It was a dark and stormy night, like the beginning of one of those cheesy detective novels that were always the cheapest in the airport bookstores. After countless long or delayed flights, Isaac had developed quite a liking for those sort of novels. On this particular night, he was dying for one of those old familiar, books. He was pretty sure, however, there wouldn’t be one anywhere to be found in the house they were staying in.
And what a house it was.
This recording getaway had been Taylor’s idea. Remy Black was a socialite friend of Taylor’s, someone he had met at one of those sleazy clubs he loved to go to, and Ike had to admit the guy had a certain weird charm about him. He was big in the music business, somehow, even though he didn’t really seem to do much aside from some songwriting and a radio show a few years back. Whatever he did, he had tons of money and a huge mansion that he rented, or loaned if you were lucky, to friends and acquaintances who needed a change of scenery to get an album recorded.
It had seemed like a great idea at first but now it was driving Isaac a bit stir crazy. Remy’s huge, plush library was well stocked, but mostly with obscure things like heavy volumes on religion and Russian literature – nothing mind numbing enough to interest him while they waited for some of their collaborators to arrive so that they could actually begin to work.
He finally settled for the lone Agatha Christie novel sandwiched between Pushkin and the Bhagavad Gita. Ike was quite certain he had read it before but it would still be just enough to numb his brain against Taylor’s whining about why everyone was late and Zac’s babbling on about whatever it was he usually babbled on about.
A particularly loud clap of thunder rocked the house just as Isaac tried to settle into a chair with his novel and he suddenly found it very hard to settle at all. When he was certain the mansion wasn’t going to come crashing down around him, he managed to cozy himself into the leather chair and opened the book to begin reading. He made it no further than the first paragraph when the library doors flew open and revealed a flurry of people gathered on the other side.
“Ike, there you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Remy called out as he ushered the crowd into the room.
Isaac slammed his book down on the table and sighed. So much for a little relaxing. He had really hoped this little get away would allow him for some downtime in addition to the recording, but it was looking less and less likely by the minute.
“Come on in, everyone,” Remy said. “Ike, these are the guys I was telling you about. Blaine Ochre, he’s the producer I introduced you to a while back, remember? You guys will get on great. And this is Rio Mulberry, he’s been dying to write with you guys.”
He mumbled a hello to both men then glanced over at Zac, who had followed them into the room. Zac offered Ike a small shrug and Isaac could tell by his frown that they were thinking the same thing. Neither man looked like they were particularly excited about the prospect of working with Hanson. He did remember Blaine, the stuffy old guy in a dorky tweed suit, from a press party for their last album, Underneath. Neither he nor his brothers had been impressed then either. And as for Rio, he looked like quite the character. Ike suspected Taylor had been the one to suggest that collaborator to Remy; anyone who wore a purple crushed velvet beret had to be the sort of guy Taylor wanted to befriend.
“I’ll leave you guys to it, then. I think Tay’s still downstairs getting to know Poppy…” Remy trailed off, a knowing smirk on his face.
Ike could only roll his eyes in response to that. He knew exactly what the implication was and it infuriated him to no end. Another fling was exactly what Taylor didn’t need to be having right then.
She was gorgeous. She was absolutely gorgeous. Taylor knew she had just asked him a question about the album, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.
“Taylor? Taylor? Anyone in there?” the woman named Poppy Carmine asked and Taylor could not peel his gaze away from her perfectly red lips.
“Of course,” Tay replied, running a hand through his hair in a move he knew made women and girls swoon. He had spent years fine tuning all those little mannerisms. “Just figuring out how to answer. It’s such a… complex record.”
“Naturally. You do seem like a… complex guy,” Poppy replied, offering Taylor a wide grin.
This was going to be a fun weekend, Taylor decided.
Zac was really trying to stay positive about this weekend. He had been excited about the weekend when Taylor first suggested it but now he was just sort of going along for the ride. If they were going to get any work done at all over the next two days, it would be a lot easier to keep his worries to himself and try to finish a song or two.
He shuffled across the library and settled into the chair nearest Isaac’s. It really wasn’t very comfortable but nothing in this big expensive place seemed to be. The two weirdos, Blaine and Rio, seemed right at home, however. They plopped down onto the remaining seats and Rio began questioning Ike about the song ideas they had brought with them. Blaine settled back and adopted that bored stare that Zac thought all producers must have studied long and hard to perfect.
With only the slightest prompting from Rio, Isaac was off on a ramble to beat all rambles. They had several songs in the works that he knew Isaac had been dying to discuss with someone. Zac was always more personal about his songs, preferring to keep the lyrics to himself until he was happy with them. So he kept his mouth shut and offered nods and laughs in the appropriate spots while Ike chattered on.
It wasn’t long before he was bored out of his mind and his attention drifted far away from the conversation at hand. He found himself staring at the pattern of the wood grain on the library door, trying to puzzle his way through the last level of the video game he had forgotten to bring with him. Not like he would have gotten a chance to play it, anyway. His attention was brought back to the room when the heavy door slowly swung open and a person he didn’t recognize appeared.
A petite, blonde in a black dress rapped her knuckles against the door and peaked her head around it timidly.
“Excuse me, Remy sent me in to ask if you guys wanted any refreshments? Drinks or anything?”
“Scotch on the rocks for me,” Blaine replied, and the other two mumbled their agreement.
Zac shook his head. “Just a soda for me is fine. Dr. Pepper if you’ve got it.”
“Oh, good,” the girl replied, finally walking fully into the room. She held a tray stacked with a variety of sodas perched precariously against her hip as she walked toward the small bar nestled against one wall of the room.
