"Hey," I greeted him.

"I was so surprised to see your email. I thought you had forgotten about us," he smiled.

I waved gently to the other two guys, who were playing with a loop pedal in the corner.

"I just wanted to catch up and see if you needed some press pictures." I pulled the camera strap further up on my shoulder.

"We definitely do, we have been using the ones from the tour for ages."

I smiled back at him, remembering the tour and how it had not only given me but their band much needed exposure.

He held up a t-shirt with 'Amazing Eight' printed across the front, "Do you think it's too on the nose if I wear our own merch?"

"Better than the sweaty T-shirt you are wearing now," I teased back and pulled my camera.

"Get with it guys," I shouted at the other two, who reluctantly stepped away from the loop pedal.

"Let's just do a few shots, easy and spontaneous," I encouraged.

The guys where joking and playing around, half posing half trying to act like they didn't care. I focused my lens, snapping another photo. This could have been Josh's band. Click. If he just had focused more on music than money. Click. I can't believe he's still feels hurt. Click. Typical him, blaming everyone else.

I paused for a second, suddenly feeling drained of all of my excitement from catching up with Amazing Eight.

"Why don't we leave the guys to their loop pedal?" James suggested.

"Sure. We should set up a formal shoot anyway, when you are not all sweaty and stinky," I replied, trying to sound carefree.

The cold air of the courtyard felt crystal clear after the smelliness of the damp rehearsal room.

"Why do you guys not air it out more often?"

James shrugged his shoulder, "What's the point?"

He was such a typical musician.

"So what's going on with you?" he sat down on one of the steps of the entrance.

"I don't know," I lent my back against the wall.

"Photography going good?" he asked gently.

"It is. It's just hard to stay focused when there is so much going on around me."

"I know what you mean. After the tour, I thought we had it made. Opening for a big act like that. But turns out it's a longer road than what I thought to be successful."

I looked at him, I felt like he had just describe my last six months. In a way, I had secretly hoped when emailing him that their careers had taken off more. I had hoped that coming here and hearing them talk about how well everything was going for them would help me feel motivated.

"So how do we even know that we'll succeed?" I bit my lip.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I don't think there's any point of worrying about it."