This scene takes places somewhere in the middle of Street Glass, so the year would be '89 or '90. As currently written, this scene is not intended to be included in the novel. Its purpose is to practice writing, explore the earliest beginnings of Sandy and Sophie’s relationship, explore a bit of her relationship with Adam, and have some fun that wouldn’t be appropriate for the novel. As everything is in this novel, the scene is in close third POV.
The term “track” is sometimes used here as a synonym for the verb “record.” The term “cans” is used as a synonym for “headset.” Lennie is producer as well as engineer for Sandy’s song, with only Neal assisting him; that’s why I don’t mention anyone else. The term “studio” can be a bit confusing. Used here, it refers to the specific room that the artist stands in to sing or play, not a building. If anything else confuses you, drop me a comment.
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Sandy held the studio door open for Sophie. “I don’t need the lead sheets if you want to keep them with you.”
“Good. And if at any time you want to do something different, you just interrupt me.”
Neal followed close behind with another mic and headset. “This is the type of mic you prefer, yeah?”
She glanced at it then took a second look. “Yes, hon. That’s thoughtful of you.” She smiled before moving away.
He shot a grin at her though she didn’t see.
Sandy gestured for him to set the equipment up. It’s not thoughtful, Adam would’ve told him.
She told Sandy to stand at his mic then seemed to be gauging distance to some nearby spot. “Reach your hand out and touch my fingertips.” With her warm fingers just touching his, she backed up until their arms were completely outstretched. “This is where my mic has to go.”
“That seems pretty close,” Neal said.
“Don’t question the judgment of a seasoned artist,” Sandy said.
Neal scowled at him.
Sophie looked around the studio. “You haven’t got any ambiance here. That might have something to do with the problem. I always have candlelight and a bunch of beautiful things around the room, but we can at least cut the lighting here.”
“You have lit candles in the studio?” Sandy asked, picking up his headset.
“Sure. Full candelabras, four feet tall, each holding a dozen tapers. Usually I have incense too. Me and the girls dress up—well never mind. I’m sorry, you’re Neal? I need the lights lowered by half.”
“Yes ma’am. By half? Isn’t—never mind.”
He continued setting up her mic as she read over the lead sheets. At times she sang in a whisper. She took the headset from Neal without raising her gaze. He shifted his weight and looked over the new setup.
“Done?” Sandy said. “Or are you gonna do this too?”
Neal shrugged and went out. Sophie tried the lyrics as she read, her voice barely audible. She had the melody, all right. She pressed the button on the mic. “Thanks for dimming the lights. Can I have the music while I read this? Send it to Sandy too. I want him to get into the right headspace. I know you want to get levels on me, so let me hear this first and then I’ll run through it with Sandy.” She listened and read, continuing to sing to herself.
Sandy listened to the music in one ear so he could also hear Sophie. Maybe the song had been waiting for a woman’s touch. And maybe dimming the lights was a good idea. He’d been awfully nervous when she came into the studio with him, but now he breathed easier.
“Okay,” she said at the end. “Let’s do this. It’s not just for getting levels on my mic, it’s also so we can get a feel for how our voices blend. I’m going to stick to doing harmony. You look right at me while you sing, got it? You reach as far as you can for what you want, and then you reach further. You’ll see what I mean.”
The music started again and Sandy did as she told him. Her eyes held him. She didn’t look down at the words often but didn’t make any mistakes. A subtle electricity built up as the song carried on; even with her mysterious brown eyes fixed on him, the words and emotion flowed out of him easily. During the last half minute, while the chiming Rickenbacker faded into delicate piano, he couldn’t look away from her gaze. A sense of anticipation came over him.
[to be continued]
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