As Jack folded into the small chair to the right of his band-mate. He breathed in the smell of burnt coffee and..the band-mate sitting next to him. ... Beautiful. As Jack's eyes wandered around the room, he took in the peeling yellow paint, sagging brown chair, two of which he and his band-mate occupied, and two doors on the either end of the cramped waiting room. Jack's eyes caught his band-mate (Whose name was Jim, oddly enough) who was picking at his teeth with a tooth-pick. As he was staring at Jim, he took in his rugged appearance. Long hippy hair, scrawny beard, leather pants, construction boots, and a wife-beater...Jack hoped that the record company didn't care how they looked, just how they sounded because he had no doubt that the looks where going to change.
He sighed as he wondered where the rest of the band was. But before that thought could cross his mind, the door burst open and the two missing band-mates pored into the room. Leaving the cold, rainy evening behind them as they shut the door. "Sorry dude. Traffic." Jack smelled cigarette on their breath. Traffic..sure. Before they even got the chance to create more excuses over their late appearance, a women in secretary garb appeared in the door way across the room from which the rest of the band had just appeared. "He is ready for you now." She said crisply.
End of Chapter One