Page 15 of In This Together

Using her tissue, she pressed down on the handle of the door to the sound booth, which stuck as she pushed, pushed and pushed again, eventually stumbling into the room on her high heels.

‘Ros, are you okay?’ Sofia asked, standing from her leather stool in front of the room-width mixing board.

Rosalie waved away her blushes. ‘You need to give this place a facelift, sweetie.’

‘Top of my list when we strike gold, Ros,’ Sofia said in good humour, though Rosalie had been entirely serious.

Everything from the dark wood old-style mixing board to the chipped laminate flooring that screamed 1990s, to the tatty leather sofa that wasn’t helped by beer bottles sitting in holsters on the arm rests, to a lingering smell of cigarette smoke – it all needed a refresh. Nevertheless, Rosalie wasn’t here in her capacity as an interior designer; she was here to learn.

She kissed Sofia on the cheek and held up a hand to Sofia’s father, Jimmy, who she wasn’t surprised to see. Despite retiring six years earlier, Jimmy had music in his blood, like his daughters.

‘How’re you doing, darling?’

‘I’m good, thanks, Jimmy,’ Rosalie said, looking around between the sofa and the spare stool between Sofia’s and Jimmy’s, wondering which would be least likely to leave a stain on her two-thousand-dollar dress.

Through the glass wall of the room, Rosalie saw the source of the country music she was hearing as three men played, one of them singing, in the studio beyond.

‘So, you said you had a favour to ask?’ Sofia said, returning to her stool and pulling one knee into her chest.

‘Oh, mmm, yes,’ Rosalie said, forgetting the state of the worn leather in her excitement and taking a seat on the sofa. ‘It’s very exciting. So, Daddy is giving me my own label at XM.’

She tried not to be irritated by the scrunching of Sofia’s brow, followed by the raising of her eyebrow in the direction of Jimmy, choosing to believe it was confusion.

She wafted a hand. ‘Let me take a step back. I’m going to be in the music business now. You know, I have experience, what with running my design projects and things, and I’m ready for a new life challenge, you know? So Daddy said I could have my own label, but there’s a catch. First, I have to get a little more experience in the industry, behind the scenes stuff.’

‘Ah, and that’s where I come in?’ Sofia asked.

Rosalie smiled. ‘If you’ll have me, I would like to be, like, your apprentice, or understudy even, for, maybe a couple of months, until I really get the hang of all the’ – she gestured to the mixing board and the hundreds of nodules and flashing lights – ‘digits and gadgets.’

Jimmy chuckled, stealing Rosalie’s attention. ‘Darling, it’s going to take longer than two months to crack music production. It’s not just something you do with these,’ he said, holding up his hands and wiggling his fingers. ‘It’s what you hear with these.’ He tugged his ear lobes. ‘And what you feel in here.’ He held a closed fist to his chest.

‘Sure,’ Rosalie said. ‘I totally get that. But will you show me a few things, Soph?’

Sofia shrugged. ‘Ah, yeah, sure.’

At that moment, the music coming from the studio stopped. Sofia turned on her stool, pushed a button and said, ‘Great job, guys. Come on out and we’ll listen back to it.’

Moments later, two session players Rosalie recognised and a tall, buffer than average, scruffier than average man with the bluest eyes she had ever seen stepped into the sound booth.

‘You smashed it, guys,’ Sofia told them, giving each of them an unladylike fist bump.

Jimmy stood and went to the scruffy blue-eyed guy and said, ‘My daughter told me you were good, son. She wasn’t wrong.’

As the men did variations of fist bumps, back slaps and handshakes, Rosalie stood from the sofa, straightening her dress, and subtly cleared her throat.

‘Guys, this is Rosalie,’ Sofia said. ‘Billy, Frankie, you might remember Ros, she used to come here a lot when?—’

‘Yeah, I do. The cupcake lady,’ Frankie said, winking distastefully.

Rosalie smiled. ‘Well, cupcakes were very on trend a few years back. We’re really in more of a veggie phase now but I’m sure I can find some treats for you guys over the next couple of months. I’m going to be hanging out here, whilst Sofia shows me the ropes.’

The exchanges of questioning looks didn’t escape Rosalie’s attention, but Billy said, ‘Well, nice to have you onboard, Ros. I, personally, am a carnivore, though I can make an exception for waffles.’

Rosalie giggled. ‘I’ll remember that.’ As she did, she looked around the five other people in the room and it occurred to her that every one of them wore some variation of ripped stonewash jeans – some intentionally ripped, others not – dirty boots or sneakers and flannel shirts. ‘This, erm, isn’t a compulsory uniform, is it?’

As the others laughed, Rosalie’s panic was alleviated because she had been truly concerned that she might have to dress like them to ‘fit in’.

‘Phew,’ she said, wiping her brow.

---