This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad (9 page)

I get up for
another Danish. Poor Marcus; why can’t he just get out of this? That’s right, he signed a contract. Welcome to show business!

“
Six months to write, compose and produce twenty original songs. That means we have to write about a hundred of them! I have an engagement in Dublin, Matt, and you knew that!”

“
I’m sure we can make this work. October first is still far away. Lucia is still the lead and has been pulled off any other projects for the time being,” Callia says.

They all turn to me as I
’m pouring myself more tea. Time to razzle dazzle them. I put a reassuring smile on and sit. Who got played now, Just Marcus? Matt is a dickhead and screwed us both. Deal with it!

“
I listened to two demos this morning. Lucia did a great job.” Beesly smiles like a proud mother. She walks over to them with my CD.

“
Thank you, Beesly,” I say, finishing my second Danish.

“
I thought you lost your voice,” Marcus tells me.

“
I just had nothing to say,” I tell him.

He gently grabs my arm and takes me away from the group.
“How long have you known?” he whispers then lets go of my arms.

“
You mean that that friend of yours didn’t share his own concept?” I whisper back, caressing my arm. “It sucks doesn’t it? But don’t worry; this is far from over,” I smirk and quickly walk away from him.             

“
Really, Lucia? This is how you’re going to play this one out?” he asks.

“
I guess so.” Yes, Marcus. Eat your humble pie. I ate a whole bakery worth yesterday. “Callia, is that my gift I see in the corner?”

“
Yes, honey. Come and get it.”

I pick up my huge gift box and glance at Marcus one last time. I feel almost bad for him
– almost.

I check my watch for the fourth time. Lucia is late. We were supposed to be auditioning for backup singers an hour ago but she never showed. Not that she hasn’t been acting like a total professional, if I’m not including today, but we don’t really talk. Correction: Lucia is not talking to me – like today. Where the bloody hell is she? She could at least have left me a message or returned all the ones I’ve left her. So, I find myself alone in the recording studio and so far only one singer has come for the audition. We were expecting at least twenty for today alone.

These four past weeks have been, for lack of a better word, hell. I
’ve tried to convince Matt to lower the amount of tracks for their album but had no success. We need to record at least three songs each month to meet the deadline of 1st October . We’re four weeks in and already behind schedule with only two confirmed songs. And neither of them were mine. The title song Lucia wrote was chosen right away by the band. After I completely changed the melody with Lee and rearranged orders of the vocals, we all agreed that it would be a great first single. We were off to a great start! Matt was beaming with pride because he got me here, Beesly was happy because Matt was happy and Lucia was hurt because, and I quote, “I changed her song to make it a gimmicky European pop ballad”. I didn’t care; all I could think was that it would be a quick job after all. One week, one song down. And what a hypocrite – she loves Georges Michael! But it all went ape shit after that.

It started with Lucia, who apparently took a vow of silence, in my presence only I might add. She was more than vocal when it came to anyone else. She has been telling Matt to go to hell more times that I can count, and negotiated the deal with the famous G band
’s musicians to come and record with album with us. I still can’t believe she booked them; I’ve tried for years but they’re always too busy. But G band comes with a price at least for me. Lucia wanted to make some sort of acoustic album. I didn’t – one of many reasons I don’t pair up when I work; I don’t like to consult with anyone, especially another producer. Lucia didn’t want to do my style of music at all. She would show up on time to our brainstorming sessions with one of her guitars. Yes, she plays the guitar and she plays it beautifully. She would always show up with a basket of freshly baked foods, from lemon meringues to chocolate éclairs. I don’t think there’s a dessert she cannot bake. How do people in this building stay thin? She would bring a plate in the room with us and all I could hear was her typing, the music she was listening to or sometimes her playing some notes on her guitar. She called it “research”, European pop research. I called it avoidance and a not very mature attitude. We haven’t been able to clear the air since the meeting and with the G band arriving early next week, we would really need to get our act together. At the end of the sessions, she would actually give me her notes or lyrics. Two weeks of that led to five complete songs, when it could have been ten. But at least we were getting somewhere. That was when Matt got involved and ruined it for all of us. He hated the demos and refused to even try to record them. After a solid week of fighting and skimming in the studio, Lucia got Beesly to record one of her song as a solo. Then it was back to the drawing board but this time on our own; we just sent each other our work when we were ready to meet Lee. Another week and six more songs; Matt came back with the same attitude and intimidated Beesly enough for her not to even consider recording without him again. They (meaning “he”) would consider the songs if the demos were recorded with a better voice. Lucia has been kind enough to do the demos, take after take, change after change, so we can be ready when those two come to town every other week. I had got to give Lucia some credit; she took the abuse and washed it off. Besides, she has an amazing voice. And it fits her acoustic approach, which had been growing on me. Just like her, even with the silent treatment, which has been getting harder and harder to keep up on her side, I’ve been killing with kindness, or at least I thought it was.

So here I am today, auditioning for backup singers that we will also use for demos. An extra cost that would be added to the band
’s bill not the Noël-Sarrow’s. Matt wasn’t happy about it, but Lucia was very pleased with herself.

She
’s still not here. I check my phone for messages again – nothing. No, wait, my email inbox has something. An email from Lucia sent about an hour ago.

            
 
Subject: Today’s audition

             
Dear Marcus,

             
I apologize for the late notice but I moved the auditions to this afternoon at three thirty pm and tomorrow. Matt called me out of the blue last night to say that he wanted to be present. They’re flying from LA this morning.