Zac couldn’t help watching her as she prepared their drinks. She looked very, very nervous and frazzled. He thought that was a bit strange since they were definitely not the first group of guests Remy had stay for a weekend, but maybe she was new on the job. She had to be young, he decided. Maybe a college student working to pay her way through school.
He felt a bit silly, but something about her just held his attention. The others didn’t even seem to notice as he stood and shuffled toward the bar where she still struggled to fix all of their drinks.
He coughed slightly to get her attention, regretting it as he watched a few drops of scotch spill over the edge of one of the glasses. Feeling completely ridiculous, he could think of nothing to say but, “Hi.”
“Hi,” the girl replied, only glancing briefly at Zac, then looking back down at the glasses, a faint blush covering her cheeks.
“Umm, I haven’t seen you around yet. Just figured I’d introduce myself. I’m Zac,” he said, fighting the urge to stick his hand out to her. Knowing him, he’d just knock over one of the drinks anyway.
“Remy likes for the help to stay out of the way,” she replied. “I’m Gwyn.”
“Well that’s not very nice. I’m sure you’re bored to death just fixing drinks for crazy musicians all the time.”
“You don’t look crazy,” she replied, finally recapping the scotch and looking up to take in Zac’s appearance. He could feel himself blushing a little as her eyes swept over him.
“Maybe I just hide it well.”
After a while, the group tired of the library and decided to move downstairs to the large ballroom, which Rio assured Isaac had superior acoustics to nearly any other part of the house, aside from the state of the art studio, of course. Ike could tell that Rio had spent a lot of time at the mansion, so he decided to trust his judgment and followed him down the stairs, guitar in hand.
When they arrived at the ballroom, which felt like it took ages given the size of the place, the soft sound of a piano already trickled out the door. Rio swung the door open and ushered them in with a flourish. Ike was not at all surprised that the piano player was none other than his brother Taylor, ever playing the part of Casanova. A woman dressed in red, whom he could only assume was Poppy, sat cozied up to Taylor on the bench as he played some new song to show off for her.
The woman giggled and tossed her head back as Taylor leaned in to whisper something in her ear, and the whole scene just made Isaac want to hurl.
He coughed loudly to attract Taylor’s attention. “Can we get started working some time tonight or is that too much to ask?”
“I am working, Ike,” Tay said, his brow furrowing slightly. “This is a new song. I was just letting Poppy hear it to get her opinion. Poppy, these two dorks are my brothers, Ike and Zac.”
“Well, you two grew up nice and handsome, didn’t you?” Poppy cooed, her smile making Isaac sick.
Zac rolled his eyes, looking just as thrilled with Poppy as Ike was. “Seriously, Tay. Let’s get some shit done. This is Blaine, the new producer, and this is –”
“Rio Mulberry,” he interjected, cutting Zac off and offering Taylor his hand. “We talked on the phone a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, right,” Taylor said, jumping up and leaving Poppy looking rather dejected and alone in the piano bench. Ike nearly laughed aloud at her ridiculous pout as Taylor enthusiastically greeted Rio. “It’s great to get the chance to work with you. It sounds like you’ve got some great ideas for us.”
“Good enough to steal,” Rio replied, a strange look flashing in his eyes for just a second. Isaac didn’t think anyone else had noticed it, but he had. It always seemed he picked up on little things like that which no one else seemed to notice. If he could just figure out what it meant, maybe the skill would actually be useful.
Taylor suddenly turned back to the woman he had abandoned and leaned down to speak directly to her. He was really laying the charm on thick. “How would you like to join us in the studio and get some exclusive material on our recording process?”
“Ooh, that sounds fantastic. I’d love to see you guys… up close and personal,” she replied, her eyes sparkling.
Isaac had had enough. At this rate, they would never get any work done. He grabbed Taylor by the arm and, although Taylor was arguably the larger one, managed to drag him into the corridor with little trouble.
“What the hell, Ike?” Taylor yelped as Ike drug him further still, around a corner and out of earshot of anyone who had just witnessed their exit.
“You need to turn off the hormones this weekend, Tay. This is getting ridiculous.”
“What are you talking about? It was just a little harmless flirting,” Taylor replied, yanking his arm back out of Isaac’s grasp and smoothing his shirt back down.
“Sure, it’s just a little harmless flirting,” Isaac said, growing more irritated with his brother. “But you know you can’t stop there, and it’s gonna make this weekend hell. We’re here to work, for Christ’s sake. Not to pick up chicks.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll back off a little,” Taylor huffed, then stormed off.
Isaac rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall. This was going to be a long, long weekend. He just hoped that they managed to actually accomplish some songwriting and maybe even record one track. That would be enough for him. But at the rate things were going, even that didn’t look very likely.
The studio was mercifully quiet and empty. The person pulled the door shut behind them slowly, being careful not to let a single sound give away their presence. Once the door was closed, they flipped the light switch and observed the surroundings. Rolling thunder was barely audible through the room’s soundproofing, the only sound that could be heard at all.
For a moment, the figure stood still, contemplating. What they needed was certainly in this room somewhere, but where to begin? They eyed a row of guitars displayed across one wall. Perhaps a guitar string… but no, that would be too difficult. Too much strength required to make that work.
Long, thin fingers ran across the switchboard that controlled the expensive studio equipment. If only they knew a way to electrocute someone. Surely a studio full of so much electronic equipment would be the ideal place. But that would probably be too loud.
Nothing seemed quite right, yet the perfect tool just had to be in this room somewhere.
Finally, their eyes settled on it. A microphone stand poised in the middle of the recording booth, its cord snaking across the floor. That cord would be much easier to use than a guitar string, that was for certain. The person stepped forward, into the booth and took the cord in their hands. It felt just right in their hands. Yes, this would do.
The perfect murder weapon. The perfect way to finally rid the world of Remy Black.