I'm Dancing on the Ceiling

“Business” turned out to be talking about publication stuff. It unfortunately took way too long and I had to run to the studio. I crashed into that same guy as yesterday and he actually chuckled.

“We seriously have to stop meeting like this,” he joked, keeping me standing by holding my elbow gently. He let me go when I was upright.

“I gotta. I gotta go,” I stumbled over my words and opened the door to my studio, slipping inside.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Clary,” Ian joked.

“Not a ghost, no.”

“Then what?”

“A Gaskarth,” I mumbled and sank into a chair.

“Alex? Yeah, All Time Low is in the studio across the hall. Did I not mention that? I meant to,” Ian said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” I mumbled.

“Want to meet your studio band?” Ian changed the subject.

“Yes!”

“Well, they’re behind you.”

I turned to face the recording space. Three guys sat, one with a bass, one with an electric guitar and the last behind the drum kit. Ian led me into the space to meet them.

“Clary, this is Harry, David and Bennett.”

Harry turned out to be the bassist. He had dirty blonde hair and wide brown eyes. Everything about him, from his clean white trainers to his chubby face screamed innocence. He was full of smiles and a good joke, I soon learned.

David and Bennett were identical twins. David was the guitarist, while Bennett was the drummer. While they were identical with their wild dark brown mops of hair and sparkling blue eyes, their tall frames and long limbs, that’s where the resemblances end. David was shy, reserved and a genius. He only spoke when it was absolutely necessary and had the best ideas. Then there was Bennett. Bennett, who preferred to be called Ben, was loud, obnoxious, a trouble maker and a jokester. He liked making a mess of things and leaving someone else to clean it up.

“Guys, this is Clary Bowen. She’s your master for the next couple of weeks. Do as she says when it comes to songs, and try not to fuck up,” Ian said. He quickly smiled, and excused himself to the bathroom.

“Bowen. I’ve heard that name before,” Bennett said.

“Jess Bowen, from The Summer Set. No relation.”

“Yeah. Her. She’s gorgeous,” he replied dreamily. I chuckled and sat down in a chair.

“I’m trusting you guys, not to fuck up my songs. Okay? Because if you do, I will hurt each one of you in a very slow tortuous manner that will have you begging you for death.”

Harry and David’s eyes widened, while Ben smiled.

“That’s my kinda girl right there,” he said to his twin, pointing at me.

“Keep it in your pants,” David warned.

“What? I didn’t say I wanted to fuck her! I’m just saying she’s my idea of how a girl should be,” Ben shot back. Harry looked a bit appalled at the situation.

“How’s that?” I asked Ben.

“Feisty,” he responded.

“Well, I got plenty of feist right here for ya,” I said, gesturing down my little body.

“Is feist a word?” Harry piped up.

“No. Not technically. But I don’t care. I’m Clary fucking Bowen! I can make up my own words and no one can stop me. Ha!”

“Huzzah!” Ben called. I laughed and pulled out my phone.

ClaryBowen Met my studio band. Three solid dudes. This is gonna be good.