My Fallen Angel (COMPLETE)

Mr. Rockstar chapter 16 (edited)

Chapter 16* 

January 2011 

"You sure you want to do this?" Andy asked, the car off but the doors unopened. 

I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure," I assured him. I was ready to do this, I had been for a long time. 

"Okay," Andy replied, unsure. He knew I was ready, but he wasn't sure if I was ready for myself to be ready, if that made any sense to any of you. 

Andy got out of the car and then cam around my side to open the door for me. He helped me out, the growing size of my body making it harder for me to maneuver. I was officially twenty-two weeks along, as of yesterday. Dr. Mathers said that I'd be ready in eleven to twelve week, considering I was having twins. 

We walked into the recording studio, the same one I had spent endless hours at with the band last year. I knew this place like the back of my hand, and I knew the regular workers even better. Take the security guard, Mikey, who was standing just inside the front door, for example. 

"What's up, Mikey?" I greeted him with a smile. 

"I'm good Ms. Night, how have you been? I haven't seen you around here for about a year," he commented, smiling. 

"I'm just dandy," I said, really meaning it. "Except for the magazine interview we have later today with AP Magazine." 

"Not taking the publicity well, eh?" he sympathized. 

I shook my head. "Not particularly, no," I said. 

"Better get used to it, Ms. Night. Especially if Mr. Trace thinks you're good," Mikey told me. "If he likes your voice, you'll be laying down an album in no time, and he'll be sure to make it widely spread, no matter the genre." 

Mikey knew I was more into metal and classic rock than contemporary and pop. He was into rap, his favorite was Eminem, so we related there. 

"That's wonderful," I grumbled. Don't get me wrong, I wanted this, I just didn't like the thought of me possibly getting so big so fast. It was actually really scary. 

Mikey chuckled as the receptionist, Carey, called over to Andy and I. 

"Alexandria, Andrew, Mr. Trace will see you now, studio four," she said politely, smirking. She knew fully well that Andy and I hated it when she used our full names, so she made sure to bug us whenever we were here. I stuck my tongue out at her like a four year old, something I was good at doing, and walked hand in hand with Andy to studio four. 

It was like most recording rooms you've seen on television. One room, just separated by a glass sheet, one part set up with high-tech equipment and the other set up with slightly less high-tech equipment. Mr. trace was sitting in a chair on the side with the soundboards and all of that stuff that I'm not even going to pretend to act like I know. 

Mr. Trace was a tall man with sandy blond, slightly greying hair, and fashionable square glasses. He was wearing a suit with the jacket open, revealing the dark red dress shirt he was wearing underneath. The smile he had on was friendly enough, but people in this business were surprisingly good actors. You never really knew what to expect. 

"Hello, I'm Mr. Trace, but you can all me Morgan," he introduced, the seemingly genuine smile still on his face. 

Andy and I both shook his hand, introducing ourselves. "I'm Andy, and this is my girlfriend, Zandy," Andy told Mr. Trace. 

He nodded appreciatively. "Yes, I've heard much things about the both of you, exceptionally good, of course. Andy's band is on the rise and you seem to have a unique voice, Ms. Night. One, that I would love to hear."