Waiting for the Night [Dalan]

Chapter 6

The recording studio was only a ten-minute drive from his home, not taking into account the horrific London traffic, and Alan reached the studio in a foul mood, already worried about Paris and pissed off about last night's session. At this rate, his album was going to take a million years to finish. Parking his car, he nodded to Freddie the security guard and trudged up the stairs to the studio on the second floor. From outside, he could already hear low chatter and Flood's muffled laughter, and in spite of the black cloud looming over his head, he couldn't help smiling to himself. He loved the studio, loved the people he worked with.

He let himself in, waving to Flood and Johnny Kessler, who had dropped by for a visit. "Wilder! You old son of a gun!" Johnny laughed as he hugged Alan tightly. "How's that album of yours comin' along? When are you gonna release the damn thing?"

"Soon, soon." Alan ran a hand through his already tousled hair. "Jesus, I just couldn't get some of it right last night-" He trailed off as both Johnny and Flood rolled their eyes in unison. "What?"

"Charlie, Charlie, Charlie." Johnny wrapped an arm around his shoulder in confidence. "You're too much of a perfectionist, man. You gotta give it some slack, you know?"

"I have to agree," Flood added. "Sometimes you're your own worst enemy, mate."

Alan sighed. "It's ready. I mean, at least it's 99% ready."

"Fantastic." Johnny was rubbing his hands in glee. "I'm gonna get the wheels moving for you, my friend. I'll get a good PR and marketing team, talk to my friend at that indie label I was telling ya about, then I'll get you a cover artist. You haven't done your album cover, right?"

"No, I've been too preoccupied with the actual album to worry about the album art," Alan said.

"You'll be amazed at how instrumental it is, that's all I'm sayin', you know?" Johnny was heartily patting him on the back. "I gotta get going, but I'll keep you updated on everything, okay?"

"Alright, Kessler, take care of that fine arse of yours."

Johnny happily wiggled his bum for the two groaning men before the door swung shut after his departure. "Uh, I could have done without that." Flood took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "Hey, I thought the album was already finished? Why were you still working on it last night?"

"Ugh, that guitar solo thing I was telling you about just sounded wrong, you know. I'll have to re-record it."

Flood lifted an eyebrow at him. "If that's the case, you'd better get another guitarist because Manuel's already gone back to Spain."

"Shit. I'll put out an ad in the paper, then. Don't want to drag it out any longer." Alan suddenly felt really tired. "You know, I think I need a break."

"Well said." Flood put on his glasses again, smiling at Alan. "Don't let it consume you, yeah?"

Alan had a feeling that Flood was talking about more than just the album, but it wasn't a topic he wanted to explore just now. "Yeah, I know. Let's try and get as much done as we can today, I have a date with a very pretty lady in about six hours."

"Oh, ho!" Flood wiggled his eyebrows. "You're going on an actual date? At last! Who's the lucky bird?"

Alan smirked. "Her name is Paris, and she dances on the sand..." he sang tauntingly, laughing at his friend's expression.

The disappointment on Flood's face was obvious. "Hey, no fair, you tricked me!"