A Helping Hand

Indy had been working half days with Brian in the lead up to the completion of recording. Brian stayed at the studio after their early morning sessions to micro-manage Johnny while he finished tracking his bass parts and Indy tended to go out and grab some lunch, delivering it back to the studio before she headed home for the day.

This morning she and Brian were re-tracking The Wicked End to tighten up the intro and the verses. Now they had added Johnny’s bassline in the mix, they noticed that the harmonies were slightly sloppy and could use some more TLC.

“I think we should try playing at the same time,” Brian suggested. They had each retracked their parts of the intro, but ended up having the exact same tempo and feel of the original take.

“Worth a shot,” Indy agreed, nodding along while she deleted her last take and set up another two tracking bars. She held her hand out for Brian’s lead to plug into the EQ. “Ok, I am also just going to put on a little tiny bit of distortion while we track.”

“And pump up the mids,” Brian added, agreeing with her suggestion. Indy nodded and did a she was instructed.

Once she had set the tracks as she needed, she organised the playback to count 4 beats before the start of the recording. This time she was also including the actual drum and bass tracks to sound rather than just the click track. She was hoping this would create more of a ‘live’ feeling which would help the guitarists finally nail the timing and fit of the guitar lines.

“Ready?” She asked Brian, and took his nod as approval to start the track.

Brian didn’t bother to retrack the guitar squeals at the beginning of the song, it wasn’t necessary as it fit perfectly as is. Once the squeals ceased, Indy and Brian leapt into the first of many harmonised sections. The first section they played perfectly, simultaneously nodding their heads along as they repeated the motif. As soon as the melody changed, Indy missed the cue and fumbled moving her fingers and pick to the high E string.

“Fuck,” she cursed, tossing her head back and sighing. “Sorry.”

“Let’s go again,” Brian said, shrugging off her apology. God knows he had made his fair share of mistakes.

The pair started from the same point, nailing the first section again and continuing through the second melody line. It was all going well until Indy played the wrong part, forgetting the motif repeated once more. Instead, she had started to play the rhythm of the verse.

“Mother fucker!” She growled. She was annoyed with herself how much she was fucking up in one small section. “Let’s go again.”

This time the pair barely made it through the first two bars before Indy once more screwed up.

“God fucking damn it!” Indy yelled, frustrated at her stupid mistakes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Wordlessly, she set up again. Failing so consistently was starting to embarrass her. She hated wasting time with stupid mistakes. It wasn’t like she couldn’t play the phrase, she had played it many times while learning and recording the original track.

“One, two, three, four,” she counted down, the pair once more starting to re-record the intro.

The pair played through once more to the melody change before Indy screwed up again.

“Slide to 13 Indy!” she said to herself, sighing loudly. She looked over at Brian who was slightly smirking at her. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say a word,” he replied, holding his hands up in an ‘I’m innocent’ pose.

“You didn’t need to,” she replied, glaring at him. “One, two, three, four.”

They started again, playing as soon as the guitar squeals stopped. For the 5th time, Indy played the wrong thing.

“Fucking stupid shit mother fucker!” She yelled, swearing at herself and pushing back hard on her wheelie chair. It ran into the wall behind them, leaving a small dent and a red mark from the fabric of the chair. She let out one more rough growl before coming back to the control panel.

She reset the computer to start recording again, but before she did, she made sure to take a deep breath. She tried to clear her mind, making it blank before she needed to try recording again. Her recording technique relied a lot on muscle memory, her fingers playing what her brain told them to on a subconscious level.

“One, two, three, four,” she repeated herself, playing the backing track for the guitarists.

They played the first motif, Indy correctly playing what she needed. In the second melody, Indy remembered the slide to 13, not to 12, and played the repeat in harmony with Brian.

“Sixth time is the fucking charm,” she mumbled as they stopped playing once the intro had concluded. Though they could have continued into recording the verse, they had decided to play piece by piece to make sure the new tracks would be coherent with the bass line.

She hit play back, Brian and Indy listening to the updated guitar track. They both nodded along for the 20 bars they had just recorded, each intently listening out for any red flags. Once the play back had finished, Indy looked to Brian, awaiting to see if he approved or not.

“That was good,” he said, breaking the silence. “Let’s go one more for safety.”

“Ok if we have to,” Indy agreed, holding in her eye roll and sigh. She centred herself once more while setting up two new tracks and muting those they had just recorded.

“The more we play it, the tighter it will get,” Brian told her, explaining his reasoning.

“Only if I don’t keep fucking up,” she replied, the comment full of the self-hatred she had at the moment. She was better than how she was currently playing, and they both knew it.

“We all have our days,” Brian replied, putting his hand on her bicep and squeezing lightly. Her attention returned to him and she smiled warmly at the gesture.

“I guess so,” she said, biting back a sarcastic comment that was on the tip of her tongue. “OK, ready? One, two, three, four.”

Once more the duo played the intro, both guitarists getting through it without screwing up again. Brian noticed Indy sit up a little straighter once the recording had stopped, and he could tell she was pleased with herself for making it through another take without screwing up.

Indy set up the play back, eager to hear if the take was much different to their last. Almost as soon as the first repeat came in, she could tell that Brian was right and the take felt a lot tighter. That was exactly the feel they needed to capture for the rest of the song.

“Say it,” Brian told her, a smug smile on his face. She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t help smile at his childishness.

“You were right,” she admitted, waving him off.

“I can’t hear you,” he sang, getting in as much gloating as he could.

“You. Were. Right,” she replied, annunciating each word as clearly as she could. The shit-eating grin on his face made her laugh.

“Now we can play it again!” He cheered, making Indy actually scoff and hit him.