             
Kind regards,

             
Lucia Mpobo-Riddell

.

Right. Once again, Matt gets involved. I write back:

              Dear Lucia,

             
I just saw your email. Don’t you think ringing me would have been easier? But I guess it would have involved you actually chatting with me. See you this afternoon.

             
Are you bringing anything today? I suddenly feel like eating one of your famous apple strudel
s
.

            
 
Marcu
s
.

I need a drink and not a cup of tea. It’s our second day of interviewing backup singers and Matt has been driving us mad. None of them are good enough for him and so far we have heard over thirty auditions and have chosen none. Lucia silently keeps putting notes in her laptop. She came with a lemon, poppy-seed muffin basket this morning; not apple strudels, but delicious nonetheless. She’s completely concentrated on her writing from what I can see, her profile. Her hair looks very…youthful today. Two cornrow braids, one of each side, and she’s wearing a simple, black tank top and dark-blue jeans. I can’t help smiling; she’s still wearing my charm bracelet.

The four of us in the studio for the past three hours is starting to take a toll on all of us, except Lucia. Matt
’s pretty much stopped listening to the singers; Beesly, so dedicated a couple of hours ago, is now just following Matt’s lead before saying anything. I’m no better; I can’t remember how good or bad the five we heard were.

Lucia presses the button to speak to our thirty-something
audition. “Thank you, Mira. We’ll let you know our decision soon,” she tells her. She writes more notes. “I think we need a break,” she adds as the singer lets herself out of booth. “So, Matt, what did you think?” She turns to me. “Marcus?” Then Beesly. “Beesly?”

“
Off key, like the others,” Matt says.

“
I agree. We need a break,” Beesly, the peacemaker, answers.

“
Not sure. Her
voice
was fine,” I tell Matt. I turn to Lucia. “A break would be fantastic. I don’t think she fits for what we’re working on right now.”

“
Yes, I agree,” she tells me with a small smile. That’s a surprise! First smile in a month. She gets up and closes her laptop. “I think we’re done here.”

I spoke too quickly. We can
’t be done; we haven’t decided on anyone yet. Matt looks at me. I know this look; it’s the do-something-now look. Beesly looks at Lucia, waiting for the next bomb to drop I’m sure.

“
The hell we are!” Matt yells. Not what I would have done. “I haven’t decided on anyone yet,” he adds. Again, not what I would have done.

“
Lucia, what’s going on?” I ask her. I know we still have about a dozen singers to see. I come closer. “Are you trying to make our lives even more hellish?” I add, lower.

“
That’s yours and Matt’s job not mine,” she whispers. She faces the couple. “Let’s meet in two hours and discuss it further.” She turns to me one last time. “Things always look better on a full stomach.” She opens the door and turns back. “Beesly, you’re coming? I know this great place not far from here,” she says with a bright smile. Beesly happily leaves the room with her. Nicely played Lucia, leaving me with grumpy.

“
Okay, Matt, I need a drink and I’m sure you need one as well. So, let’s go.”

“
How about two, mate!” he laughs and heads to the exit. “My treat.”

I stop in my tracks. Matt
’s generosity is never a good sign. What’s he up to now? We walk to the elevator together. Matt is texting. Again, he has been doing that quite a bit this morning. He smiles and turns to me as we get inside. “The car is waiting for us downstairs,” he says.

I press the lobby button.
“Already?” 

“
They have been waiting for about twenty minutes,” he says.

They?
Who the blood hell are they? “Who’s they?” I ask.

“
The car.” He reaches for his ciggies. “And Johnny.”             

The elevator opens to the lobby. As soon as we get outside, he lights up. We get in the car and John is right there on his phone.

“Carosa restaurant please,” I tell the driver. “Hi, Johnny.”

“
About time you showed up,” John says. He puts the phone in his pocket. “I have a life too.”

“
Lucia’s fault, mate! She kept us there for three long hours,” Matt whines. I was wondering how long it would take before we hit that sour subject. I look at Matt; he of course looks very happy with his statement.

“
How’s the Cold War going?” John asks me.

“
Easier to handle if
Matt
wasn’t always trying to undercut us,” I tell John.

“
Oh, it’s my fault now?” Matt protests.

“
Let’s just put it this way,
mate
. Every time you pull a fast one on Lucia, you’re doing it to me too,” I tell him. “And that’s not right.”

“
Not right, mate. Not right at all,” John adds.

Matt doesn
’t say another word until we arrive at the restaurant and ask for a table in a private section. We order our food and drink without talking to each other. I’m still a little full from the muffins, but they have the best margarita pizza here. Matt and John share a pitcher of beer; I just need a glass of wine to relax a little. I still have a lot of work waiting for me back at the office.

A woman comes to our table, all smiles and blushing. I know where this is going.

“Hi, Matt. Could I please have your autograph?”

“
Sure, love,” Matt says, putting his most charming smile on. He takes the pad and pen from her hands. “And what is your name?”

“
Sally,” she giggles back, then looks around. “Is Beesly here too?”

“
Not at this moment,” he says. He starts writing. “To the new mustang Sally, Cheers Matt Marsh.”

Sally takes the pad back.

“Thank you so much. I can’t wait for the new album.”

“
We will be going on tour next winter. Stay tuned,” Matt tells her then kisses her hand and lets the giggly woman go.