Chapter 37

                                    

                                              
   Adam glanced at his watch. 12:07am. Amy was probably home by now, sleeping. But he wasn't. He couldn't. Not until he kicked out another song. He knew he had it in him. He had to get it out, otherwise it would drive him insane.
                          
   One energy drink down, plenty more to consume. Adam sat in the studio lounge, bent over a mess of scrap paper and sheet music. James sat across from him on the other three-seater couch, hugging his guitar against his rib cage. He was testing out various chords, trying to get a decent tune going. His finger placement bounced up and down the neck of the acoustic; The strings squeaked a little as he changed frets. 
                          
   After Amy had left his house that morning, Adam had called the band together for a studio session. It was the first time that they had gotten together since Adam had called for a break, almost a month ago. That morning he had realized that his break was over, and he needed to continue with his career. Without it, he was lost.

                          
   The band had spent most of the day working on some of Adam's previous song ideas, and with some shared thoughts and views from the rest of the guys, they were able to create a quick demo of the song which was titled "Lost Stars". That accomplished, the guys hung out for a couple of hours to catch up on things in their lives. Adam filled in the rest of the band on the situation with Amy, which was met with much support and sympathetic stories of their own past encounters with previous girlfriends. It was good to have a laugh with them, but Adam knew that the only way he could heal was to write. 
                          
   At about eight o'clock that evening, Adam let the band go for the night. 
                          
   "You guys can go get some rest, I think I'll stay here a while longer," he had said. The boys complied and wished each other a good night and congratulated each other for what they had accomplished that day. James on the other hand, stayed behind. 
                          
   "You don't have to stay, I'll be fine," Adam had said, modestly. 
                          
   "Nah, bro. I don't have anything else I need to be doing right now. Besides, I've missed having late nights in the studio." He simply smiled. 
                          
   Now, Adam was scribbling down notes and crossing them out each time, never satisfied with the way the words sounded together. He made a frustrated noise not unlike a growl and tore yet another page full of chicken scratch out of his notebook. He balled it up, aimed, and made a free throw to the waste basket sitting a few metres away. It hit the lip of the can and bounced off onto the floor. Another growl emanated from deep within his throat and he grabbed another Rockstar, pulled up the tab and took a long drink from it in frustration. 
                          
   "How you making out?" James stopped strumming and looked at Adam with mild concern.
                          
   "Like shit," Adam responded after he pulled the can away from his lips and swallowed.
                          
   "No ideas at all?"
                          
   "I've got some, it's just that I can't transfer the exact feeling into them," Adam tried to explain. 

                          
   James stared at the many crumpled up balls of paper lying around. After a moment, "What if you wrote it more directly as an experience and not just in metaphor for how you feel?" He spoke very slowly, the words coming to him as he formed the idea in his head. 
                          
   Adam pondered this for a moment. After a few seconds, his eyes started to light up. "Yeah, I think you might be onto something there, Valentine." Picking up his pen once more, Adam tried again. 
                          
   Within five minutes the first verse was complete. A few minor changes and Adam was finally getting his rhythm back.
                          
   "How about this?" Adam cleared his throat and attempted to sing the verse in the possible tune he thought could work for it.
                          
"You got in so late, it's Sunday morning
                          
Said that you were leaving, letting go of us
                          
Where did we go wrong?
                          
And now you say you're leaving California
                          
Gotta head back east and wanna leave tonight
                          
Pack your things and go
                          
But if you run away, I won't be alright"
                          
   James clapped his hands together and gave a whoop, "That's what I'm talking about!!" 
                          
   It was 1:16am when they both called it quits for the night; Adam felt satisfied with the finished product. He felt confident that once it was perfected and produced, it would for sure make it onto the album. "Leaving California" was what he titled the song.