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An awkward silence filled the car from then on, and this time it was me who turned the music up. The CD was of Craig’s band–my new band–as it was the first time I sat in Amanda’s car. It sounded different now than that ride home from the airport. I had broken down each song into its components to learn it, and now I was listening to the music on a whole different level. I was also far less distracted by the beauty sitting beside me.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.
I let myself glance over to the goddess sitting in the driver’s seat for a few seconds and allowed my eyes to drink her in and imprint her to memory. Amanda’s raven hair was thick and wavy today, looking a touch wild but still a brushstroke away from perfection. She wore the same band t-shirt she had the day we met, only this time I was able to pick out the jumble of text on the front for what it said, ‘The Sufferers’. It helped that the logo was stretched out across her perfect breasts. I let my eyes roam over her bare legs and imagine what her butt must look like in the tight workout shorts she wore that contrasted strongly against her pale skin. Everything about this woman was absolute perfection.
I had fallen in love with her the moment we’d met.
It turns out the rehearsal studio was just in some guy’s garage, a few suburbs away from the girls’ house. I didn’t have any expectations as to where the band would be practising, but I was kind of expecting a proper rehearsal space. There had been a few around London I knew of and had hung out with a mate’s band as they rehearsed. They were usually small and cost a bit per hour, but they were soundproofed well and usually had enough basics for any bands to show up with their gear and play.
That was not the case with this place.
I left my borrowed equipment in the car while I went in to check out the space. Daniel was here already, setting up his bass rig. The small 4×10 cab looked well-loved, but the amplifier he was resting on top was anything but old and cheap. The Hartke 800-watt amplifier would be more than enough for this tiny garage and easily powerful enough for any local pub shows we might play. The five-string Warwick bass–resting in its opened case–also showed the man’s appreciation of his art. The brass machine heads gleamed, and the mahogany wood was highly polished and seemed to glow. I wasn’t much of a bassist, but I knew enough about the instruments to know which brands and models were fan-favourites.
“Hey, Nick,” Daniel grinned, extending a hand to me.
“Hey, man,” I replied, taking his hand.
Daniel seemed like a decent guy. He was shorter than me by a few inches, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in sheer size. The man was almost as broad across the shoulders as two men, and his jet-black hair and beard gave a wild, outlaw look. He had thick, muscular arms and his large, meaty fists looked like they had broken a few noses. But I had heard nothing but nice things about him, even from Erica.
He had been respectful at the party–to both my sisters and me–and I didn’t detect any animosity from him. This could have been a real issue considering I’d slept with Jen the first night we’d met. I had known that Daniel and Jen had hooked up–and that he was still interested in her–before meeting her, but I didn’t know the guy and hadn’t felt any guilt at having sex with her. Hell, I hardly knew her before I was balls deep inside of her while I eye-fucked Erica. Jen hadn’t shown any signs of being interested in me after that, so I guessed it probably went unnoticed.
“This place is cosy,” I said, glancing around the single-car garage.
“It’s a piece of shit,” Daniel laughed. “And not my first pick for places to jam.”
“Then why are we here?” I asked.
“Because Craig’s uncle is a ‘sound tech,'” Daniel said, putting exaggerated emphasis on the title. “And he lets Craig practice here for free, and you’ll learn rather quickly that it’s easier to just let Craig get his way on things like this. Less hassle with him is better.”
“You’re not really selling this whole band idea,” I laughed.
“Just making sure you know what you’re in for before you sign on,” Daniel said. “Need a hand with your stuff?”
“Yeah, that would be great,” I nodded. “Thanks, man.”
Amanda had already unloaded most of the gear I was using by the time Daniel and I had finished with our greetings, and we were both a little surprised to find she hadn’t asked for any help when moving the heavy amplifier and cab from the back of her car.
“You on steroids or something?” I asked, sizing her up jokingly.
“You don’t buy gear like this if you’re going to have a guy carry it for you,” Amanda winked. “I’m stronger than I look.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t fuck with her,” Daniel said, holding his hands up, palms outwards in surrender.
“Agreed,” I chuckled. “Don’t worry, we got it from here. You did the hard part for us.”
I rolled the guitar amp into the garage while Daniel grabbed the guitar case and gear bag. Just then, another car pulled into the driveway behind Amanda’s. The blue, tray-backed truck was blasting black metal through blown speakers, the tray piled high with equipment and hastily covered with an old, grey tarp that looked to have more holes than material. It definitely wasn’t very secure.
Craig jumped out and gave Amanda a quick hug before brushing by her. My sister looked a little put-off but recovered so quickly that I wasn’t sure if I imagined the dejected look on her face.
“Hey, dude,” Craig said excitedly. “You keen to shred some metal.”
“Yeah. I just need to get set up,” I replied.