Stanza 3

Max and his band mates walked down the cold corridor and stopped as they reached the door to the office of their manager. Max looked to the woman sitting at a desk. She could be no older than thirty-two and had long blonde hair, snapped back in a bun. Her lime coloured glasses covered her bold blue eyes. She had a phone clasped in one hand and was chattering on to the person on the other end. It was Lindsay, the secretary.

“Well…you know me, Martha…I threw him out straight off. I gotta go now…Max from The Somethings wants me.” She said in her southern accent. She flung the phone down and looked up at Max.

“He’s been waiting since half nine…got some woman in there with him…very pretty…erm…I think her name was…Rebecca Winters. I’ll just go and tell him that you’re here.” She said hastily, picking up different papers. She got up out of her seat and went inside the door.

“Rebecca Winters? Who’s she?” Flash asked with confusion.

“Don’t have a clue.” Jason answered. Joe and Karl looked at each other and shrugged.

“Oh…she’s just someone that Michael wants me to meet…I needed some help with my lyrics, so he’s got her for me.” Max replied softly.

“Wait…thought we said we’d write our own lyrics.” Flash coughed in shock.

“Oh…no…she’s not writing them for us…but she’s gonna help me write some…as I’m on a low as far as lyrics are concerned.” Max explained. Flash and the others still didn’t look very convinced, but they had no time to reply to what he had said, as Lindsay appeared from the room.

“You may go in now.” She whispered. They walked in, blasted by the melancholy tunes of one of their songs. Max smiled and turned to Flash.

“Little lover. One of my best.” He whispered. Flash returned the grin and they all sat down, coming face to face with Michael. Michael was in his late forties, with greying brown hair and shimmering brown eyes. He was thin and wore cords and a black jumper. He held a cup of coffee in his hand as he stood up and shook every hand of the band members.

Michael twirled and turned down his stereo system, making the music a subtle sound.

“Hello boys…how’ve you been?” Michael said. Max and the rest of the band just did their usual replies, saying basically what Michael already knew.

“Good…that’s what I like to hear from the band putting my children in college.” Michael joked. They all laughed, and they heard the sounds of a woman’s laugh behind them. They turned in surprise, thinking that this must be Rebecca Winters, which of course, it was. Max nearly died of shock when he looked upon her. She was a very pretty woman. She was around seventeen or eighteen with luscious blue eyes and beautifully long brown hair. She wore a Kurt Cobain t-shirt with some baggy black jeans. On her feet were some red converse shoes. She had a very pretty face, but with an edge of strength backing it. Max tore his eyes away from her and saw that the rest of his band were staring at her with wonder. They had seen many women like here before; its just most songwriters in the rock industry that they had met were a lot older than she was. They were usually between just under thirty and above. He turned back to Michael, the rest of his band following suit.

“This is…Rebecca Winters, Max…I’ve arranged a special meeting with you two after this.” Michael murmured.

“I…I thought she was going to be…” Max started.

“Older.” Rebecca finished, with a smile. She was American. Max nodded and looked back to Michael with wonder.

“They always do.” She whispered, looking out of the window. Max wondered what she had meant by that, but he didn’t think about it for long as Michael then pulled out a form for them to fill in.

After Max had finished all he needed to do with Michael, it was time to leave. His band mates were heading off to do sound checks and in a while he would join them too, but first he had to go with Rebecca.

Michael had booked them for a session in one of the recording studios, though Max wasn’t sure why they needed to record anything. Michael took them down there, unlocked the door and then left, which confused Michael as well, as he had thought Michael would be there with him. Rebecca walked in and sat down at a desk, Max followed, sitting down beside her.

“So…I’d better do a proper introduction to myself…um…I’m Rebecca Winters, as you know, I’m eighteen and I’m from California. I left home when I was 16 and went straight into the music industry. I only write songs, never sing them, and recently I’ve got into helping bands with lyrics instead of writing for them. I’ve worked with The Gordons, The Mindless, Freddie’s Decapitation and…ooh…Likeness. How about you?” She muttered, not sounding too pleased she was here.

“Erm…I’m Max Pederson. I come from Hull, England…not much of a place to come from. Erm…I’ve been singing and writing since I was thirteen, when the Somethings was first created…and when I was 19 we got a record deal here. Until recently, I was able to write lyrics…but now…I’ve lost all inspiration.” Max replied, sounding lost and confused. Rebecca looked up at him and searched his face for a few moments and then she smiled.

“What? What is it?” Max asked.

“Nothing…its just…hhh…never mind.” Rebecca sighed, with a brief smile.

“It’s just what?” Max returned, sounding slightly angry. Rebecca looked at him again, but this time more seriously, and she spoke:

“It’s just you just seem to have a lot bubbling around in your head. Like you are thinking of other things. Like you’ve got too much inspiration all ready.”

All Max did then was gasp.