by Jesse Jordan
I turn to leave the studio, and as I have the door open, I hear Rocky reply, almost too soft for me to hear him at all. “Yeah... me too.”
Unlike the previous month of frustration and not getting anything done, within three weeks we've gotten eight tracks finished for the new album. I finished polishing up the two done before being fired, so that gives us ten, plus the remastered three that they had left over from old EP studio sessions. Thirteen tracks, a good LP.
But we're looking for one more. Call Larry superstitious, but he doesn't like releasing albums with thirteen tracks. “I don't care if the Beatles released three albums with thirteen tracks or not,” he says as he sits in the production booth. “I want there to be fourteen on this release.”
“What do you have in mind, Larry?” I ask. “We're out of material. Rocky's written his ass off, but even the corporate writers are dry right now. All the good stuff's taken, all that's left is movie soundtrack or pro wrestling level.”
Larry nods, sighing as he rubs at his temples, something that makes me know he's thinking. He's gotten more and more excited about the Fragments’ album as he's listened to each completed track, and I can tell he really wants to sink his shoulder behind this thing and push it to the top. If we can get past this superstition of his, I think we can do it. “Well, what about a cover? I've always liked Eternal Flame.”
“You want the guys to cover The Bangles biggest ballad?” I ask. “That's a total throw away Larry, there's no way you can top those girls on that song.”
Larry nods, then stands up. “I know, but it's a good song, and since the girls aren't touring as much anymore, maybe we can appeal to some of that Gen X audience. Rocky's got the voice to do that sort of searching soulful mix. And the album's missing a love ballad. Plenty of dance stuff, plenty of hard rock, plenty of party rock. It should have a love ballad in there too. Think of it for the teenybopper crowd.”
Larry gives me a wink and leaves the booth, and I sigh, turning back to the guys. Joey finishes his guitar playing, and I give him a thumb’s up. “Okay, Joey, that was good. Listen, guys, Larry just came in, he wants another track for the album.”
“By the look on your face, that's not a good thing,” Rocky comments. His attitude towards me has thawed some since I tried to apologize, but there's still that gap between us, and it hurts. We were so close, so close to that happiness that I've wanted my whole life and now it feels like we're still farther apart than ever, and I don't know how to close that distance anymore. They say that time heals all wounds, and maybe that's just what Rocky needs, but in the meantime, I'm hurting.
“Well, you guys might feel the same when you find out what Larry wants,” I say, putting my hurt out of my mind for the moment. “Hold on, let me come in there, I'll bring my laptop.”
I get up out of my chair and go into the recording studio, taking the folding chair that Joey offers and sitting down, putting my laptop on top of one of the amps that the band uses when they're just practicing. “Larry says you guys need a love ballad on the track list. He's proposing a cover song.”
Rocky laughs, while Joey groans and Ian grunts. It's Ian who speaks up first. “A fucking love ballad? Why?”
“Well, part of it is that, apparently, Larry won't release an album with thirteen tracks. So, it's either twelve or fourteen, and in my opinion, if we cut it down to twelve you're going to be running a bit too short for the type of album you want,” I comment. “Rocky, you said it yourself last week, you're looking for a solid hour of good rock, right?”
“That's the goal,” Rocky confirms. “What's our time hack right now?”
“Well,” I say, turning around and looking at my quick spreadsheet that I've been keeping to help me with my mixing work ever since Rocky's comment, “with twelve tracks and no remixing, the longest we can get is thirty-nine minutes. That's not bad, I knew we'd have to come back for some work, but there's no way I can stretch that out to a full hour unless Joey's willing to play some Metallica's One level guitar solos for almost every track, or we bring in some guest verses.”
Joey cocks an eyebrow. “So, we need another track. What's Larry got in mind? Because we're pretty much tapped out.”
I nod, then sigh. “He happens to like the Bangles.”
“Eternal Flame?” Ian explodes. “Is he out of his fucking mind? He does realize that track's written for multiple women, a shitload of piano-synth, and to top it off, if he's superstitious, it was the last song they released before they broke up the first time?”
