“Great,” Josh says, “I’ll get us set up.”
“Shouldn’t we take those rugs off the wall?” I say, pointing at the hippie accoutrements.
“No,” Haley says, sounding sure for the first time since I’ve seen her today, “leave them. They’ll make it sound warmer.” At my lifted brow she adds, “Helps the acoustics.”
I look at Josh, who gives me a look that says ‘the girl knows what she’s talking about,’ and settles into a seat as they both start preparing.
It takes Josh only a few minutes to get everything ready, sorting cables and arranging the studio with deft expertise. Once he’s done, and Haley is sitting on a stool in the recording booth, all mic’d up with the mahogany guitar in her lap and a big pair of headphones buried in her hair, Josh joins me on the other side of the glass partition.
“Haley,” Josh says, holding down a button, “can you hear me okay?”
Haley returns a thumbs up.
“Say something Haley, so I can check the levels.”
“Oh, um…hi? Uhh…”
The tremble in her voice doesn’t need the amplification of a studio to be noticeable. Josh just nods before pushing the button again to speak. He’s seen it all before, and I’m hoping his laid-back demeanor will help calm Haley down fast, because right now she can barely get a single word out, much less a whole song.
“That’s great, thanks,” Josh soothes. “Just strum a few chords now.”
Haley obliges keenly, her neck and shoulders looking tense. As she pauses to make some minor adjustments to the strings, the expression on her face tells me she’s frustrated. Even through the glass, I can feel the anxiety radiating off her.
“Okay, we’re golden,” Josh says. “When you’re ready to go, just start. We’re rolling.”
I watch intently as Haley breathes so deeply her shoulders rise and fall a full few inches. She grips the guitar carefully, straightens her back, and starts playing.
The second note she plays is an entire key out.
“Wait. I’m sorry,” Haley says, her shoulders immediately slumping. “Can I go again?”
This time I’m the one who pushes the button to talk.
“It’s fine, Haley. Make as many mistakes as you want. Take your time. Work out those kinks.”
After a few more failed attempts, her deep breaths getting deeper between each take, she eventually makes it through the intro, and starts singing.
Haley hits a bum note on the first word. She freezes mid-lyric and looks over at us guiltily. “Sorry. I need to start over,” she says.
“This her first time in a studio?” Josh asks me as we watch her go again.
“Second,” I say, as her voice falls flat again. “The first time she ran right back out of it.”
On her eleventh attempt Haley almost makes it to the second line of the song, but she plays the wrong chord and immediately drops her head.
“That’s fine, Haley,” Josh says. “Come on back here.”
“I’m really, really sorry,” Haley says the second she enters the room. “I don’t know what’s—”
“It’s fine,” I say, trying to smile, struggling to believe it. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Josh stands up.
“How about we take fifteen? Try and get our heads straight?” He pulls out a joint from his shirt pocket. “I’m gonna go outside and relax a little. Haley?”
Haley shakes her curls. “No thanks. I don’t.”
Josh nods at me – he knows I’ve always been clean – then leaves the studio. I spin in my chair, following Haley with my eyes as she walks across the room and slumps on the couch as if it’s a lifeboat.
“Jesus. I can’t believe this is happening,” she says, tapping her knee rapidly. “My one chance…”
“Hey,” I say, supportively, as I get out of my chair and settle beside her on the couch. “Just try to relax.”
“I am trying to relax. And it’s not working. Which is making me even more nervous.”
“Your hands are shaking,” I say, putting my palm over the hand she’s using to drum on her knee with.
“You should feel what my stomach’s doing,” she replies, continuing to drum with her other hand. “I need a drink. A sniff of whatever’s Josh is smoking. Or…”
She turns to face me, but her eyes scan my body like it’s the antidote to her nerves. Maybe it is. Nobody knows more than I do how much sex can cure a restless mind. She shakes her head, as if shooing off a daze, and looks down, avoiding my gaze.
I cup her chin and turn her to face me slowly.