Flower

Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.

Mika.

Days later and here we are in front of a studio door.
“I never thought when you said we were going to find a studio you meant, we were actually going to break into one.” They all shush me.
“Do not shush me. It's midnight. Anybody out at this hour in downtown LA must be crazy.” They do it again and finally we hear a click and Jon gets up from squatting.
“Now that's a skill you don't learn in school.” He pushes the door open and we enter.
“Oh, so he can be loud but when I whisper you shush me?” I am in a mood. But it's not me, it's my period causing my hormones and moods to be very intense. Also the fact that I should be curling up in bed but instead here I am sneaking into a music studio in some building.
The place is nice. Not top tier but very equipped and just nice. Curly runs to the system and immediately turns it on.
“This is amazing.” She gasps and I just look at it. I don't understand it. Just a bunch of knobs and some other things. The place is full of equipment, so many guitars, I could name a bunch from all the lessons my mother made me get into, a piano, some more equipment, then something attracts my attention. It's a mic. Yes, a mic on the other side of this glass and equipment. I smile and walk to the door. It's not locked, I rush in and just sit there, looking for words to sing and then something comes to mind. The melody that I caught Nicholas humming a week ago in the van. I don't know the words to the song but I can create my own. It's always been easy for me to do. Something my mother took pride in and that just made me hate it, my talent. Thinking of all the ways she could exploit me made me feel nauseous and I try to shut off that part of my brain. But the last two years made me want to sing again, write songs, it took my mind off stuff and maybe one day I could sing them to Amelia.
And I start,
‘Like a perfect summer, I find your smile pulling me in.
It reminds me of the warmth, the clear blue sky’
Then I stop and open my eyes. All eyes are on me, two jaws on the floor, a set of thick brows raised.
“What?” It comes out like a squeak and I clear my throat, getting up.
“I couldn't help myself, I love microphones.” I push my hair back and try not to act embarrassed. I hope they didn't catch on to who the lyrics are for. Finally, Curly says something.
“Ummm. . . that was awesome Mika.” She says clearing her throat and the other two snap out of it.
“Yeah. I have never heard that song before. Who's is it again?” I look at Jon.
“Nobody's. I just created it.” I breath. Am trying my best to avoid someone's gaze but that someone is too curious for my good.
“Really? Damn you're good! Could you by any chance sing me to sleep every night?” Curly's elbow locates Jon's gut and he slouches, hissing. “Never mind.” He sits on one of the chairs. Nico is already in front of me before I can make any movement.
“What's the next line?” That's what he wants to know? Not, ‘Is the song about me or something?’ Suddenly, I feel my body temperature rising. Why did you have to love singing so much Mika? Now those curious chocolate eyes are staring deep into my soul, unraveling me. Even my heart is beating unevenly in my ears.
“There. . .” I have to inhale deeply before talking. “There is no other line. It was just that.” I step away but he blocks my path and all I can do is stand there, inhale his manly scent and just imagine, wild scenarios in my head.
“ Come on Flower, you and I know that as an artist, you always have the next line.” He steps closer and I step back. This is getting intense and tell me why I am thinking of kissing those soft, pink lips of his instead of how am being cornered.
“No. I don't think so. Besides, aren't you the artist? Where are the songs? Let's just focus on that. Remember we have a deadline?” Another step and then a wall. Why is there a fucking wall behind me? I inhale sharply to which his eyes move to my lips before coming back to my eyes.
“Do I make you breathless?” It takes a second for the words to register because my mind is busy thinking of how deep his voice is.
“What?” I ask not looking into his eyes anymore.
“The next line.” He says and my mouth moves on its own accord before I can even think.
“I wanna kiss them just to find out if they taste like ice cream and a cold drink.” I slap my lips closed and my eyes shut in embarrassment.
“I can't even rhyme so it makes no sense.” I try to defend myself and tightly shut my eyes.
“Good girl. That wasn't so hard now was it?” That's it? And did he just? I open my eyes. He smirks as if  knowing what am thinking.
“Ummm. . .if you guys are done with your verbal intercourse can we carry on?" Jon asks from somewhere and the world is rotating again. He steps back and I can freely breath again but it's not the same.
“Some of us are hella uncomfortable.” Curly adds and I pull my hair in my hands. I really have to get a hold on myself. Even Marcus never made me loose my senses with just his words. I inhale deeply and turn towards the microphone and suddenly, I don't want to sing anymore. Am just hot and bothered in places that are also bleeding and now, all I want to do is just cuddle myself until I fall asleep. I don't think I can function normally.
“If you're ready, we can begin.” Curly says, I nod and walk to the chair and settle. I can try though, it will only be a few hours. I inhale deeply before I feel a presence behind me. He was right about sneaking up on someone.
“Whenever you are ready.” We'd rehearsed a couple of times without the beats and am aware of where to raise my voice and where to lower it and where to just go steady. He hands me the iPad and I breath.
And the long album production process commences. Most of the songs, well all of them are Nicholas creation and some make me cry. They are all very emotional love songs and I mean romantic. There are two which are dedicated to probably women he loved or some future lady or some fantasy of a relationship he desires -its a little confusing, I can't figure it out - but the other five are just heartfelt songs for a mom, a dad, a sibling, a pet or anyone you value so much but can't reach. Or in his case, a longing. It reminds me of that boyband who sang about dancing with their father or something.
Then there is just one song that narrates his whole life story in parables and from the little info Curly gave me on him, I understand it.
Am sure this songs will blow a couple of labels' reps. He said he's targeting ten so I'll bet half. But like the girl I am, we have to redo the songs more than twenty times because of my emotions which in turn, affect my vocals.