I sigh, nodding. “I didn't know that last bit, but yeah, I kinda mentioned that to him, in short form. But I could read his eyes, he's vibing off it until he can be convinced otherwise. So... if you guys have a better idea, I'm all ears.”
“A female love ballad,” Joey hisses, shaking his head. “What the hell?”
“Rocky and I have done it before,” I remind Joey. I look up at Rock, giving him a smile. He's sat silent the whole time, chewing his lip as he considers everything. “What do you say, Rocky? It's that or we can do My Immortal again.”
“No way would we get the rights to it, it's too new,” Rocky says. “Besides, who does own the rights to that?”
I do a quick search, and check it out. Not good, and I tell the guys.
“Shit,” Ian mutters. “We're not in either group.”
“Yep... and Eternal Flame is old enough that Larry can pick up the rights on the cheap,” I comment. “Since this is going to be a throwaway anyway, let's just do it, jam the thing with a little bit of your style, and I can get it remixed and ready to go by the end of the week. Then it's nothing but stretching and remixing, calling you guys in for extra bits. What do you say?”
The guys nod, and I stand up, taking my laptop back into the studio. I find song lyrics and sheet music for the guys to use as a takeoff point and sit back, listening as they try to work an arrangement. Ian's quickly bored out of his mind, I can understand, the percussion of the original mix is tame, and while Joey can pick out a lead guitar relatively quickly, there are parts that are going to need re-work. Frustration builds, Rocky's trying his best as well, but there's little progress made by five thirty.
“Okay guys, let's just call it a day,” I call into the booth. “I've got the materials on the other thirteen tracks, we can keep practicing on Flame tomorrow. Joey, that lead guitar sounded okay, maybe we can get that laid down.”
My prediction is way off though, as by Friday afternoon we've got exactly jack and squat on tape for Eternal Flame, and the guys are not feeling good about it. I expect today to go late so I arranged for Mom to pick up Bella from daycare, and now, at seven o'clock, I'm glad I did.
“Ian?” I ask from the booth as he rubs at his temples. “You okay?”
“Fuck no,” Ian grumps, then stands up. “Cora, I'm sorry, maybe it's the whole only going until six or so like we've done working together, but I've got a migraine right now. I'm calling it a night for me.”
“Yeah... I guess me too,” Joey says. “I'll keep working on the guitar stuff over the weekend, but I'm gonna call it myself.”
Joey and Ian leave, and I look in at Rocky, who's still sitting down, thinking. I get up and go into the studio, taking a seat in a chair. “Talk to me Rock. You're looking like you're about ready to chew glass.”
Rocky looks up into my eyes and chuckles darkly. “I'm not feeling it, Cora. I don't know if it's the song or if it's the subject or even if it's trying to get it to change over from pop to rock, but I'm not feeling it. And every day this is getting worse and worse for me.”
“Have you been trying to think of something to replace it?” I ask, taking a guess. “I know you, you're pretty creative when it comes to alternatives.”
Rocky nods, and passes over a tablet of paper. I open it up and see page after page of scribbled out junk, and behind Rocky, I can see a trash basket full of wadded up pages. “As you can see... I'm dry.”
“What's the issue?” I ask, leaning back. “The ballad part?�
�
Rocky shakes his head, letting it sag until his chin's nearly in his chest, and I can barely hear his next words. “I guess I just don't know how to sing about love. Or maybe I just don't know how to write about it. I don't really know it, maybe.”
My heart breaks, and I know that I have to take a chance. Maybe Rocky rejects me, maybe he understands. Maybe this is the last day that I'll ever get a chance to produce for him, maybe he'll realize what I'm trying to tell him. “Wait here. There's something that I wrote, something that you need to see.”
I go back into the booth and grab my backpack. It's still there, inside the inner pocket where I always keep it, ever since the night five years ago when I wrote it. I carefully open the book to the right place and read it over, swallowing my fear. Rocky has to understand. If he doesn't… well, maybe it's never been meant to be.
He's looking up when I come back into the studio, holding the book to my chest. “What's that?” Rocky asks as I hold the book out to him. “A comp book?”
“It's the book that I used to write our ideas down in,” I explain softly. “I wrote something in it that I've never had the guts to show you before. But.... please.”
