Different Circles

Pauline solved this problem by putting out some feelers. She was able to secure an abandoned warehouse building in Stonehurst in the east San Fernando Valley, only ten minutes from Whiteman Airport. The warehouse sat in a largely disused industrial complex not far from the local landfill. It only took a few thousand dollars and a few dozen man hours to fix the place up, secure it properly, and make it usable as a rehearsal studio. KVA decided to foot the bill for twenty-four-hour security to guard the facility and keep the local tweakers from stealing all the band’s instruments and equipment at night.

That left housing for Matt. It was nearly a two-hour drive from San Juan Capistrano to Stonehurst in morning traffic, an hour-fifteen from Kim’s mostly unused house in El Segundo, both too long to be practical. Since he no longer owned a condo in LA and since he had far too much pride to bunk with one of his band members during the week, they had to find some place to put him up. That place turned out to be the house that Jake and Laura owned in Granada Hills, only ten minutes away from the rehearsal warehouse.

Jake was extremely reluctant to let the infamous guitar player stay there, but in the end, decided to give it a go as Matt did not have the means to rent any place he would actually be caught dead in in LA and KVA was not willing to pay rent for him.

“You will not trash our fucking house!” Jake warned him sternly when he first suggested the idea to Matt. “I am dead serious about this. You will sleep in the guest room and clean up everything as you go along. Laura and I stay in that house on occasion—that’s why we have it—and if there is so much as a bedsheet ruffled or an orange peel on the floor or a single dirty glass in the sink when we go there, your ass is out on the street.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Matt agreed. “I’ll treat the place just like it’s my own.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Jake said.

“Don’t sweat it,” Matt assured him. “I’ll keep it spotless and take care of it for you.”

“And no parties,” Jake added. “It’s there for you to sleep in during the week. No guests of any kind except for Kim.”

“Jeez, dude,” Matt said. “When did you get that big-ass stick shoved up your ass?”

“When I invited a guy who is known to punch holes in hotel suite walls to live in my house,” he said.

“I only did that when I was drinking and doing coke,” Matt said.

“You still do those things,” Jake reminded him.

“Yes, but I’m a lot more mature these days. I haven’t punched a hole in a wall in more than a year now.”

“You’re not making me feel better about this, Matt,” Jake said.

“Don’t worry,” Matt said. “I’ll treat your house like it’s a fuckin’ shrine. You have my word on it.”

“Uh huh,” Jake said.

“But do be sure to call first before you and your old lady come by,” Matt suggested. “That way, I can make sure the sheets ain’t ruffled and there ain’t no glasses in the sink and shit.”

“Fair enough,” Jake agreed. “What about your car?”

“What about it?”

“Do you have a driver’s license these days? You’re not planning to take limos back and forth all the time, are you?”

“I have a driver’s license,” Matt assured him. “And I still have my Maserati.”

“Okay,” Jake said. “Please don’t engage in any police pursuits while this project is underway. And if you do, don’t lead them to my house. Can you do that?”

“Consider it done,” Matt agreed.

Last came the equipping of the warehouse so progress could begin. Most of the amps, speakers, and other sound equipment that Matt had used for previous workups had belonged to National Records and was part of their warehouse. In addition, Matt had sold off most of the non-instrument equipment that he had personally owned. KVA’s equipment was, like the studio itself, going to soon be used for Celia and her workups. That meant that new equipment needed to be purchased and installed. This was the most expensive part of the process to date as high-quality sound gear was not cheap. KVA laid out more than thirty thousand dollars for a new sound board, a speaker system, new amps, and all the cabling and wiring to make the equipment work. Jake, Matt, and the Nerdlys spent the better part of Wednesday afternoon putting everything together and wiring it up.

“All right,” Jake said as the four of them sat drinking beer or iced tea (the tea was for Jake, who would be flying later) once the project was complete. “Tomorrow you start working.”

“The boys are ready,” Matt promised. “We’ll be here at nine o’clock and work until five. You have that catering service ready to go?”

“They’ll start with lunch tomorrow,” Jake said—yet another expense that KVA was incurring in the Tisdale Project, as they were now referring to it.

“Out of fuckin’ sight,” Matt said.

“Do you want us to come over in the morning to help you with your sound checks?” asked Nerdly.

Matt and Jake shook their heads immediately. “Naw, Nerdly,” Matt said. “We’re just starting the workups tomorrow. We don’t need to be perfect just yet.”