So we have to break into the studio more times than I am comfortable with just to perfect everything. We only have ten shots at this and then. . .I don't know. I guess my contract ends and I leave the band with ten million cash whether we succeed or not. What happens next, I do not know. I will be busy getting a good lawyer in order to win custody over my daughter.
But I really do not see any sign of that happening. Do not judge me, am just stating facts. I mean, we are staying at one of the cheapest motels in downtown LA -that means the creepiest and scariest places to even think of closing your eyes- we can barely get three full meals down our throats and we have to break in to a studio just to make music. And so far, we haven't made any money anywhere. Makes me wonder who this contractor person is, why he is not supporting us and what he is gaining from all of this.
I wanna ask questions, I know I should but I don't know how to start or even where. This man is giving all he's got into this and so are the others, I mean you should see the way they play those instruments. Curly on the drumset, Jon on the piano and Nico playing his guitar and his baritone voice.
So much passion, so much energy, so much freedom, so much love that my heart swells up.I am also having fun, I can't lie and say there's no thrill in risking but I can only enjoy so much with my daughter at the back of my mind. Even though I know she doesn't lack for anything that she might need materialistically or is at no risk of being mistreated, I can't help but worry about her, because she doesn't have me. I am her mother and she is only six. Very young and I keep wondering if she's warm enough, does she take her vitamins? Does she get sick and cry for me? Does she gets nightmares and call for me but am not there?
I miss her so much. I wish I could call but due to my ‘insane mental state ’ I can only get three days a month to visit her. Which is worse because I have to watch her heart break every single time I walk away from her. Her tear streaked face as she cries in her nanny's arms and I know am steps away from breaking her and she might never forgive me and she'll ask me why I couldn't fight harder for her.
I want to not go to her. I want to keep my distance until I can prove to court am not mentally unstable and I actually have a good house to pass the inspection test. But then, she is expecting me. I just imagine her waiting by the window and as the time passes, she realizes am not showing up and then her tiny little heart gets shattered all over again. It's very difficult for me.
Suddenly, I feel something get draped on my shoulders and I wipe my tears messily and look back but he is already leaving.
“Wait!” I call after him, my voice comes out rough but he hears and stops. He turns. “Thanks.” I tell him and he nods. “Can you. . . if you don't mind. . . I just don't want to be alone right now.” I look away and I think he walks away but instead he comes back and sits next to me, doesn't talk nor do anything except be there. That's more than enough for me right now. We sit in silence for a while until I speak up.
“Do you ever think about having kids?” I ask and he turns to me before looking back at the dark sky.
“I have. A lot. But it's not easy for a person like me.” He sighs. “Women are looking for a wealthy man, a man who owns a good car, works twelve hours a day in a company he owns and still spends time and money on them, which if you think about it, is very hectic for the man. And I can't be that for a woman. Nowadays, everyone wants to see proof that you are skilled, that you have proper training for what you're applying for and I have none of it. Even to be a mechanic, I have to show credentials. No woman wants an uneducated man for a husband or a boyfriend. So I don't think any woman will ever want to have kids with me.” He exhales loudly and I inhale.
“I would.” That makes his neck turn so fast I think I hear a muscle crack. Am not lying though.
“What?” He asks. The surprise is expected.
“I have lived that life. I met a man at twenty who was a rising star in the business world at only twenty four. He even got me a car for my twenty first birthday and I was over the moon. He would spend money on me even though his company was at the beginning and in turn I connected him to my father's former business partners. I helped him rise and he proposed and we got married at twenty two. My uncles only helped him because I pleaded with them but now, I look back and I was so stupid. But life was good, I was living in a mansion, I was proud to be a wife and a soon to be mother. I was so excited to be a mother next to this man but turns out he started having an affair with his secretary behind my back. I only found out five years into our marriage and I made sure he regretted it. I beat him up and burnt his precious house. I do not regret what I did, the only thing I regret is loosing my daughter in the middle of all of it.” I sigh. “If I were to do it all over again, I would probably choose a loyal man who even though is not rich, is giving me his all. But it can't be done so, the next time I choose love, I am going to choose a man who will treat me and my daughter and our future kids like queens and kings even if we live in a cottage in the middle of nowhere. I will tell you this, money changes people. It changed my mother and she did everything to make sure no one ruined anything for her, my ex used it to keep my daughter away from me. But it can also be used for good. You just choose who you want to be when you get where you want to go.” I get up. That is not where I saw this conversation going. I talked to much, I think. The answer is supposed to be simple, a good poor man over a rich -with a stick up his ass- stingy man who cheats on me every single day. Not many women will agree with me and I don't blame them. Eight years ago, I was there. Not saying that all rich men are the same, there are some good men out there.
“Thank you for everything. Am gonna go get some rest now.” I say walking away but he holds my hand and I look back.
“You are really brave, you know that?” He smiles and I smile back.
“Are you kidding? I beat up Marcus and burnt his house. Which part of that was I not brave and strong?” We laugh and he gets up.
“Yeah you're right. Am sorry Flower.” He smiles and now am curious.
“Why do you call me that?” I ask. Nobody has ever given me such a nickname before.
“I guess I was right in giving it to you huh? Now I see the thorns on your stem injuring someone.” He brings his thumb up and wipes something from my cheek. “Go get some rest, tomorrow is a big day.” He gives me his signature smile. I nod and look down at our still intertwined hands.
“Goodnight.” I whisper and let go of his arm.
This is not going to be easy for me. I am already falling.