Rocky takes the book from me, and I'm too nervous to say anything, so I turn around and look into the window that separates the studio from the production booth, and wait with my heart in my throat.
“The light is so bright, but still you can't see, the glare has blinded you, it's kept you from the truth...” Rocky says softly as he reads, and I close my eyes, unable to bear it anymore. Without even realizing it I begin to sing, the tune the one that I worked out in my head over the years as I thought about the song again and again.
“How can Four Letters hurt so much?
How can they break my heart?
It's only six little letters
How can Four Letters hurt me so?
When they're put together this way
When I want you to say love,
And what you say is friend.”
“Cora...” Rocky whispers and I hear him drop the book. I turn around, the tears already threatening to stream down my face. “Cora… this is about me?”
“I've loved you for so long, Rocky. I can't... I love you,” I whisper as Rocky comes closer. “Every time you called me your buddy or your friend, it tore my heart out. It still does. And I've never meant to hurt you, ever.”
Rocky's eyes burn with a fire that I've never thought I would see as he steps closer, pushing me against the soundproof padding on the wall of the booth, and his lips find mine. We kiss passionately, my heart racing with the joy of his accepting me. I pour my love into the kiss, our bodies pressing close together as we tug and pull at each other's clothes. I'm just wearing simple shorts and a t-shirt today, and when Rocky gets my shirt untucked, he lifts it, his lips hungrily devouring my neck and leaving stars shooting across my vision from how good it feels. “Rocky... oh my God…”
“You're beautiful,” Rocky says, lifting me up and pulling me away from the wall enough to pull my shirt over my head. Lifting me higher, he keeps standing but brings my breasts to his head level, kissing and sucking outside the cups of my bra until he realizes that I'm wearing a front closure today, and with a chuckle he pins me against the wall, freeing his hands. “And don't you dare say that you need to leave.”
“I'm all yours,” I laugh, putting my hands on his powerful shoulders while he undoes my bra. The cups fall to the side and suddenly I'm engulfed in a wave of electric white pleasure as he nibbles and sucks on my right nipple, his tongue causing me to moan deliriously. Rocky's mouth brings me higher and higher, my pussy throbbing with my pulse as I'm thrilled more than I ever have in my life.
I feel tightness roiling in my stomach, I'm close to coming and Rocky hasn't even gotten my shorts off yet, my mind is overloading with emotion and electricity. “Rocky... please Rocky, I need you...”
“You have me,” Rocky growls, his hand reaching between my legs and rubbing me through my shorts. Rocky switches breasts, and I'm lost, the shocks from my pussy joining the heat that's coming from my nipples and crashing, exploding through me. My legs straighten and stiffen as I come, my head is thrown back as my arms clutch at Rocky's head, not wanting him to ever leave me.
This is happiness. This is what I've always wanted. The love of this man, the pleasure that only Rocky can bring me, my mind whispers as I come down, Rocky lowering me carefully to the ground. I keep my hands around his neck and kiss him tenderly, grateful. “My love...”
I feel his cock pressing against my thigh, and I smile, reaching down with my right hand to cup him. Rocky gasps and I tug at his shirt, unbuttoning it as I go. I peel his shirt away from his ripped torso, kissing the swells of his chest muscles before biting his left nipple tenderly until he groans and pulls my head tighter against his skin, and I can feel his heartbeat trough my lips. I pull back and take him by the hand. I see exactly what I want, the high seated chair that Rocky's used for sitting down in between takes when recording. I reach it and unbutton my shorts, pushing them down my legs with my panties and stepping out, glad I wore easy to take off casual shorts today. “Rocky... I'm on the pill. Please?”
Rocky growls and nods and I smile, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling him out. He's even better than my fantasies, long and thick and oh so hard, the velvety soft skin warm and throbbing in my hand as I sit down and spread my legs, letting him look at my pussy. I've always kept myself shaved, more for the fact that I like to wear sports style bikinis when I take Bella to the pool than for the look, but the fire that flares in Rocky's eyes makes me feel sexier than ever. Rocky clears his throat and takes his cock in his hand, his free hand cupping the back of my neck. “Cora....”
