by Lili Valente
Even long minutes later, after we’ve come to our senses enough to look each other in the eye and silently acknowledge the enormous step we’ve taken, it still feels good.
So good, we do it again.
And again, until we collapse in twin puddles of exhaustion sometime long, long after midnight.
Chapter Seven
From the texts of Zack Halloran
and Chip Singer
* * *
Zack: Hey man, sorry to bug you so early, but I couldn’t sleep last night, and it got me to thinking—does this recording retreat have more than one bedroom? If not, I can always sack out on the couch or something if I need to, but I thought I’d ask.
* * *
Chip: Three things.
1—It’s never too early or too late, brother. I’m here for you any time of day.
2—This retreat has SIX bedrooms, an in-ground pool, a full-time housekeeper, and a gardener who used to be an audio engineer, just in case you get tired of self-recording and want someone else to push the buttons for you. There will be no roughing it on my watch. Ever.
3—Why on earth would you need to sleep on a couch? You’re a goddamned rock star. If there’s a bed, you take it and get your beauty sleep. Send your lady out to the couch if she won’t keep her hands off you long enough for you to get some shut-eye.
*winking emoji*
I’m assuming this is about a woman, right?
That you decided to bring a friend along, after all? Which I think is a TREMENDOUS idea. This place is incredible, but it’s in the middle of fucking nowhere. There’s a village a few miles away with a gas station, a general store, and a couple of restaurants, but that’s it. And everyone who lives there is at least a hundred years old, so you’re not going to be meeting any eligible bachelorettes at the bar.
It’s a carry-in, carry-out situation, woman-wise.
Just make sure she knows she’s got to leave you alone when you’re feeling creative or need your rest. *eggplant emoji*
* * *
Zack: You text faster than anyone I’ve ever met.
* * *
Chip: Thank you. Some people make beautiful music, some people have super-speed thumbs. We all have our gifts. Anything else you need, brother?
* * *
Zack: Um…no. I don’t think so.
* * *
Chip: Well, I do. What’s that dot dot dot about? That dot dot dot tells me there’s something you need, but you’re too nice to ask for it. This is a bad habit you have to break right now, my friend. You’re not a background player anymore. You’re the main attraction, and the main attraction gets everything he needs to be his best creative self.
Especially when he’s about to start recording his first solo album.
I’m a good mind reader, but every once in a while, you’re going to have to speak up and help me fill in the blanks.
* * *
Zack: It’s nothing. At least nothing that’s going to happen in the middle of nowhere.
* * *
Chip: Um, no. Don’t underestimate me like that. I have connections, and you’ve got money. Together we’re unstoppable. Tell me what you want, and I’ll wave my magic wand. I have personal chefs and masseuses and rush-delivery people on call, and if one of them can’t get you what you need, I’ll run it up to you myself. The retreat’s only a four-hour drive from my office in Manhattan, and I’ve been looking for an excuse to get some fresh country air.
* * *
Zack: Thanks so much, but it’s nothing like that.
* * *
Chip: Then what is it? You might as well tell me because I’m not going to give up until I get it out of you. They don’t call me the Pit Bull for nothing, you know.
* * *
Zack: I just… I think I might need to talk to someone. Professionally.
* * *
Chip: On it. And good for you for knowing when to ask for help. That takes real courage, and I am so down with that.
So what kind of professionally are we talking about? What kind of demons are you wrestling with, my man?
Booze? Drugs? Porn? General bad thoughts?
I don’t mean to pry, and this will stay between the two of us, but to get you the right kind of help, I need to know where to cast my net. But don’t worry, whatever it is, I’m going to find someone kick ass and get them headed your way. Depending on availability, we might even be able to arrange for a therapist to be with you for the entire two weeks. Could get pricey, but it’s worth it if it’s what you need to stay on track, right?
* * *
Zack: I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s nothing like that. Nothing serious. I’ve just been acting out of character since I quit the band, more impulsive than usual about some pretty serious stuff. It got me to wondering if I might need help.
* * *
Chip: Okay. What kind of serious stuff? Because honestly, impulsive doesn’t sound so bad. Impulsive energy is creative energy, excited energy, you know?
This could be a good thing! Especially for you, my man. You know how jazzed I am to work with you, don’t doubt it for a second, but a part of what I struggled with while I was shopping this project is the way you’re perceived in the industry.