“You are the worst,” she complained. Regardless of her words, she mirrored her earlier actions and started two new tracks. “One, two, three, four.”

Once more they played the intro flawlessly and in sync with one another. This take sounded even more cohesive with the bass line than the last, and they took this as a sign to track once more, but this time to run through the entire song. All 7 minutes 10 seconds of it.

As Indy chugged out the final chords, the pair looked at each other, not needing to verbalise to one another that they had finally perfected the song.

“Did that just happen?” Indy asked, astounded at the success after a morning of fuck ups.

“Yes it fucking did,” Brian confirmed, cheering. He would never say it out loud, be he was just as surprised that Indy had played the doing flawlessly. He was in awe how quickly she had pulled herself out of her slump.

She started the play back once again, setting her guitar down and leaning over in her seat so she was focused on the floor. She found that taking away her other senses helped her listen to the music on a deeper level, being able to pick up the little nuances and flairs that Brian tended to add to his playing.

She was surprised how much playing the parts through again actually helped the song. When they had listened to the track yesterday, it was technically good, but was just missing that little something that made it feel like an Avenged Sevenfold song. The new version had taken on a new life, and it almost felt as if the song was brand new. It was definitely one of her favourites now.

“I still can't get over that solo, Bri,” Indy commented once the song had played. She would forever be in awe of his talent. “It is so god damn intricate, but so emotive.”

“It only feels that way because it transitions into the softer section,” he replied, shrugging off the compliment.

“You're full of shit,” she told him. “It is beautiful. And that dive at the end… so good!”

“Well thanks,” he said, putting his guitar down. “I think it's time for a smoke before we get too touchy feely on here.”

“You wish you could ‘touchy feely’,” Indy laughed, winking at him.

The bond the two guitarists shared had strengthened over the past week with their early morning recording sessions. As they were the only two in the studio from 7-9am, they had a lot of time to not only record, but to talk and muck around while doing so. Indy was now confident enough in their relationship that she was able to joke more sassily with him, and she knew he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

“Maybe if you weren't so full of yourself,” Brian countered, getting up from his seat and opening the door to the main recording room. It was only 8am, so it was only Mudrock in the room stationed in front of the control panel with a pair of headphones on. He didn't even notice the guitarists walk behind him through to the outside world.

“I've told you before, I'll tell you again,” Indy started, “that excuses are just a coping mechanism.”

“And I will reply in the same way,” Brian retaliated, “I will never run out of excuses.”

Indy laughed at him as they got outside and started to head towards the designated smoking area.

“You know how to make a girl feel loved,” she said sarcastically. Brian just smirked before putting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He took a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before he exhaled. The pair sat at the table outside, enjoying the early morning warmth.

“If I wanted to make the moves on you, you wouldn't stand a chance,” he told her, pushing his sunglasses down from the top of his head to shield his eyes. “No one is impervious to my charm.”

“Synyster 'Cocky’ Gates has arrived,” she retorted, announcing his alter ego.

“Cocky for a reason,” Brian quipped, pointing his cigarette at her.

Indy could help but laugh at the response, enjoying the playful banter between the two. She was starting to feel entirely too comfortable with the band. It was going to be awful leaving them once the recording was finished.

“What's all the fun over here?” A deep voice asked them, breaking the atmosphere between Brian and Indy. The looked up to see Matt and Zacky walking over to them, the two about 6 feet away.

“Just explaining to Indy why 'cocky’ isn't the insult she thinks it is,” Brian replied, taking another inhale of smoke as he winked at his bandmates. He had to lift up his sunglasses to get the wink across, but he thought it was well worth the effort.

Indy rose to her feet, but not before hitting Brian lightly on the arm for his remark. She walked over and gave Matt a hug as a greeting before moving on to Zacky. As she stepped back, she noticed the intensity being Matt's gaze. She blushed at the attention and cleared her throat.

“Uh, I'm going to get coffee. You guys want anything?” She asked, eager to run away from Matt.

Ever since their honest conversation at the very table she currently stood in front of, she hadn't been able to separate her emotional side from her business side with him. He was holding her deepest secret, and there was no way her brain was letting her forget it. She had managed to avoid him for most of the week, only having to say goodbye around midday after she and Brian emerged from their recording cocoon.

“The usual,” Brian requested, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out in the ash tray. He took advantage of the time he had out of the studio and lit another.

“Same,” Matt requested. He had noticed the slight change in Indy after their conversation, but understood why she felt so uneasy around him. She had been a hard one to crack, and he knew she wouldn't have told him if he hadn't kept pestering her.

“I'll help,” Zacky said, smiling at Indy. She tried to keep calm at his words, her attention still on Matt. She saw a faint glimmer of a smile grace his pierced lip before he got it under control.

“It's ok, thanks though,” she told Zacky, trying to smile reassuringly. “I can manage.”

“I don't mind,” he replied, shrugging. “I am not going to be helpful in there.”

Indy sighed quietly. He knew how to play her without even noticing. As soon as he started to say self-deprecating things, she wanted to step in and make him feel better.

“Ok,” she agreed, looking to the ground. “Let's go.”

Zacky waved goodbye to his bandmates, not seeing the quick look that transpired between Indy and Matt before they walked through the parking lot towards Indy's favourite cafe. Subconsciously, Zacky walked closer to Indy, standing on her right side. A short laugh escaped her lips as Zacky said something Matt and Brian could not hear.

The pair watched them walk away silently, each with their own thoughts swimming around their heads.

“Is it just me, or do they look cute together?” Brian asked Matt, staring at the retreating figures of his best friend and the girl who helped change their lives.

“Yeah, they do,” Matt confirmed, not being able to wipe the smile off his face.