“It's okay, Rocky. I love you,” I whisper, and he nods, understanding. He slides the head of his cock inside me, and I'm shocked again. He feels even thicker than I thought, and it's barely an inch before I feel like I'm being torn open. Rocky stops though and pulls back before thrusting in again, his eyes fixed intently on my face. I grab his muscular forearm, the cords of guitar-playing muscle giving me plenty to grip as he stretches me open slowly, taking his time, his stomach muscles rippling with every thrust. I can feel him trembling like a race horse, the tight, steely bands of strength and sinew nearly vibrating with the restraint he's forcing on himself. With a final long, slow thrust I feel him slide deep, deep, deeper than anyone's ever been. Then he's all the way inside me, both of our mouths falling open it's so overwhelming. “Holy fuck... yes...”
“Yes...” Rocky groans, his hips pulling back before he thrusts again, hard. His hips smack sharply into my ass, jolting me as his eyes go dark with intensity. He's searching my face for any sign of discomfort, of pain, but all I want is him, and I want him as deep and as hard as he wants. Instead of wincing, I smile and pull him in for another kiss, our lips meeting as Rocky begins to thrust in and out, hard and deep, his cock opening me up more and more. Thunder crashes through my body with each hard, deep stroke of his cock, the head rubbing against my g-spot every time he pulls back and thrusts again.
I hold on to Rocky, my will to resist obliterated. My body, my soul is taken by him thoroughly, unrelentingly, as his cock strokes in and out relentlessly, his powerful hips driving him deep into me over and over. I've never felt this before and I'm caught up, helpless against his power and his passion.
I thought that this would be like with my other lovers, but Rocky's different. He's passionate, each stroke lighting the nerves in my pussy up with lights, sounds, and an energy that doesn't stop. He keeps going, his cock never giving me a chance to breathe as I realize that I'm getting ready to come again, trembling on the edge.
“Rocky... oh fuck Rocky... yes, yes, yes...” I repeat over and over, my pussy squeezing around his thick, veiny cock, wanting to please him and to feel him give himself fully to me. “Please Rocky... love me...”
“Cora!” Rocky suddenly grunts, and I can feel his cock swell, my body clamping down as my se
cond orgasm crashes through me, wave after wave of release. Rocky cries out wordlessly, his groan coming from deep inside him, from his heart as he explodes inside me, filling my pussy with his precious come. I'm crying out as well, clutching him to me as he spurts, again and again, the warmth mixing with the heat of my body. My body is racked with spasms, and I'm sobbing, not in sadness but in joy and happiness, the warmth completing me and making me realize that maybe I had to wait, but Rocky's been worth it.
Rocky holds me tightly as we come down from our climaxes, and I feel wetness on the skin of my shoulder. Lifting his head, I see that Rocky's crying too, and I wipe his tears away, kissing him tenderly. “Rocky, never, ever think that you aren't loved,” I whisper, brushing his hair out of his face. “I will always love you.”
Rocky can't speak, but he nods and holds me closer, his body saying what his voice can't. In his arms, I can feel him start to cry again, but it's okay. I understand, and I hold him close, the two of us sinking to the floor and comforting each other until we're able to stand up and get dressed a long time later, so late I'm shocked we haven't had someone discover us.
Not that it matters to me.
Chapter 16
Rocky
“Hey Rocky, you okay today?” Joey asks as he gets out from under the squat bar. We decided to do legs today for our Sunday workout. Joey just finished his set with two fifty, about the most he goes to and helps me put another ten-pound plate on each side, we’re going for endurance. “You're looking out of it today, man.”
“Sorry,” I reply, getting under the bar. I go to lift it, but for some reason, I'm off balance, and I quickly set it back down in the hooks, I don't want to throw out my back. “Fuck.”
“All right man, I'm calling a Code Red. Strip the bar,” Joey says, injecting the hard and fast rule that the two of us have had ever since we started working out together. A Code Red means that regardless of feelings, regardless of whatever the other person says, we're shutting down the workout, no questions asked. “Come on, strip the bar.”
