Picture of Lyra over there -------------------------------------------->
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The next morning, I realised that Freddie had never given me a specific time to be at the studio. Come to think of it, I didn't even know where the studio they used was. I didn't even know which studio they used. How was I supposed to meet them?
Feeling like some kind of crazed Kick the Crown fangirl, I booted up my ancient laptop and waited for Google to fully load up. While I was waiting, I skipped into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. What should I wear to make an impression on the band? Now I really did sound like a fangirl. I pulled out my well-worn Freddie Mercury shirt and tucked it into a dark purple skater skirt. After scrunching my hair a bit to make it look a bit more wavy, I went back into the living room.
Placing the laptop onto my lap and sinking into the sofa, I Googled the band. Clicking on one of the scary band sites, I then clicked the 'Locations' sub-heading. A list of previous home addresses of the boys were there (which scared me) as was a list of every studio they had ever used. I noted the street of the one with 'CURRENT' typed next to it in red. I jotted the address on the back of my hand.
I clicked back onto the front page of the website, and saw a photo of my face was dominating the screen. It was a photo from ages ago, when I had gone to have a model-type photo shoot done with a bunch of girl mates. We all had to pose in a particular room of a make-shift house, and I got dumped with the bathroom. At first I had been disappointed because it wasn't very exciting, but in the end I liked the shot of myself looking away from the camera, like I was laughing, sat in the bathtub. I liked the photo, but didn't get why it was there until I scrolled down.
Lyra Watson, The heading underneath the photo screamed.
I read on, frowning as I went:
We all knew that KTC was looking for another singer, right? Well, say hello to the newest member of our favourite band. This is Lyra Watson, and our sources at Kick the Crown HQ tell us that she has recently been given that coveted position. I know what you're all thinking - When did they decide they wanted a girl?! This is not good.
Apparently she's good: As in, really good :But still - she is far too pretty to be allowed to work closely with the boys. I can totally see her breaking all of their hearts. Something we all need to stop. So, I suggest we see what she's like at one of their gigs. And then we decide whether to eliminate her or not, right?
I gulped. Eliminate her? These people were utterly crazy. I would never be able to walk down an empty street without feeling paranoid now. But at least they think I'm pretty.
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It was like torture again. I had decided that since I hadn't been given a time, I would show up at two o' clock in the afternoon. It seemed an OK time - not too early, not too late. And then I would explain when I got there that Freddie hadn't told me a time to arrive.
I just hoped I wouldn't be so early that they wouldn't be there when I arrived, and I would be stood waiting for ages. And I hoped I wouldn't be so late that they had already packed up and left by the time I got there.
Waiting in my flat was like torture. I wandered about, even used the vacuum from the cupboard to vacuum the carpets and sofa. Then I made my self some cheese on toast and chewed each bite thirty times. I was trying to get into the rock and roll way of life, but all I seemed to be doing so far was waiting around. This felt neither rock nor roll. In any way. And it was killing me.
At twelve o'clock, I sat down and tried to watch Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. But I just couldn't concentrate on the fight for the Wizarding world whilst watching the clock every second of every minute. In the end, I turned the film off just as Ginny and Harry finally kissed. Usually, it was one of my favourite films, and Ginny and Harry were one of my favourite fictional couples ever - but today, I just couldn't deal with sitting idly.
In the end, I slid my leather jacket on at half past one, and laced up my black Docs. I shoved a few notes into my pocket along with my phone and then locked the flat up behind me. It was still an OK time. Just a little earlier than I originally intended.
Stepping out of the apartment block, I stood teetering with excitement on the edge of the pavement and waved like a lunatic when I caught sight of the first taxi. It pulled up smoothly at the side of the sidewalk, and I hopped into the back and said, "Uh, Springbreak Studios, please."
The driver, an over-weight, balding middle-aged man in a checkered shirt, grunted and said, "That'll be expensive."
I shrugged. "Don't worry about it."
The drive took about forty minutes, and I was buzzing inside for the whole of it. I just couldn't contain my nerves or excitement - this was finally happening, and I felt more than ready for it. But, on the other side, I was nervous; what if the band didn't like me? What if I just didn't fit in with their style? Endless doubts clouded my mind, but I mentally wafted them aside. I wasn't one to let doubt or fear stop me from doing what I wanted. This would be no exception.
When we pulled up outside Springbreak Studios, I gulped. It was small on the outside, with peeling letters declaring the establishment as Springbreak Studios, and that it was insured and protected against thieves.
I thanked the taxi driver and handed over his fare before stepping out of the taxi. I looked up at the nondescript, faded building. This was rock and roll. This was a place where you had the freedom to create the first thing that came to mind. Freedom to do as you please without pleasing others.
William, eat your heart out, I thought, scathingly.
I entered via the rickety door and found myself in a shabby waiting area. It was a very square room, with two patched sofas in the bottom right corner, posters covering every inch of the left wall. A long desk was situated at the very top of the room, behind which was seated a bored looking twenty-something year old woman.
