Blake doesn’t get out of the sound booth until after eleven, when his business partner Meredith Davis finally calls for a break. The two teenaged girls in the recording booth collapse on a couch in the lobby, exhausted, but they have a good sound and Blake thinks they should be able to skim a few songs off the demo tape they’re recording once everything’s said and done.
At the snack machine, Blake picks out a Mr. Goodbar to hold him over until they break for lunch. Behind him, Meredith pours her third cup of coffee this morning. “I’m thinking we should stay late tonight,” she says in her raspy, smoked-out voice that sounds so scratchy over the headset when they’re behind the mixer.
Blake’s always surprised someone who talks like she does knows anything about music. “Tonight?”
Meredith s