You’re the good guy. And while we all love hiring the good guy to fill out the band, executives want something edgier in a solo act. They don’t know how to market the good guy unless he’s a teenager making girls in pigtails squeal in shopping malls, you know? Depending on the flavor, this little bit of crazy could be just what we’re looking for!
* * *
Zack: I decided to try for a baby with a woman I barely know.
* * *
Chip: *wide-eyed emoji*
* * *
Zack: I know. She’s a friend of a friend, and I know a lot about her, and I’m positive she’ll make an amazing mother. But the fact is I don’t have a history or a relationship with her. And no matter how much I’m enjoying her company or how intense the chemistry is, I have no idea if we’re going to be able to get along for the next twenty-four hours, let alone the twenty-whatever years it takes to raise a person.
* * *
Chip: Okay. Shit.
I was literally speechless there for a second, and that never happens.
Wow.
Fuck.
Okay, first up, you’re only going to be on the hook for child support for eighteen years. Still a long time, but not two full decades or more, so you can put that out of your head.
* * *
Zack: I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about making sure my kid has two parents who get along, even if they don’t live in the same house or have a conventional relationship.
* * *
Chip: Right. Of course. You should be worried about that, but let’s worry about the child support, too, okay? As much as I hate this part of managing, we have to consider this woman’s motives. Ugly truth, but you’re a very wealthy man, and a lot of girls are going to see getting knocked up with your kid as a meal ticket.
* * *
Zack: Colette isn’t like that. She wants to have a baby and can’t afford another trip to the sperm bank. It’s not any more complicated than that. She’s a good person.
* * *
Chip: Colette. What’s her last name? I’ll see what kind of background information I can dig up. In the meantime, you should buy some condoms and USE THEM. Hopefully you’ve dodged a bullet this time, and we can brainstorm alternative ways for you to move forward. Off the top of my head, I say you should give her the money for the sperm bank. Right now. No matter how pricey it is, it’ll be cheaper than eighteen years of child support.
* * *
Zack: No. I don’t want any of this. I don’t want you to dig up information on the woman I’m sleeping with. That’s not the kind of person I am. And I don’t consider having a baby a bullet to be dodged. I want to have children, and I’m not getting any younger.
* * *
Chip: You’re thirty
years old, for God’s sake! LOL. You’re still a baby. You have plenty of time. Most of the men I know don’t even think about marriage, let alone having kids, until they’re forty. Don’t rush it, brother. You’ve got time to be a family man when you’re too old and tired to rock anymore.
* * *
Zack: I don’t see it that way. My grandparents raised me. I’ve seen firsthand what it’s like for people in their sixties who are trying to keep up with a teenager. It isn’t easy. If possible, I want kids sooner rather than later.
* * *
Chip: Okay. So let’s discuss hiring a surrogate down the road. Or adoption, maybe. I don’t know any single men who’ve adopted, but if anyone can convince an agency to make an exception, it’s a guy with your resources and reputation.
And if you adopt alone or use a surrogate, you’ll be able to call the shots on how your kid is raised without fighting it out with anyone else. Believe me. My parents split up when I was ten, and most of my friends come from broken homes. There’s almost always fighting, and it’s always ugly. Trying to get two people who don’t love each other to agree on what’s best for a kid is close to impossible.
But, bottom line, this is a conversation we should have in six months to a year, after the first single hits number one and pre-orders for the record are through the roof.
Right now, your focus needs to be on making music, not babies.
The next few months are going to set the tone for your entire future as a musician, Zack. I don’t want to scare you, but a lot is on the line right now. It wasn’t easy to get you a solo deal, and if this project doesn’t soar, I don’t know that I’ll be able to get you another one.
I’m a magician, but I’m not a miracle worker.
You feel me?
* * *
Zack: I understand. I’m well aware of the position I’m in.
* * *
Chip: Right, so I think you need to have a come-to-Jesus moment with me, buddy. I suggested you bring a girl to the retreat to help you relax after a long day in the booth, maybe give you a few blow jobs between recording sessions, not to cause unnecessary drama. If this girl isn’t going to give you the support you need and let you be the center of the attention while you’re making a record that’s going to change your life, maybe she should stay home.
* * *
Zack: I invited her to come with me. It was my idea, not hers.
* * *
Chip: That’s okay! Just tell her you’re so crazy about her that you’re worried you won’t be able to focus on your work. Then promise her you’ll be all over her as soon as you get back. If she’s as sweet as you say, she’ll understand.