The woman had a swirling sleeve tattoo covering her right arm. I knew this because she was wearing a black lace bandeau with tiny denim shorts. Her legs were propped on the top of the desk and she was texting madly on her BlackBerry. Glinting in the cheap lights, her purple hair was weaved into a loose side plait. I liked her instantly.
"Lyra, Kick the Crown are in Studio 4." She said, pointing to a corridor leading off to the left. "You'll need to go down the stairs."
I was shocked that she knew my name, but went down the corridor she had indicated, saying, "Thank you." As I went.
The corridor was also peeling and dirty, but it was like I could feel that music had been made here. Like it breathed down the walls and floated from the yellow ceiling. Shivers ran up and down my arms, chills tingling my spine. I shuddered, closing my eyes and feeling the music.
I passed a number of doors - some looked like just normal offices for managers and stuff. But I also walked past three studios, each labelled with a large, plastic number. I jolted with excitement at the sight of them. Studio three was actually in use. I could hear music coming from behind the door and peeked through the glass pane in the door and saw a young man in the sound booth, evidently crooning away. I grinned. This was where I belonged.
The stairs were at the very end of the corridor, a rickety set of steps that led into darkness. I tenderly placed my foot on the first step, and when feeling that they were much sturdier than they looked, made my way down, down, down until the darkness swallowed me up. i found myself in another corridor - this one a dead end.
There were only two studios down here, the doors opposite each other. Studio 4 and 5. Music was pulsing through the door of number 4, and I hesitantly opened the door.
This studio was bigger than the one I had peered into upstairs. The sound booth was at the back, with all the mixing equipment and sound alteration systems. But before that, there was an area with a sofa, coffee table and general living room type items.
The guys were in the sound booth, another man sat at the equipment table. I instantly recognised the song as U2's With or Without You, and chills shivered through me once more.
That was nothing compared to what I felt when I heard Nate singing.
"See the stone set in your eyes..." He sang, his eyes closed. His voice was deep, rich and had just the right amount of raspiness. With is voice he promised me everything I had ever wanted - love, lust, the kind of passion that only comes from a tainted soul.
As he sang, "And you give yourself away," He seemed to screw his face up as though he were in pain, and feeling so high off of the music, I wanted to fall to my knees in despair. No one else should ever sing this song ever again, lest they tarnish the beautiful sense of purity that I was experiencing right at that moment.
"I can't live....with or without you..." Nate sang, and it was like he was begging me to stay, stay with him. I was seconds away from bursting out a 'Yes!'' When he opened his eyes and was looking straight at me.
I don't what it was, but I felt something at that moment. With his gorgeous brown eyes staring at me, I definitely felt something. Not exactly fireworks or instant attraction (though that was also there. I admit this.) and definitely not love at first sight. Just...something.
It was then that I noticed they had stopped playing. The room felt colder, and I shivered again.
"What are you doing here?" Nate snapped, his harsh tone instantly stopping whatever hold he'd just had on me.
I frowned. "I was told to meet you here, but you didn't give me a time, so I just...turned up." I refused to feel out of place. I was supposed to be here, and a snarly, moody singer was not going to ruin that.
Nate scowled. "Well, you're late, as it is. We started without you."
I shrugged. "Not my fault. Anyway, you sounded amazing." I tried to break the ice with a compliment.
"I know." Was all Nate said in reply.
Freddie glanced at me. "Better late than never! And I suppose its my fault for not telling you. So, we just want to see how you sound with Nate singing as well. Pick a song, any song."
I thought about it. "Lets continue the U2 theme you've got going on. How does Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For sound?"
"It sounds brilliant," Freddie said. "Get in here, girl!"
I grinned and pushed open the door to the sound booth. I saw that there was already a mic set up for me, to the left of Nate. I tried to avoid his intense gaze as I took my place.
"Lets do it." Nate said, and I could feel that he was still looking at me.
I closed my eyes as the first note resonated fantastically through both the booth and me. This was what it felt like, to be singing with a band who were so serious and a man who seemed to sing like an angel with all the fire of a devil.
I shivered again when I heard Nate sing, "I have climbed the highest mountains..."
I gripped my mic, loving the way the small booth made it feel like the music was all that mattered, the only thing people were here to see.
We continued the song, and I lost myself in a sort of trance, Nate's voice washing over me, Chris and Freddie's music strumming through my head. This was all I needed for the rest of my life.
When Nate sang, "It burned like fire....This burning desire." His voice stretched beautifully to fit around the raspiness, and I couldn't help but meet his eyes as goosebumps erupted on my arms. His gaze was fiery, fierce. And it was evident that some sort of battle was raging within him, evident in the way his voice took a turn for the best - the way his notes trailed off delicately but still sounding angry.
"You broke the bonds and ya loosed the chains," I sang, deciding to meet his talent with as much as I could give of my own. The result was pretty amazing - we sounded like a band to be taken seriously. A band that could take over the world, in my eyes.
"But I still haven't found what I'm looking for." We finished together, and I could feel an emotion waving away inside me - an emotion I don't think I had ever felt before that moment.
The music ended, and I broke away from Nate's gaze to look at the other guys. Freddie was grinning, and Chris gave me a thumbs up.
"Well," Nate began. "That didn't totally suck."