It's Just Fiction

In a Flood

By mid autumn, the reunited musicians took the chance to get their work done before the rush of the holiday season. The October weather has brought winds and breezes, the crippling, crunchy leaves on the floor and bitter cold rains. Scarves and layers were put on before leaving the house and rain boots were worn in trade of summer sandals.

The expected eight hour work day had slowly surpassed, extending it to an additional hour and a half. The four who worked in the studio mixing, playing, or singing decided to push through it instead of facing the weather. The rain outside was pouring ceaselessly, and they had hoped waiting a while longer would do them good but that was not in their luck that day.

Agnetha and Frida were singing together, their voices like the perfect combination for a harmony. It was natural for them. Agnetha stopped singing the moment she felt a body behind her, leaning in to replace the sheet of music that she was going from. She couldn't mistake Björn. He scribbled on it, and though she tried to read what he wrote in blue pen, her mind forgot how to concentrate.

Frida immediately noticed her friend's cheeks blush, and the fluttering of her eyes. It had been so long since he had been that close to her. It was natural– casual. It was almost nothing, but it was enough to feel like everything she needed. The smell of him, the sound of him, and the warmth of his body had her gulping. She needed an escape, but she didn't want to. She fought the urge in her chest to turn in and nuzzle into him. Their relationship had been nothing more than coworkers who share children. They rarely saw one another. Rarely spoke to each other, besides at work, where they carried on professionally like they had in the past. The only way one heard about how the other is doing was by their children and their children's children.

"Got that? With this lyric, it should go—" she nodded, though he continued to sing it as best he could with that raspy voice. He looked into her eyes and found them so clear and striking. The pressure was too much, so Agnetha looked away and carried on. When he walked away, she shared a glance with Frida who was trying to silence her laughter because she knew the thoughts that ran through her friend's head. Agnetha rolled her eyes and threw the crumpled piece of paper at her when he turned away.

The moment the music began again and their voices hit the perfect note, just then, the lights in the entire studio blew out. They paused for a bit in silence, before they understood that wasn't a good thing.

"We didn't lose that, did we?"

"I don't know," Benny said sarcastically. "We're sitting in a pitch black studio. What do you think?" he laughed. "The system is off," Benny explained, pushing buttons that resulted in nothing.

"Shit," Björn grumbled. "But we cant have lost the recordings, they're saved. We save everything and have a back up."

"Luckily yes, but that new recording is gone."

"How are you doing in there?" Björn yelled to the girls.

"We're fine!" Frida said, still sitting, not caring to move. There was simply nothing to see. Agnetha on the other hand, decided to get out of the room. She needed light, before she would become claustrophobic. Taking a few steps, she made sure nothing was in front of her so that she doesn't walk into a door or a window, but what she didn't realize was the long black cord across the floor. Tripping over it, she fell to her knee.

"Ow!"

She cursed it, remembering exactly which one it was and how many times she had warned the boys to remove it or hide it with a rug.

"What was that?" Benny mumbled at the sound of Agnetha falling.

"Agnetha!" Frida called for her. She hurried off the stool and met Björn's arms trying to find her in the dark. "My goodness, are you fine?"