Playing guitar had never been Abbi’s strong suit but today she was making an exception to play around recording some acoustic solo stuff. She loved playing with Seth and the guys but this would give her a chance to stretch her voice in a different way than her usual punk style performances. She’d booked herself an hour at Nightengale Studios just so that she could play around with a few new sounds-Abbi didn’t care if anything came of it she just wanted to see if she could handle being in a studio again.
Fingers moving across the guitars frets Abbi strummed the opening chords to the song she’d picked-surprisingly enough by Kelly Clarkson. If anyone asked her though Abbi would have denied that fact and mention only the songwriters behind the track-she had a reputation to uphold. When she started singing her voice was raspy and low, “You’re not worth it babe…the trouble you bring-the noise you keep. And you don’t even care…”
Closing her eyes Abbi continued along with the lyrics, “Yeah. I’m so sick of you babe-nights wasted on through faking. You don’t turn me on…” her voice grew a bit more horse with emotion as she thought of her struggle with substance abuse, “You don’t do anything at all. Baby, I can’t stand the sight of your face. Baby, I don’t even wanna hear your name…”
Now as she strummed the guitar Abbi used the flat of her hand to slap the instruments body giving the illusion of percussion, “Don’t know what I saw…but I’m not seeing it now. Woke up this morning a bitter taste in my mouth. Guess I fell too fast-guess I learned my lesson. So much for true love…I’ll take the Chivas instead. Oh…I’ll take the Chivas instead…”
As she continued singing Abbi was lost in her own world paying no attention to anything going on around her.
Ky smirked, the head piece clipped to his ear giving him nothing but static as he made his way down from the roof. Not that the static was a bad thing, it was and it wasn't. It meant he didn't have to listen to his father snarl at him for forgetting mothers day. It also meant that if he didn't play his cards right then not only would he have to deal with one of the elder Stephens, he would also have to deal with the whole clan when they started calling demanding to know why a good catholic boy like him wasn't respecting his elders. That said, it didn't matter weather or not they thought of him as a Stephen. He wasn't and neither was Julian thanks to the lycanthrope virus running through their veins, for the brothers it was a closer bond dismissing the one of the family that had shunned them privately all the while back in Ireland. For the family of hooligans and strong-blooded Catholics, it was a way to get money without doing their own damned work.
Sighing, the leopard ran a hand through his hair pulling it out from his eyes. He needed to run but the whole business took up nearly all his time while Julian made friendly with the wolves. All good in the end but it got in his craw when he was left with all the paper work and waiting on studio equipment. Dark brown eyes zoned in on the coffee maker and the first real smile for the week lit his face. He was no further from getting Julian to meet Seth and Abbi then when he had started a while back, if it wasn’t one thing it was another and deep down he was bone sick of playing the middle man. Visions of locking the wolf in a storage unit with the lion made him grin as he made his coffee adding sugar and a little bit of milk into the cup. If it hadn’t been the fact he was on the straight and narrow and had been for a long time, he would have locked both artists into someplace so they could meet.
“At least we’re open…that’s the main thing,” he muttered to himself catching the sound of a distinct guitar, talent in the making he mused as he followed the sound. In three weeks since Nightingale studios had opened, small time bands had come and gone or just solo artists and more then half of them from his point of view had no talent. Abbi did though he noticed slipping into the small office opposite the only occupied studio. It was hard not to recognize the woman and he’d always been good with faces…most of the time, let alone the fact that he’d seen her enter from the bloody roof. Unclipping the earpiece he put his coffee down on the desk and left the room, the studios where soundproofed to a degree but that still didn’t stop him from opening the door and leaning in. He was hard to miss, black jeans slashed at the knee on the left leg, white pirate shirt open at the neck and biker boots, “You ok in here Abbi?....”
When she didn’t seem to hear him, he sighed and slipped into the room fully. He really didn’t want to do it, but having been submitted to a fatherly interrogation he was just in one of those moods. The door swung over and before it closed, his foot connected with it slamming it back causing quite a bang. What could he say? He was a bastard some days and would apologize but since he had more work to do and Theo, the other member of staff that should have been around had gone to the locale hospital as his girlfriend had gone into labor, he wanted to check on the human.