Everything I want: Will Alfie and Lily's love survive?... by K. L. Shandwick

in the studio cutting our first a lbum.
    The plan being we’d cut the album in the studio on weekdays and play in two venues on Saturdays and Sundays for the next two months, starting next week.
    We were able to meet the obligation to Louie that first week, but that was the end of performing at his clubs. I felt a little sad about that. Louie had been great to us and to me in particular. When we went over to see him from the record company’s office, there was nothing but pride for where we were he aded.
    He wasn’t concerned that he was losing us as a group, because he knew there would be fresh faces waiting in the wings for their moment on his s tage.
    He was relaxed and accepting of our success; his only comment was that we had to keep in touch and not forget our roots. “If you ever need to be told you’re an asshole when everyone else is singing your praises out there in the future, I’m your man.” He smi rked.
    I had a feeling that comment was the sign of a true friend. I could easily see how a life on the road, with people catering to our every whim, could affect us. It could make us lose touch with reality to a certain ex tent.
    Spence stopped by once, but the main man on our project was Keiron. He was a nice guy but a slave driver. For two months solid, we worked our butts off, playing in shopping malls in sixteen st ates.
    The company jet flew us between venues, and we slept when we could. As we were pretty tight with our material for recording, we were in the studio ten hours a day.

Chapter 8 – Surreal situation

    W e had spent most of our time in the studio putting the album together. We ate, breathed, and napped between. At first, each of us was taking turns, playing our individual instruments, then as a band.
    I felt envious of Shawn more than once as the percussions were the first sound to be laid down for each song. He seemed to have the longest periods of time to himself between and was constantly asleep on the large black leather sofa in the mixing room.
    In just eight weeks, here we were, launching years of work and dedication. The mixing had been mastered, and our producers had done an amazing job.
    The artwork for the cover was ready, and the marketing company was all over it. In the short time we’d been in the hands of Sly, we now had our own logo, website, twitter, facebook, Instagram, and official fan club.
    We were involved in several photo shoots, and the image people took over everything from what we could wear to what we couldn’t be see n in.
    The label threw us a launch party; the venue they chose held five thousand people and radio stations were running competitions for listeners to win tickets to see us perform at the la unch.
    Launching the CD was crazy. I was no longer in charge of what I wore, but I drew the line when she tried to put me in some converse shoes to perfor m in.
    I insisted on my six inch heels and told her that was not up for negotiation. The rest of the outfit wasn’t a far cry from what I would have chosen for myself an yway.
    The image designer had picked a tight leather skirt and a silk, dark green sleeveless top. A white lacy bra showed through this, and my hair was styled and straight ened.
    Sandy, the makeup artist, told me that I was, by far, the easiest client she’d had. She hardly did anything to me except kohl, mascara, and lips tick.
    She did tell me that when I traveled abroad and lost my tan, she’d have to apply a lot more makeup to me. Especially, if I didn’t want to look like a ghost on stage with the bright li ghts.
    Lennon came in and stood facing the mirror, his arms across his chest. “You all set?” He smiled. Sandy pulled the heavy rubber shoulder guard that was protecting my clothes off and peeled the gown that she’d draped over me away.
    “Ready as she’ll ever be.” She gri nned.
    Lennon saw my bra under the top. “Fuck,” he mutt ered.
    I chuckled. “Jeez, honey, you getting all horny over my bra again?” I te ased.
    He