Hard Rock Muse by Athena Wright

Author:Athena Wright [Wright, Athena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-06T18:00:00+00:00

21

Julian and I hadn’t spoken since he’d run out. We hadn’t even exchanged texts. I had been hoping if I gave him some time and some space he would come to me on his own. I should have known it wouldn’t work like that with Julian.

I didn’t want to push him but I also wasn’t going to let him wallow in angst like I knew he was probably doing.

Normally, when Julian and I used to have trouble between us, I would go to Abby, he would go to Seth, and they would both set our heads straight.

But Julian was upset with Seth because of me, so he didn’t have anyone to turn to. Instead of having someone talk him down, he would just stew in his own misery and anger. I didn’t want to let that go on for too long.

I hadn’t intended on ambushing him at work, but Cerise had asked if we could talk about some ideas she had for the new album. She wanted to bounce things off someone who wasn’t so close to the project, to get a more objective eye.

I was overjoyed at the request. It meant Cerise held me in high enough regard to want my opinion. Maybe I did have a real future in the music industry once this songwriting gig was over.

Instead of meeting up at the Cherry Lips studio, Cerise gave me instructions to a location in the industrial part of town. I followed them and ended up pulling into a large warehouse that looked like it had been converted into a sort of artist’s commune.

Cerise met me at the doors, her dark cherry red hair falling over her shoulders in waves and her lips painted red. She looked every bit the rock goddess as she waved for me to come in. It made a small pang of sadness ring my chest. I remembered being that bad ass rock goddess. As much as I was trying to reinvent myself, I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t miss it.

“Thanks for making the trip,” Cerise said.

“No problem.”

I swung my head back and forth as she lead me through the warehouse. The inside had multiple rooms partitioned off, and as I peeked through their glass doors I saw what looked like a pottery studio, a small room with a printing press and a tiny art gallery.

Cerise opened the door to a room with multiple instruments set up, including guitars, a drum set, a keyboard and a full-sized piano. There was comfy looking furniture strewn about, armchairs and sofas and coffee tables, along with a mini fridge. It was like a living room had been taken over by a rock band.

“Let me guess,” I said. “This is where you guys jammed before hitting it big?”

“You got it.” She trailed a hand over one of the guitars with a fond smile. “We still pay the rent on the place, out of nostalgia more than anything, really. But when we’re stuck we sometimes like to come back to our roots.

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