Night Shifts Black(40)

         
       
        

"Is she your girlfriend or Casey's?" Eli snickers, and Luke only gives him a mischievous shrug.

"She was mine first. He stole her," he teases, and I shove him.

"What? It's true!" Luke cries good-naturedly.

The others laugh. "Yeah, right. Barrett stole a girl from Luke Craven. That'll be the day."

I shrug. "It's kinda true," I return lightly, and Luke and I exchange an amused look.

"Man, next you're going to tell us this whole thing with Jackson Street was all Casey, too."

Now, Luke and I laugh. "And that's a hundred percent true," I respond, totally proud of him.

They shake their heads.

"What is happening to the universe?" Sweeny mutters.

"I told you guys you've always underestimated him. Not all drummers are idiots," Luke jokes.

"Our Baby Casey is all grown up, I guess," Eli laughs.

I raise my eyebrows. "Baby Casey?" I ask, and Luke nods with a smile.

"He was fifteen when we started. He never really outgrew the name," Luke explains.

Eli nods. "Yeah, Sweeny and I are both 30, then there's Little Luke who's, what are you now, 27?"

Luke nods.

"Which leaves Baby Casey at the bottom," Sweeny confirms.

I laugh at the nickname. The thought of Casey as "Baby" anything, especially after the way he just took care of us this past week, is so ridiculous. I can't help it.

"So how long have you two been together?" Eli asks me. "It's not like our boy to settle down."

Luke and I exchange a careful look, and I'm not sure what to say. I don't know what Casey told their manager, what the official story is. We didn't think we'd need it so soon.

"Not long," Luke says. "But when you know you know, I guess. It was obvious to me before it was to that idiot," he adds, and the others grin.

I give him my own grateful smile, which he returns with a slight wink.

"So what, you three just shack up here together now?"

Luke shrugs. "Sorta. Callie's got her own place also. Casey's just hanging out for a while. So how did the tour finish up?" Luke asks quickly, changing the subject.

It works, and the other two launch into more stories about people and lingo I don't know. I start to tune out, counting the seconds until Casey returns. Baby Casey. Even his nicknames make me smile.



∞∞∞



Casey does return soon enough. We hear the clatter of the door, and I rush to hold it as a porter maneuvers through the opening with a cart containing two huge cases. 

The guys pause their tour conversation, and I can't help but melt at the childlike joy on Casey's face as he tips the porter and thanks him. Maybe I do understand the nickname after all. He stands motionless for a minute, as though he can't decide where to start. One case is clearly a guitar, the other's just a large rectangular box framed in steel.

Luke comes over and slaps him on the back. "You want to set up the keyboard in the office or at the table here?"

Casey glances around the room.

"Here, probably. If we're going to be working together."

Luke nods. "Makes sense." He bends down and opens the rectangular case while Casey opens the guitar.

I'm surprised at how small the keyboard is. I don't know much about instruments, but I know a piano is a lot bigger than whatever this thing is. I'd just assumed keyboards would have the same number of keys as the piano, but this one clearly doesn't. I'd be surprised if it were half the size. I would have asked Casey about it if we were alone and I thought there was any chance he would have heard me. The way he cradles his guitar and gazes at it like a child he hasn't seen in months, I'm not sure he even remembers any of us exist.

I catch Luke's quick grin and headshake to himself as he observes the same thing I do. He doesn't comment either, however, and only places the small keyboard on the table. He begins unloading the other equipment from the case, which includes two small boxes with knobs and holes, a foot pedal, and two microphones. Finally. Microphones I recognize. There are also several coils of cables that he stacks neatly beside the rest.

By now Casey has his acoustic guitar assembled and slung over his shoulder. He's picking and strumming, and even I can see and hear the difference between this one and the one he's been playing in the suite. He seems much more at home now, more comfortable, and the clean, rich tone makes it obvious how much the inferior instrument was holding him back. I find myself getting excited to hear this guitar do our song justice.

