All Six Strings

Where Do We Go Now?

Chris stood twisting her drum sticks in her hands and staring through the studio window at the empty producer's chair. Blake paced up and down the runner that lead from the door across the room to the guitar rack, bass in hand and throwing the occasional glare at Chris. They hadn't laid down a single note in over half an hour.
"Chris. What?" he finally demanded of her. She wheeled about to stare at him and blinked the fog out of her eyes.
"You've been gawking through that window for ages. We were writing the bridge! You okay?" Blake glided up to her and peered at her, stooping over so they were eye to eye.
Chris took a step back from him. "Dude chill! I'm just thinking, the last time I was here with you, Aro gave us their notebook. You remember?"
Blake nodded and straightened up. He grimaced and gave a visible shiver. "Yeah, and after that I almost drove past them on Gladstone. How could I forget? Ohhhh! We need that notebook! Didn't they say we could use it?" Blake crowed as if suddenly taken by some brilliant idea.
"Chris shook her head. "Have you no standards! That's full of the morose ramblings of a depressed, closeted baby-gay with more scars than friends. Talented yeah, but have some respect! Jesus Christ!" Chris scolded him without hesitation.
Blake finally stood still and bowed his head. "Sorry. You're right".
"The bridge needs a solo. And I can do a real basic one. But it'll be swallowed by your baseline, Blake! We need a guitarist!" She reminded, casually sticking one of her drumsticks in her messy bun and lodging her other hand firmly on her hip.
"You can play a complex solo Chris! Don't downplay yourself so much" Blake countered, irritably, resuming his glaring with full ferocity. There was a pause while the two of them stared into nonbeing for the merest glint of inspiration.
"What about Dylan?" asked Chris before she even really noticed the tactlessness of what she was asking. She heard herself say the words as if it were somebody else. She watched Blakes eyes set themselves on fire. He drew himself up to his considerable height and advanced on her.
Chris flinched.
"Don't you fuckin' dare Chris! You're a better person than that" he growled.
"I'm sorry, you're right I do no better. But don't you think it's been a while? Couldn't you two manage to write together just for a little while?" Chris asked him, wandering back to the drum kit and lowering herself without an ounce of grace back to the little stool.
"No! Absolutely not. I don't care if an eternity has been and gone, he's still not coming here. And anyway Chris, what happened to I've chosen a side?" Blake asked sulkily.
Chris bristled. "Listen to yourself! Yeah, you're right and I'm sorry. But he's not a total bastard. I've got your back man but I just had the idea. He's a way better writer than me. And I don't see Aro being ready to join the band any time soon. He's got this whole history with us musically. I'm just putting it out there, it might not be a bad idea ... but yeah" Chris let her tone devolve into a mumble. "You're right. I'm sorry".
"Yeah, you should be. I'm not calling my ex just because we need a few lines of tab" Blake snapped at her, cutting the silence that punctuating their exchange into ribbons.
"Better writer than you, come on! I'm looking right at the best writer in this room" Blake mumbled sullenly.
There was a long pause in the heavy, dusty air of the studio, which was broken by a knock at the door.

