Page 73 of Reverb
He would have said more, but there was a flurry of activity in the studio, and a check of the clock showed it close to the top of the hour. Interview time.
There was a goofy intro to the morning show, then the hosts acted upbeat and irreverent before they introduced Twisted Wishes. The band all gave a round of hellos, and from the smiles, everything was going the way it should. Songs were played. Commercials. The hosts asked several questions about the new album.
One host, Morning Coffee Clark, turned to Zavier. “This is your first album as a member of Twisted Wishes. How’d it go? Were you prepared? How’d it feel?”
That led to a very amused laugh from the drummer. “It was a phenomenal experience, of course it was.”
There was a general murmur of agreement from the rest of the band.
“As for being prepared, touring before recording helped, my relationship with Ray notwithstanding.” He paused. “And it feltgood. Kevin Schmidt was a great drummer, extremely competent, but our styles are different, so it was nice to get into the studio and make my own mark on the sound.”
“Beyond the one you made touring,” Ray said.
“Well, yes.” Zavier’s smile was sharp and personal and aimed at Ray.
Questions about the album continued, then they turned to Domino’s reveal of his non-persona side.
“So what was that like?” asked the other host—Amy in the AM, if David recalled her moniker correctly. She had a mellow voice that was smooth, with a hint of sultry. “Letting the fans see behind the mask?”
Domino—in his makeup—never lost that sharp edge to his smile. “It’s not a mask.” His voice was not nearly as smooth as the hosts’. There was a gravel in it David hadn’t heard before. “It’s part of who I am, as much as my more private life is.” The bark of Domino’s laugh was normal, though. “After all, it’s not like I could dress like this at a desk job. I get to wear what I want, when I want. Leather, glitter, and all.”
Beside him, Adrian was nodding, probably unconsciously. “You tell ’em, babe.”
There was a little more banter about glitter getting everywhere and whether the band shared makeup—they did—before they moved on to Mish.
Clark chimed in. “Mish, these past couple of concerts, you’ve been singing with Ray! How’d that come about?”
Mish’s laugh was deep and David sat up straighter to cover the growing heat in his body.
“I began my career singing and playing in bars. That’s how Ray found me. But many of our earlier songs weren’t in my range—”
“Or were me musically yelling into the mic,” Ray chimed in.
Mish nodded, though no one listening on air could see that. “Exactly, so they weren’t right for my voice. But ‘Finding Light’ is one I sing along with all the time when we practice—”
“And I’m not a fool,” Ray said.
“Honey, sometimes you are.”
There was laughter from all the band and the hosts.
“Fine, I’ll grant you that,” Ray said.
Mish looked through the hall and met David’s gaze, the giant black headphones stark against her copper curls. “Sometimes we try new things. This one worked.”
This one worked. Yeah, they worked. David worked with the band. Still, a voice said that getting in this deep would make Mish vulnerable.
“Ray, are you going to write a song for Mish?” Amy asked.
The whole band shifted in their seats. “Been toying with the idea.” Ray’s voice had a slyness to it.
Mish’s smile was just as sneaky. “We’ll see.”
“I can see we’re not going to get more about that!” Clark had one of those performer smiles, the ones that lifted your voice but were too exaggerated to be real. “Let’s play ‘Dare to Be’ from your album, and when we come back, we’ll take a few calls from listeners.”
The hosts rattled off the phone number to call, then music started.
“So far, so good,” Marcella said.
