We’d been going over the same section of the song for about an hour now and I was getting ready to tell him and Rome to change their shit to something they could actually properly execute. I tried to support my brother in any way I could but damn. They were wasting time I could have been productive with.
Merch came out and collapsed onto the small couch, immediately groaning and letting his head fall back.
“I don’t know what the fuck the problem is,” he admitted.
“Me either but figure it out before you hop back in that booth.” I looked over at Rome who was cleaning up his lyrics. “You got something?”
“Yeah. I can lay my background vocals now.”
“Good. Hop in.” I took a hit from my blunt and adjusted the settings for Rome while he tried to get settled. “Where you want to punch? The top?” I asked.
“Yeah. That’s cool.”
I nodded and set him up. The music softly poured into the room and I nodded while the vocals he and Merch had already recorded played.
“Yo, yo, yo.” Dashawn made his appearance known as he opened the door and filed in, several fast food bags in hand; Alan and some chickenhead with him.
“What’s up?” I inhaled, pushed the smoke out, and reached over to dap the men.
I didn’t acknowledge the woman.
“Can I get in the booth after Rome comes out?” Alan asked.
“Yeah. Just send me my two hundred dollars for the time you’re about to waste,” I deadpanned. “Because I’m not eating studio costs for bullshit.”
“Fuck out of here. You know my shit was good.”
“To mothafuckas who can’t hear.” I turned back to the soundboard and made a quick adjustment.
Dashawn chuckled.
“This is for you and this is for Rome.” He collapsed into the seat beside me and tossed two fast food bags on the soundboard. “And stop doing my brother like that.”
“Tell him to stop doing those fucking beats like that. Bitch, I’m the victim.” I looked back at Alan who was obviously annoyed, sitting on the couch and looking everywhere but at me while the woman with him rubbed his back. “You got that shit you and Rome workshopped?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then we’ll try it.” I leaned back in my seat, then immediately sat back up when I saw Myome’s picture pop up on my screen. “Ay.” I pressed the speaker for the booth. “I need twenty. Take a break.”
“Alright.”
I answered Myome’s call while Rome came out of the booth. He snatched his bag up and looked inside.
“What’s up?” I licked my lips as my eyes roamed over Myome.
She was slightly shiny with sweat with a pair of shades over her eyes. Her hair was disheveled and she was breathing a little hard.
“You good?”
“Yeah. We did a run through of our set for the musical festival and it’s hot as hell out here.”
“What’s it supposed to be like tonight?”
“Like mid-sixties I think, so better.”
“That’s what’s up.” I grabbed my bag and opened it while Myome set her phone up in her car. “What are you eating?”
“A Caesar parmesan salad with grilled chicken and an apple with peanut butter.” She danced in her seat while she unloaded her food. “What are you eating?”