S2/04. Old habits die hard

4.12 Francesco De la Cruz
Summer 1998, Mountaver Records studio, San Myshuno

"I found a fix for your song," Alejandro said on their way into the studio.

"'Barrage'," he answered Francesco's silent question.

"Are we really gonna record this?" Nico didn't conceal his disregard. If it were after him, they'd probably play only very melodic pieces with endlessly long synth and guitar solos. Literally the opposite of 'Barrage', which was concepted as a live-song; to heat up a crowd, not to lull them.

"What fix?" Francesco asked.

Instead of a reply, Alejandro smirked and indicated him and Nico to follow.

Inside the recording room, Joanne was already there, engaged in conversation with another woman. Francesco thought he recognized her as Toxic Purple's manager, and he wondered if Alejandro wanted to collaborate with them for the song. While Francesco usually had no objection to teaming up with other musicians, but this time he wasn't convinced their guitarist had made the best choice. Lyta had a fine voice, but her clears would kill the sardonic edge envisioned for that track and make it too serious.

"Alexa has a recommendation for you," said Joanne to the group.

"No collab," Francesco declared. 

They could as well stop talking now and wasting their time.

The women raised their eyebrows and turned their attention to him.

"Francesco, I'm offended," said Alexa, half seriously, half jokingly. "Lyta will be heartbroken. And Drake..." the corners of her mouth curled up into a mild smile, though.

"Al said you want to have more stability in your set-up," said Joanne, "and by coincidence, Alexa knows someone she's trying to get back into the music business forever."

"Better said, wake up from the dead," Alexa sighed. "But when Jo told me about your plans, I couldn't think of anyone better fitting for you boys. A rare talent."

Francesco and Nico shot questioning looks towards Alejandro.

"She's right," he smiled with confidence. 

"He better be good," Francesco grumbled. He'd gone himself through a few potential bassists without the others knowledge, but no one had him convinced yet.

"You know already who she's talking about?" Nico asked.

Alejandro nodded. "Just look for yourself."

He put a tape into the VRC and started the video. It was a recording of Averfest, according to the date in the corner, from three years ago.

The sound quality was rather awful, but Francesco was convinced the band wouldn't sound much better life. The music was loud and very fast, very Death Metal. Maybe it wouldn't even be bad, if they had some better skilled musicians.

"My ears," Francesco complained, when the vocalist started his sad excuse of a growling. It sounded more like a throat infection.

"Well, we're not here for him," Alejandro chuckled, "one of your kind is already pain in the ass enough to deal with." He earned himself an elbow in his ribcage.

But Francesco was curious, and so he pricked his ears to filter out the bass line.

"Nope, he's not good," was his verdict. "Sub-par, at best."

Nico shrugged. It was obvious he wasn't too impressed, either.

"It's not the bassist, either," Alejandro said, visibly amused at his bandmate's cluelessness. "Listen. I'm sure you'll figure out who's worth our time here."

Who else? The guitarist was maybe the only decent one in the band, but Francesco was sure Alejandro would never agree to share his own spotlight. 

Just when he wanted to give up and leave, a short solo caught his attention. It sounded more like a quick improvisation than scripted. And damn right, this was – fucking good, at least.

He bent forward, closer to the screen to catch a glimpse of the solo's musician. Unfortunately the camera focused only onto the vocalist and occasionally the guitarist, so he couldn't catch much more than a few glimpses of a shadow in the back. But he could tell that it was one of those that played with their whole body, not only arms and legs as most others Francesco'd seen. 

Wow, that was some energy exuded, even from the shadows in the back.

The instrument that'd been disgracefully neglected by all of them since Raj had left. By a funny coincidence, also three years ago.

After the song ended and the vocalist gave his usual speech of thanks, the spotlights lit up and the camera did a round of the audience and then the whole band who'd come up to the front of the stage. When it reached the band's last member, Alejandro paused the video.

"He looks young," Nico remarked.

"He's twenty-one here," Alexa said. "Not much of a difference to Francesco, isn't it?"

On the screen, the young man stood tall with his arms wide open, sweat-dripping green hair, bare chested and the brightest smile through melting obscure face paint.

Francesco understood immediately what Alejandro saw in him.

He was more than just a talent.

"Drums," Alejandro said. "What do you think?"

"He's not a bass player," Francesco replied.