And that will give you two weeks to get some perspective on this baby issue.
Win-win.
* * *
Zack: I don’t want her to go. Last night was one of the best nights of my life. Like, I had to get out of bed and write a song about it in the bathroom afterward kind of good. And it wasn’t her fault I couldn’t get back to sleep. Just the smell of her lying next to me was enough to drive me crazy. The attraction is… It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
* * *
Chip: Wow. So she’s trapped you with sex voodoo. That’s what you’re saying.
* * *
Zack: No. Not voodoo. Just…her.
There’s something about her.
* * *
Chip: Fuck my life…
* * *
Zack: What? LOL. Why?
* * *
Chip: You’re in love with this girl.
* * *
Zack: I am not. I told you, I barely know her.
* * *
Chip: Doesn’t matter. I know love-sick when I hear it. That’s why you’re doing crazy shit. You’ve caught a bad case of love-itis, and as long as you’re infected, you’re going to give this woman a baby and your future and anything else she asks for, wrapped up in hundred-dollar bills.
I would ask if you want me to come personally remove you from her clutches, but you don’t have that much sense left, do you?
* * *
Zack: I’m not in anyone’s clutches. And love isn’t a disease. If I were in it, I wouldn’t be ashamed of it. But I’m not. I don’t fall in love overnight. I need time to establish that kind of connection with a woman.
* * *
Chip: That’s what they all say. Right up until they meet their Buttercream Frosting Girl.
* * *
Zack: Should I ask?
* * *
Chip: You know from your first bite of buttercream frosting, man. You don’t need to spend months forming a connection with the frosting, finding out the frosting’s politics or how many lovers the frosting has had or if the frosting chews with its mouth open or snores or has a bad habit of throwing dirty socks on the floor. One bite and you know—that shit is good, and you want as much of it as you can get and you always will, even after it gives you such a raging case of diabetes you have to have your foot amputated and end up walking with a limp for the rest of your life.
That fucking frosting will own you until the day you die.
* * *
Zack: Who broke your heart, Chip? Whoever she is, I bet you can get her back if you put your mind to it. You’re charming when you want to be. You shouldn’t have to walk with a limp for the rest of your life.
* * *
Chip: Hell, no. I like my limp. It keeps me grounded when I’m tempted to agree to meet a girl’s parents or help her put together furniture. Dealing with my clients’ parents and furniture is enough for me at this point in my life.
So I’ll ask again—do you want me to come rescue you?
I can be the bad guy, explain everything to Colette as sweetly as possible, and get you back on track to not ruining your life.
* * *
Zack: I’m not going to ruin my life. And I feel a lot better than when we started chatting. Thanks for the talk.
* * *
Chip: Um, you’re welcome, but I’m confused. WHY are you feeling better?
* * *
Zack: Perspective, I guess. It’ll all work itself out. I’ve never let fear get in the way of something I’ve wanted before. Why should I start now?
* * *
Chip: And what about the out of character behavior? How did you go from thinking you need therapy to being the master of chill, dude? I mean, I like chill, don’t get me wrong, but at the moment, panic seems more appropriate.
* * *
Zack: It’s what you said. It got me to thinking that maybe my behavior isn’t all that out of character. When I care about someone, I’ve always been the kind to go all out.
Maybe you’re right, and Buttercream Frosting Girls are a thing.
* * *
Chip: Oh, they’re absolutely a thing. A bad thing. Buttercream Frosting Girls ruin lives and crush souls, my friend. But it’s clear I’m stabbing my thumbs in vain. You’re already too far gone. Call me when your head breaks the surface of the Love-sick Ocean and you start gasping for air, okay? I will be there in a hot second to pull you out and get you the help you need.
* * *
Zack: I appreciate that. Don’t think I’ll need it, but I appreciate it. Oh, and I sent a rough track of the song I wrote last night to your Dropbox. It’s a cappella—I didn’t want to wake Colette getting out the guitar—but you’ll get a feel for the direction I’m headed. See what you think. Because I kind of want to scrap everything I’ve written so far and start fresh with this vibe.
* * *
Chip: Oh God. Now I wish I had a girlfriend so I’d have someone to fucking hold me right now. I’ll listen, but remember, you’re going up there to make demos so we can narrow down the list of choices for the final recording session, not to write an entire album from scratch. In two weeks, I’m going to need thirteen to seventeen demo songs to take to the label.
* * *
Zack: I know. Go listen to it. We’ll talk later.
