Screaming at the Sun | Frerard

Chapter Eleven

"Play it again," Gee instructed, leaning back in her plastic chair and sipping her Monster. The black can shifted between her hands as she thought. "But this time with more emotion."

"That's as much fucking emotion as I've got!" Frank protested, biting on his pick. "How many more times to you have to hear it before you can sing?"

Gee shrugged, standing up suddenly and bumping Frank away from the mic stand with her hip. Her heart was still beating wildly from the kiss, even after Frank explained the situation with his brother, and how they needed the song done ASAP. It was fucked up how they were doing that to him. "I can sing now."

"You sure you know the words?" Frank asked, before rolling his eyes. "Of course you fucking do, you've made me sing it four hundred times."

"Stop being a bitch," Gee remarked, waving a hand at him. "Start your guitar-y thing."

"Of course," Frank snorted, but began the opening riffs anyway. Gee drew in a deep breath, swallowing a few times before moving her lips up the mic.

She began singing, quietly at first, but slowly increasing her power as the song continued. Sure, it didn't sound great on the first try, but what song does? By the third run-through they had the track fairly tight track, and Frank was standing now, and Gee was more shouting than singing at certain parts, and she kind of liked it.

When they finished, Gee grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear. "What're you going to call it, Frank?" She asked, and Frank shrugged. "'All I Want is Nothing' seems pretty self-explanatory, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Gee nodded thoughtfully, biting her lip. "Do you think we should practice with drums? And bass?"

"Where are we going to find a bassist?" Frank asked, and Gee frowned, checking her phone. "It's about three o'clock, we could probably find someone, right? Use your magical fame-powers."

"Let me call Bob, first." Frank said, and Gee watched as he dialed up the drummer's number and invited him down. "You know who else I should call?" Frank said, more to himself as he called up Ray, asking if he wanted to join them and 'help.'

"What's Ray going to do?" Gee asked, furrowing her brow. "Wait, he plays bass, right?"

"Yeah, and he's a killer producer." Frank said, before pausing. "I think. Either way, none of the studios here are self-recording, so they all require additional help."

Gee nodded, and they played the song a few more times while waiting for the other two to show up. At one point Frank threw down his guitar, yelling, "We fucking rock!"

"Jesus!" Gee yelped, jumping as it hit the ground. "Frank, pick that up!"

Their opinion changed though, when Bob showed up, listening to them play. "Y'all sound like representatives from the deaf school," He commented, and Frank gave him finger guns, saying, "That's offensive."

"It's true," Bob shook his head. "Who's mixing this shit, anyway?"

"Ray," Frank replied instinctively, and Bob sighed with relief. "Fuck, Toro can fix anything. We'll be fine."

"We?" Frank asked, and Bob nodded, adjusting the seat on his kit and doing a few experimental hits with sticks he pulled out of his bag. "I hate practice kits," He groaned, but motioned at Frank anyway. "Okay, let's go."

It sounded better with Bob by a long shot, and Gee found herself focusing less about what she was singing and more on how she was singing it. "You've got some energy, Gee." Bob said as they finished, and Gee looked embarrassed. "Yeah, I get pretty into it."