"Car's here!" I shouted to the others as I dropped the curtain back into place and picked up my guitar.
Walking out of the front door, the guitar strapped to my back, I found myself wondering where Robin had been last night. I shook my head; it had nothing to do with me. I knew what it was like to have people going on about where you'd been the previous night.
The three of us got into the car and sat in silence as we were driven to the studio. I occasionally caught Kyle glancing at me. When I caught his eye I raised an eyebrow and he blushed. Then I realised my hair was still a complete mess as I hadn't brushed it this morning.
When the car pulled up outside the studio, someone opened the door for me. I scowled at the man but I didn't say anything. I was more than capable of opening a car door for myself.
Walking into the building, we were directed to the lift and escorted to the correct floor. Kyle was nervous about this recording, I could tell. He was fiddling with the straps on his guitar case. When the lift doors slid open, the three of us were directed through a load of corridors until Rody came into view.
"It's nice to see you're on time," he muttered.
"Hello to you too," I replied.
He glared at me for a moment. I could tell I was starting to irritate him. It made me smile a little bit.
"Right. Today we're going to be recording the first song of your album. I hope you've actually been practising the past few days. At least you've managed to stay out of the newspapers," he said.
"Glad you have such faith in us," Robin said sarcastically.
"Let's just get to recording," Rody sighed.
So that's what we did, mainly without fuss. Anyone could tell there was tension in the air. There wasn't any chit-chat, just Rody telling us how to improve, what to do, complaining that Kyle or I had done a chord wrong.
"No, Kyle, it's D7, not plain D," Rody said frustratedly.
"Sorry," Kyle mumbled.
He was getting upset. It seemed to be him getting shouted at the most, even though I could hear nothing wrong with the music he was playing.
I smiled at him, kind of apologetically even though I knew it wasn't my fault. He smiled back.
"Let's go again," Rody commanded. He would always find faults in it.
Eventually, several attempts later, Rody was quiet after we'd finished. The look on his face didn't tell us whether it was good or bad. Then...
"That was perfect!" he exclaimed, ecstatic.
Robin, Kyle and I were grateful for that. My fingertips were starting to hurt, even with the decade or so of playing. Robin's voice was starting to sound a bit hoarse and I could tell she wasn't all too impressed at how sober she was. Kyle was looking like a kicked puppy. If he got shouted at again, he probably would have burst into tears. Rody was practically jumping for joy, however.