There stood a boy, no older than fourteen or fifteen. His hair curling over his haunted face, slightly damp. He looked like he hadn't slept properly in months and he might have carried the weight of the world in his school embossed backpack. His jacket hung off one slight shoulder as though he'd walked through the teeth of a gail. He looked from Chris to Blake and back again with his bright eyes.
"I'm sorry, but is one of you called Chris?" he asked the pair at large.
He looked so familiar that Chris didn't speak for several seconds as she took him in. His bright red hair was in stark contrast to his eyes a dull shade of green and simmering with quiet anger and confusion. Exhaustion danced among his freckles scattered across his thin face and showed livid against his pale skin.
Chris nodded and stepped forward.
"I'm Michael. Aro's brother" he announced, rocking nervously on the balls of his feet.
Chris gasped and walked forward, sticking her other drumstick in the back pocket of her jeans. "Ohh yeah! I'm Chris, this here's Blake" she introduced them both with a gesture.
Chris heard Blakes "Ahh" of comprehension from behind.
"Chris, you didn't tell me it was bring a friend to demo practice day" he muttered iritably, resuming his pacing.
"Aro wrote about you two. A lot" Michael stated, holding up a small moleskine book emblazoned with many disparate stickers in varying states of degradation reminiscent of the owners guitar case.
His facade broke down and he bristled, mouth twitching. "Tell me, please" he croaked. "What's happened to Aro? You know them. You saw them just before they disappeared. Mum wont say a damn thing! Not a fucking peep out of Aro! Not answering their phone! WHAT has HAPPENED!"
Chris gulped and took a step back. Michael stood still, gripping the book with white knuckles and quivering like a rocket trapped on a launchpad. He continued to look from one to the other, his calm facade falling away.
"Uhhmmm... Aro's safe. Now. But..." Chris began but Michael advanced forward alarmingly.
"WHAT?"
"Well, presumably after they left, that was when I, uhhh ... we ... encountered them on the road. Remember Chris we were ..." Blake began, coming to hover beside her.
"Yeah, look Michael, Blake here found your sister standing in the middle of Gladstone bridge. They needed to be hospitalised. Please don't worry, mate. They're alright now, but they're still in hospital" Chris added, flustered despite having nothing to hide from this child.
"Where?" Michael persisted, the book dropping to one side.
"Mercy General's inpatients. They've had surgery a little while ago and they're doing great" Blake explained.
Michael seemed to deflate, his gaze settled on Chris and his eyes shone as though watering. He dropped his backpack in the doorway and leaned on the doorframe. All the fight evaporated from him before her eyes.
"Has nobody phoned?" Chris asked him in what she hoped was a soft, concerned tone.
He shook his head and wiped his eye on his sleeve. "It's been over a week and they haven't come back, mum's keeping me in the dark and they've been replying just fine but not saying where they are or when they're coming home! I mean ... what the hell?"
Chris moved toward him and placed a hand as gently as she dared on his shoulder. "Sounds like you and Aro need to talk".
Michael nodded. He looked utterly defeated. Chris looked over her shoulder at Blake who leaned on the other wall.
"Well ... if you're willing to hang about for a few minutes, let us wrap up. We can run you down to the hospital. I was gonna go see them anyway. You could come? If you want. That's... well I mean. Does your mum know you're..." she enquired of the young Michael.
"NO! I'm mad at her! She's been lying to me! And anyway, she doesn't even know I'm here. She doesn't care!" Michael argued, his eyes fervent as though pleading with the pair of them.
"I ain't sayin a damn thing, little man" Blake mumbled.
"Trust me, I'm in no hurry to contact her, by all accounts she sounds like a real piece of work. Take a seat then, or if you want, you can be a beta tester and listen. We've got a demo for our latest song which your sister helped us write by the way" Chris offered, hopefully.
Michael appeared to be considering this.
He cast his eyes downward and shuffled his feet with a squeak. "I guess. I don't know anything about music though"
"Ehh, neither does the crowd at the Eight Bar. Now, Chris, ready at the kick-base! A-one, a-two!" Blake began, swinging his bass guitar back around to his front. Chris darted back to the drums and winked at Michael who stared at her, bemused and tearful.
They began to play through the instrumentals they had down so far written that evening. Chris hit the snare and the high-hats in a galloping style blues standard and Blake walked up and down the neck of his bass on the lowest two strings, slapping as he went as though trying to fill his own shoes as a bassist as well as those of the guitarist they didn't have. He stopped at the bridge they hadn't written while Chris continued to repeat the same twelve bars on loop and after this, they both fell out of time as Chris looked up at Michael to see him sitting in the producer's chair, hugging his legs and burying his face in his elbows. She stuck both drum sticks back in her back pocket and stood up, bringing the song to a clunky halt.
"My dude? Michael?" Chris called, making her way back round the drums and through the door to the kids side again. His shoulders shook subtly and he gave a small hiccup.
"Was it the demo?" asked Blake from the doorway.
Michael shook his head and wiped his eyes on his sleeves again. "Mnah, it's jus' ... mum, acting like an ass. School's ... you know. And now my sister's gone and fucked off and I'm just supposed to carry on like nothing happened. I'm just really mad".
Chris hummed in agreement, swallowing her own stab of contact rage as she leaned on the control panel and crossed her arms.
"Sorry" Michael said, sniffing and shaking his head.
"Why are you sorry?" Asked Blake with a trace of genuine confusion. He stepped forward. "You miss Aro. Naturally, you're curious about what happened to them and you're angry that you've been kept in the dark to a large extent. It's not right. Your mum should have told you the truth. But we can't do that. Aro's gotta" he continued.
"Sorry, Blake. We'd betta just go. Can you drop us off at Mercy? We'll get a cab home" Chris said, getting up and motioning to Michael to follow. She strode over to the hook and bench where she kept her backpack and coat.
"I'll drop you two off and then go grab some ingredients for dinner. Text me when you're done. Tell Aro I said hi will ya?" He replied as he zipped his bass up.
"Okay, but you sure I can't just get a cab home, I'm run this one", she nodded at Michael who remained very much inside his own world, "home in a cab?" She asked him as he hoisted his shoulders.
"Ehh, you can if you want but it'ed be a waste of money when I can just drive him back. Be quicker" Blake said in his upward inflected, slightly manipulative tone that grated on Chris slightly.
She narrowed her eyes at him but couldn't help but smile. "Damn you, big ol' softie" she muttered as she shoved her notebook and drumsticks into her backpack and swung on her coat.
"Come on Michael, we'll take you to see Aro" Chris beckoned to him and he picked up his backpack and Aro's book and hurried toward Chris. She turned out the studio light and the three of them filed up the staircase and back out through the lobby.