At the very least, we seem to have gotten away with our ruse—and this ruse was so much better than what the label made us do.
If I wasn’t one hundred percent in love with Harmony Sonora before, I am now.
RIFF:Hey, thanks again for all that. It was amazing.
HARMONY:You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.
RIFF:Actually … I loved it.
HARMONY:<3 :)
I Wanna Hold You When I'm Not Supposed To
HARMONY
Riffpullsuptomy house in his shelter-green Bronco Raptor.
It’s been four days since I ambushed him with the indie performance and we’ve been too busy to interact much, but after the success of our beach photo shoot, the label has insisted we get together and get back to working on “Hate to Love.”
Somehow I’ve made this even more difficult for myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken him out to reconnect with that whole scene, but … he was so kind to me at the beach, such a patient surf coach, so gentle when I told him about what happened to me. In contrast, I’ve been mean, difficult. I guess I wanted to make it up to him, if only a little.
Spending more time with him didn’t do my feelings any favors though. I had no idea how it would affect me to see him in his element and get a sense of his true sound. The timing is painfully ironic.
“Ready?” he asks as he opens the passenger-side door for me.
I didn’t think he was serious about taking me for a ride in this thing, but I know most guys will use any excuse to use and show off their prized vehicles, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
I climb in.
Stefanie and Braden apparently got together with the producer and the PR team and cooked up a plan to help us finish the song while also seeking more public attention, so Riff is supposed to take me out on a “date” and in the meantime we’ll share what we’ve individually come up with for the song’s second verse in a no-pressure environment.
Because having strangers gawk and photographers follow us like stalkers is relaxing.
“We just mean away from the studio,” Stefanie clarified. “Somewhere fun.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to have fun with Riff, but the nature of our careers makes it so that most of our interactions involve work. Music doesn’t always feel like work to me, but it does when I have to be careful about what I write; currently I am struggling with my contribution to the song because every lyric I come up with is actually sincere when it’s only supposed tosoundsincere. Meanwhile, I’m dreading the moment that Riff presents me with his ideas because he probably did the assignment correctly—drawing on the positive parts of past relationships for inspiration, like we talked about. Unfortunately that didn’t work for me.
Before we get through my security gate, I ask, “Are you taking me to get ravioli?”
Riff scoffs. “I’d say ‘no,’ but I’m sure you’d find a way to classifyanyfood as ravioli.”
Twenty minutes later, he enters the parking lot of a nice shopping center and parks in front of a place called Dough Re Mi.
Based on the logo, storefront design, and promo posters, it seems Riff has taken me out for …
“‘Edible cookie dough’?” I say. “That’s quite the gimmick, consideringallcookie dough is edible.”
He unclicks his seatbelt emphatically. “Sure, but this kind doesn’t have a one in 200,000 chance of making you sick.”
I pretend to be annoyed until we get inside, but once I see all the flavors, I can’t hide my enthusiasm. “Snickerdoodle? Brown butter toffee??”
It takes a minute before we’ve caused a stir by being here, thanks to our sunglasses and casual clothes buying us time.
Riff and I sign some autographs and take selfies with fans, we most definitely end up in videos on people’s phones, and then Riff tells the workers we’ll take two of everything to go, leaving them a massive tip before we leave.
He takes us up Mulholland Drive and finds an overlook that no one is using at the moment. We pull over and sample all the cookie dough at a picnic table and admire the view of the whole city.
“So we should probably finish the song,” Riff says after swallowing a mouthful of the birthday-cake flavor. “Were you able to come up with anything for the second verse?”
