La Vie En Rose

“Soo...what am I looking at here?”

I was now standing in front of John’s car with one hand resting on the strap of my bag. After John put Sally back in his house, he walked back out onto his driveway and stopped next to me.

“A 1960’s Mercedes sedan.” He answered with a tint of admiration in his voice.

“Does it work?” I asked, warily eyeing the car. It looked more like an antique than a working machine. In fact, it looked older than my own grandmother.

“Gigi, this is a classic piece of the 1960’s Mercedes Benz collection!” John walked over to the hood and grazed the black, shiny exterior carefully, “My grandfather gave it to me last summer. I think he finally realized that keeping it in a garage for so long wasn’t doing it justice.”

“But...does it work?” I asked again.

He laughed, pulled out his keys and walked over to the driver’s side, “Trust me, it works. Now get in.”

Sitting in this car made me feel like I had travelled back to the 1950’s. Or I somehow got myself stuck in the movie Grease. Everything about this car was vintage. The bright red leather seats, the larger than usual creme-colored steering wheel with the Mercedes logo and the dashboard , filled with little white knobs.

“You can only get the full experience of this car ride,” John said as we pulled out of our neighborhood, “if the windows are down and the music is loud.”

“What are you waiting for?” I asked as I leaned back in the passenger seat, pulling out my aviator sunglasses from my bag, “Let’s do this.”

The song ‘Enter Galactic’ by Kid Cudi took over the speakers and the windows were down within seconds. Strands of my hair whipped furiously past my face as we pulled onto the highway. I happily crossed my legs and tapped my fingers to the beat of the song. Usually, I’m singing along loudly when Kid Cudi was playing in a car but John made me nervous. It didn’t properly hit me yet that I was in his car until that very moment. Who knew my day would end up like this? I looked over at him, making sure I wasn’t imagining all this. He was nodding his head along to the music while he had one hand on the wheel and the other leaning against the frame of the door. The wind ruffled up his mahogany-colored hair lightly. When I looked at him, the word ‘model’ came to mind. I could seriously just take a picture of him right now and it would look like an advert for Ralph Lauren.

I digress.

John took an exit off the highway and drove towards the city. We drove right past it and turned onto a more stranded road. Desert was suddenly all around us. I wanted to ask him where we were going but I knew he wouldn’t answer me, so I kept my mouth closed grudgingly.

We eventually turned into a large parking lot (which, may I add, was only filled with three other cars) where a great, two-story building with a limited amount of tinted windows stood. I starred, trying to figure out where the FUCK we were.

John parked the car next to a red volvo and turned off the engine. He gave me one glance before unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. I hesitated for a moment before following his actions.

“Have you brought me here to kill me?” I inquired as I closed the door behind me, adjusting the shoulder strap of my bag while I looked around at the openness, “Because I’m too young to die. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to my family. I haven’t even tried drugs yet!”

He laughed and shook his head, “You have one crazy imagination, Gigi.” He walked up to the tinted door and opened it for me, “Come on, they’re waiting for us.”

Who? I thought. He waited patiently, with the door open. I walked up onto the path and stopped in front of the door.

“After you.” He insisted. I walked in and slowly took my sunglasses off.

I was met with a long hallway. I balanced my sunglasses on top of my head as I took in my surroundings. Navy carpeting, purple painted walls covered in band posters and florescent lighting on the ceiling. What on earth...

“This way.” John instructed as he put his hand on the small of my back. The hairs on the back of my neck instantly stood up at the contact of John’s hand. I merely nodded, letting him direct me down the hallway. We finally stopped at a wooden door.

“Hey!” John called when we walked in, “We’re here!”

“God, finally!” A familiar voice called back, “Typical John Oh, being late as usual. We’ve been here for ages man!”

I looked past John’s shoulder and noticed Garrett and the rest of the rest of The Maine sitting in a sound-proofed room. In the room, there was a large, no, massive, soundboard with a bunch of little buttons that were flashing green and red. In front of the soundboard equipment, there was a wide window that looked into another room that held a couple of instruments and a microphone. A bald and bulky man sat patiently in front of the soundboard with a pair of headphones at hand.

Oh, he took me to a recording studio.

“Gigi!” Kennedy called with amazement, “What are you doing here?”

“I picked her up at the park.” John stated with a smile. Wow, he made it sound like I was a stray.

“Hey guys.” I waved, grinning at all of them.

“So, what did I miss?” John asked as Garrett patted the empty seat next to him. I gratefully took the offer and sat beside him.

“We just finished up the guitar recordings for the last two songs.” Jared informed him, “It’s time for vocals.”

“Yeah!” Kennedy piped up while he rolled around on one the office chairs, “So get your ass in there so we can finish this EP up already.”

“Alright, alright!” John replied before opening the door that led to the other room. The man in front of the soundboard put his headphones on and pressed a couple of buttons.

“What are you guys recording anyways?” I asked Garrett quietly, afraid that if I spoke too loudly, I would annoy the soundboard guy, “A new CD?”

“Christmas EP.” Garrett corrected me, “Our label thought it would be a good idea. We obliged, of course, even though it costs over $200 for every hour we’re in here.”

“Wow, that’s pricey.” I responded.

“It’s coming out of their pockets, not ours.” Kennedy joined in, “Sucks to be them, ha!”

“Just whenever, John.” The soundboard guy spoke into his little mike.

“Ready.” John responded, his voice traveling through the speakers in the room we were sitting in.

The acoustic guitars started, a previous recording I assumed since the rest of the band members were sitting in the room I was in. I sat quietly, watching John with curiosity. He had headphones over his ears and nodded his head along with the music. His cue was coming up, so he bent over the mike slightly and started singing.

“It’s Christmas day, I’m alone again,” John’s sultry voice sang soothingly along with the song, “She’s with him now, I’m with my loneliness. She ran away, four months ago, left his slay, for the North Pole.”

I sat there in complete awe. Without the screaming fans and poor microphone reverb back at the Ray club, his voice was absolutely captivating. I didn’t actually realize his voice was that beautiful.

I was starting to get butterflies just listening to him. The other guys, however, didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. Garrett was texting on his phone with a bored expression while Kennedy and Pat were kicking each other with their feet. Jared just ate a bag of Doritos while he stood next to the guy who was recording John’s voice.

“Done!” Jared yelled loudly to no one in particular when we got outside. His arms were raised above his head, “Thank God! Finished!”

A couple of re-do’s and tweakings later, and we were finally finished. The soundboard guy promised the band he would send them the final songs when he finished editing them. With a final thank you, we all walked back to the cars. I was absolutely relieved when Pat suggested we all meet up at a Chilies downtown - I was utterly starving.

“Sorry if that was boring for you.” John said suddenly as we hopped back into his car.

“What?” I asked in complete shock, “John, I thought that was really cool! Excellent, even. I wasn’t bored in the slightest.”

“Really?” He asked, looking over at me for a response. I nodded quickly.

“Good.” He smiled. We were backing out now and following Garrett’s red volvo out of the parking lot, “Because I’m going to be honest with you, I brought you out here to...well, to impress you.”

I sat silently, digesting his words carefully. To impress me. Impress me. Was I reading too much into this? A rush of butterflies filled my stomach, my cheeks burning red. I quickly gulped and responded.

“Well it worked.” I said slyly, trying to hide the nervous quiver in my voice.

And with that, we rolled the windows down and turned the Kid Cudi cd back on.