Grey

Thirty-Eight

[FINN]

The song was blaring in the room for the third time. I could sense how the lads felt based on their silence, fueling the anger coursing through my veins. When the producer, Bill, stopped the track, it was naturally Jack who had the balls to say something.

"I don't think it's there," he glanced over at me, shrugging his shoulders casually as if I hadn't already laid vocals 11 times that afternoon. "It's that second chorus I think we're all hung up on."

Pete and Ace's silence confirmed it was a unanimous opinion, but Jack just had to keep up.

"Your voice sounds a bit whiny, mate."

"Does it?" I snapped, knowing how patronizing my tone was and not giving a fuck. "Right then, if it's so shit, why don't you give it a go, Jack? See how that fucking sounds."

Jack stared at me with a smile that was anything but genuine, the frustration evident in his eyes.

"Alright," Ace stood up with an exaggerated groan, grabbing my backpack off the floor and shoving it into my chest. I gripped it loosely. "You, out. That's strike three of the day, Finn. We're calling it."

"Fuck," I cursed under my breath, running a hand over my face. "No, let's just fucking do it. I'll do it."

"Best to just give it a rest," Ace squeezed my shoulder. "Not in the right headspace, man."

"Running out of free passes, Fox," Jack smirked at me as I opened my eyes and frankly, I still wanted to hit him. "We're all bloody tired of you being a miserable prat. Think you've milked your misery enough."

"Come off it, Jack."

I stood up, slipping on my coat and throwing my backpack over my shoulder. I mumbled a few apologies for good measure - directed at three of four in the room - before slipping outside into the frigid air. I held my phone between my shoulder and cheek, listening to the dial tone as I lit a cigarette.

"You're done early," Anna commented quizzically. "I thought you said you were going until 4?"

"Got kicked out of the session," I mumbled, taking a drag as I walked down the sidewalk. I spoke as I exhaled the smoke. "Lucky you, you've got me all afternoon now."

"You got kicked out? What do you mean?"

"Doesn't matter, Anna. Coming over or not?"

"Oh okay, you're in a lovely mood. I don't know now."

"Please," I sighed. "I'd like the company. I'll be home in 10, come whenever."

I was shivering as I reached my place a bit later on than I anticipated, stomping the cigarette out on the sidewalk before digging for my keys. The usual fight with the stubborn knob ensued as I put the key in and jiggled it around until I felt the click, thankful for the wave of warmth as I stepped inside and let the door fall shut.

I knew I was stomping my feet up the stairwell but I didn't care, rebelling against Boris. Expectantly, he was banging on the wall in protest as I passed his front door. I didn't flinch or even slow my walking, using my palm to bang right back as I continued on.

As I reached my floor, I was surprised to see Anna already there waiting for me. She was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, a scold surely sitting on the tip of her tongue but I cut her off.

"How'd you get in?"

"Boris," she retorted, shaking her head at me disapprovingly. "He was coming back from the shops when I got here. You've got to give that poor man a break, Finn."