"So do we get to hear this new masterpiece or what?" Eli asks, and Casey almost seems startled from his rendezvous with the guitar.

"What? Oh. No, not yet. I want to do a quick scratch track for you. I'll record something right after we eat." He thinks for a moment. "Actually, yeah, sorry, I'll set up in the office," he directs to Luke who nods.

"So secretive," Sweeny teases.

Casey shakes his head. "Nah, it's not that, it's just, we're further than concept, and what we've got is too complex to get the feel from the acoustic alone. I want to layer in the keys and some strings and pads, too. Oh! Plus, Luke wrote this awesome lick for you, Sweeny. You're gonna love it."

Sweeny seems impressed, and Luke shrugs.

"Now, I wish we'd brought the Les Paul," Sweeny mumbles, and Casey gives him a smile.

"It's fine. This is fine. I can layer in an electric and some percussion samples so you get the idea."

I'm trying desperately to follow their conversation and keep the baffled look from my face. I look again at the table, which has one tiny keyboard and two small boxes. There can't be more than 50 keys on the thing, and yet Casey's talking about recording a whole orchestra in the office. There seem to be more buttons and levers on the keyboard than actual piano keys, so maybe that has something to do with it, but I doubt it. I'm so confused.

"Can I help?" I ask, more to remind him of my existence than anything.

He smiles and starts toward the table. "Yeah, great! Grab those boxes and cables and put them in the office. I'll get my laptop and the controller."



       
         
       
        

"Controller?"

"The keyboard," he explains, and I nod. That makes sense. I guess. Or not.

I can hear the other guys resume the conversation without us, and focus on my assignment. I gather the equipment, as requested, and follow Casey toward the office.

He's already begun arranging the keyboard on the desk and has his laptop fired up to the right.

"Can you pass me the USB cable?" he asks. "Yeah, the little one there."

I nod and hand him what looks like a cable I'd use to hook up my printer.

He plugs it into the keyboard and connects it to the laptop. I see that he also has an external hard drive hooked up. Next he takes the pedal and plugs that into the back of the keyboard.

"You've been calling it a controller more than a keyboard. Why?"

He continues his setup as he answers. "Because that's all it is. It actually doesn't do anything on it's own. It's like a mouse or keyboard for your computer."

"Huh?"

He stops and waves me over. I can see it's taking incredible patience for him to stop his eager preparations to explain, but I really want to understand.

"Listen," he says, and starts pressing the keys as though he's playing a song.

I see that the display on the keyboard is lit and numbers are flashing, but I don't hear a sound.

"I don't hear anything," I say, and he smiles.

"Exactly. It doesn't make any sounds. All the sounds are generated by the computer. This thing is just a fancy joystick really." He laughs. "These days you have to be more of a computer programmer than a musician to make music."

I stare at him in awe. I had no idea.

"Can you show me?" I ask, fascinated.

He seems excited again, and I love watching his passion come to life. He navigates around his laptop, and soon I'm staring at a program that covers the screen with lots of small boxes and even more empty space. I still don't understand what's happening, but wait patiently as he clicks and moves around with a casual expertise.

"Ok, hang on a sec." He glances around the desk as if searching for something, and then grunts. "Do you have headphones? I'd let you use mine but they're custom for my ears so you won't be able to hear very well. I was hoping they'd have external speakers in here but they don't and the built-in speaker won't do it justice."

I nod. "I do in my bag. I'll go get them."

"Ok, great. I'll load some stuff for you to hear and get this set up."

I grab my headphones from my room and return as quickly as possible. When I do, I see him hard at work, one hand on his laptop and the other playing the keyboard. I can see he has headphones in his own ears now and I'm not even sure he's noticed I've returned. 

I wave my hands to get his attention, and he pulls one out of his left ear.

"That looks like a high-tech hearing aide," I comment, observing the molded earpiece dangling around his neck.

He grins. "It kind of is. Only a million times better. They're called in-ear monitors. They're custom fit to my ear so they fit perfectly. These babies have twelve drivers!"