Chapter Three
My heart almost bursts through my chest, here we go again. Pushing on the sleek black doors of the biggest recording studio in town, I hold my breath and march through the entrance. I bypass the reception desk and slip into one of the smaller recording studio's on the ground level.
As I walk inside, I see Jason and another girl already mucking around with buttons on the sound board. Their laughter consumes the room which makes me feel like an awkward outsider.
Before Jason and I had unofficially started seeing each other, we'd originally met through a mutual interest of music. He'd signed me to his new imprint for Silver Bird Recordings and things just went from there. Now we're not even talking.
"Finally, you're here," he grumbles, the girl laughing.
The sound of her laughter is the same as the girl who was in the background of our previous phone call. I can't believe I was naive enough to believe I'd be able maintain a relationship with my producer and things turn out okay. I'd only been a shiny thing by his side, now just another person he's tossed aside.
"Sorry," I mumble, looking towards the ground.
"I need to hear the new work before recording starts next week. Can you play an acoustic set in the booth?"
"Sure." I nod my head.
Walking through the glass door of the booth, I take a seat on the stool and pick up the guitar already set up. I strum my fingers over the strings and lightly hum to the sound. I'd been composing my last song before I'd lost track of time. Hopefully, this will pay off.
"You claw beneath my skin, waiting to tear a piece. I shouldn't have let you in, but I loved you like nobody else," I sing. "If we hold on tight, we'll never know how this ends."
I pick up the tempo on the tune and knock against the wooden base of the guitar to create a new melody of music. Nodding my head from side to side, I sing the next part.
"I watched you fall into this little heart of mine. Piece by piece, we threw it away. Just a sound on repeat, a meaning to get lost."
The speaker above turns on and Jason's voice filters through, "Just stop, this is horrible."
"Sorry." I bite my lip. "Can I play you another song?" I look through the clear window between us to see him shake his head with disgust.
"That's all I need to hear."
"What can I change?" Jason has won a variety of awards for his music, he must know how I'm able to fix the song.
"The lack of narrative needs to be fixed. The pacing is off and you're singing out of tune, go home and work on something else," says Jason, which makes the girl next to him laugh uncontrollably.
"Do you have any suggestions?" I ask.
"Go home and write a proper song, then come back and we'll work on it." The speaker shuts off, silencing my chance to respond. I place the guitar on the stand and walk out of the booth. As I look in Jason's direction, I notice he's turned his back but the girl is looking at me with a confronting hard gaze.
Without saying goodbye, I walk out of the studio and head home. The walk is horrible, cold, and provides too much time to think. Jason had said he'd always loved my music, but I guess he's never liked it to begin with. I didn't know my songs were that terrible? And my singing? I shouldn't have stayed up performing, I should have gotten some sleep.
Relief courses through my body when I make it back to my apartment. I walk past the kitchen and flop on my unmade bed. Snuggling under the covers, I cuddled my cold squished pillow. It doesn't feel comfortable, but it's better than anything else right now.
Just as I find myself drifting to sleep, the doorbell rings. Springing out of bed, I rush out of the bedroom and through to the open living space. As I swing the door open, I find a mysterious brooding Kol standing before me.
"Kol?" I ask. "What are you doing here?" Crossing my arms against my chest, I slump against the side of the doorframe.
"You ordered me, remember?" He holds up a stack of papers with the service name printed in bold. My face immediately turns bright red. Out of the whole service, I get Kol. Is that bad of me to feel excited? Annalise is going to be so jealous when she finds out who I've ended up with.
"Right, sure. Come in." I smile.
"We just need to go over the terms and conditions, then everything is set," he explains. "Is there somewhere we can sit?" He looks around my tiny apartment, probably noting the lack of space.
"How's the kitchen bench?" I ask.
"Sure." I follow Kol to the kitchen bench. He lays out the paper and goes through the process of the service. Talking about it makes my stomach queasy and I'm left second guessing myself. If I sign away on that dotted line, I've officially paid someone to cuddle me. That's probably the saddest thing I've done, and yes, that beats watching The Notebook on loop while eating chocolate.
When I've agreed to everything, I sign on the dotted line and pass the contract back to Kol.
"Do you want to start now?" he asks.
"It that what usually happens?"
"Depends on the client," he quickly responds.
"Client or clients?" I ask, curious about how far along his line of work is. This certainly explains why Natalie has seen him hanging around with a few different girls. Finding out he's a professional cuddler and not the town playboy is rather refreshing.
"Clients." Kol stiffly nods his head.
The word clients has my head spinning. I feel like I've just hired a male prostitute to cuddle me. It might disclose those type of relationships aren't allowed, but I bet they happen. I wonder if Kol's ever done something like that.
"I'm just going to grab something to eat," I say.
"Okay." He nods his head.
"The bedroom is just through that door." I point to the half-closed wooden door. As Kol walks into the room, I definitely feel like I've just hired a prostitute. What did Annalise get me into?
Shaking that thought out of my head, I quickly munch on apple and head inside.
Kol is sprawled across the bed with his arms tucked behind his head. I walk around the side of the bed and sit next to him. My stomach knots uncomfortably as I try to make this work. So far my cold pillow feels more comfortable.
"Relax." He half-laughs.
"I don't know how," I admit.
Kol sits up and tells me to face the wall. His hands press against my back, lightly massaging the skin. I instantly slump forwards and enjoy the feeling of his roaming hands.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Much." I nod my head.
Kol lays back on the bed and opens his arms. I awkwardly lay down and press my head against his chest. He wraps his arms around my body and continues to run his fingers over the back of my shirt.
My body is tense, which makes my limbs hurt. I take a deep breath, willing myself to enjoy this experience. My cheek warms up from the warmth radiating from his chest and his even breathing calms me down.
Slowly, I relax in his arms. My legs remain stiff, but I can feel myself easing into the experience.
"How was your day, Lola?"
The question makes me freeze again. Ugh. My day. Well, I wish there was a restart button so that I could undo Jason from my past.
"You don't have to answer," he says, noticing my stiff posture.
"Just a bad day, you?"
"Busy." The conversation dies and we're left with the sound of our breathing. His chest rises and falls, which sends me to a sleepy state. From the lack of sleep, I once again feel myself drifting to sleep in Kol's arm.
I wake to a dark room, warm arms still wrapped around me. Slowly, I slide out of Kol's arms and walk out of the bedroom to the piano tucked away in the lounge room space. Jason's words swirl through my mind. It hurts. If he thinks I can do better, I must.
My apartment isn't big, I might as well live in a shoe box, but even in that, I'd still put my piano somewhere. Running my fingers over the keys, I pick up an older pop tune I've been working on.
Jason wants me to write something that will appeal to the masses, how I'm going to do that, I don't know.
"How are you, how are you, how are you doing?" I sing. "I saw you standing at the back of the club." As soon as those words come out, I bang my head on the keys which produces an odd noise. I can't for the life of me write about something stupid and meaningless.
"Oh, my poor tortured soul. What will we do with you?" I sing, banging my hands on the keys for a dramatic effect.
I hear the squeak of a door moving, which alerts me to Kol standing in the doorway of my bedroom.
"Sorry," I whisper, suddenly feeling guilty about the noise I've been making. I've spent so much time living by myself, I forget about the nose thing.
"Keep playing," he replies.
Turning back to my piano, I start playing the first tune that comes to mind. I peek over my shoulder to see Kol standing with his eyes close, attentively listening.
"Why do we lie to ourselves? Broken dreams at our feet, the promise of tomorrow is never enough," I sing.
After that first line, I stop and face him.
"Why are you playing this late in the night?" asks Kol.
"I need new material because my older stuff isn't cutting it, apparently." I frown at the thought of Jason.
"Who cares what people think," he offers, a stern expression crossing his face.
"Me," I reply.
"You shouldn't." He shakes his head.
"People say that a lot." I fold my arms across my chest defensively.
"What?" A half smirk crosses his lips.
"That you shouldn't worry what people say. I bet they worry more." It isn't easy to go against the flow, it takes courage and strength to bypass people and not everyone has it. Sometimes I also think a lot of those standards are really created by ourselves and we just blame society like everything else. We never own up to what we've done, it's easy that way.
People want to believe they've never done something wrong, that the world is never their problem. There's a different kind of strength needed to take ownership of your actions no matter how careless they are. But it seems with our growing generation that this strength is replaced with convenience. It's convenient to blame someone else.
"Really?" Kol walks towards me, his tall figure suddenly towering over my small frame. "What else do you think?" he encourages.
"A lot of things." I shrug my shoulders, not sure what else to add.
"You say a lot frequently," he notes with a smile.
"Oh, so we're doing that."
"What?"
"Noting each other's habits," I say.
"I find you interesting, Lola." The way he says it makes my heart race. I'm not sure if being an interesting person is something I would describe myself with. I'm not fit to indulge in the company of the cat. Instead I'm forced to pay someone to spend time with myself. I bet that's worse.
"Take note, Kol, there isn't anything interesting here."
I close the cover on my piano and stand up. Kol takes a step back so that I can walk past him. Heading into the kitchen, I turn on the light which instantly brightens up the space.
"What are you doing with your songs?"
Leaning against the kitchen bench, I look down and explain, "I was busking on the side of the road when I met Jason. Eventually, I ended up signing to his imprint where I hope to record my first album, but he's not happy with my work."
"That sounds exciting." He smiles.
"Yeah, I guess." I stand up and step away from the kitchen bench. It had been exciting until I'd been tossed to the side. Now I feel like I can't do anything right.
"What's the matter?"
"Jason and I dated for a short period. We did everything together. Went to events, worked, spend our free time together writing music, but now, I'm like a sour apple." The worse feeling is not knowing what I did to turn sour. Time was never an issue with us, we always had time.
"Do you know what you need?" His blue eyes light up with excitement.
If I knew that, I wouldn't be here talking to you, honestly.
"No." I shake my head.
"You need to have a drink and forget about him. Where do you keep your alcohol?"
"Are you allowed to drink on the job?" I question.
Kol looks at his phone and smiles, "My shift ended hours ago, Lola, so pour us a drink."
"Sure." Walking to the cupboard, I grab out a half-empty bottle of tequila and place it on the bench. I hunt around for shot glasses but end up using two drinking glasses instead.
Kol pours two large shots which makes me cringe.
"Do you want salt? I don't have lemon," I say.
"Nah." He shakes his head.
Drinking the large shot, I place the glass on the bench only to have it refilled.
"Is your aim to get me drunk?"
"Just a little." Winks Kol with laughter.
Three shots later and Kol's tucking me into bed.
"You don't need to leave," I slur.
"I'll see you later, Lola." I see Kol walk out the bedroom before everything fades to darkness. I think I've left a good impression on Kol.
Question: What do you like to do after a bad day (eating chocolate and Wattpad is mine).