WAG Records

Story by comidacomida on SoFurry

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Spot On WAG Records copyright 2012 comidacomida

Casey gazed at the five cards spread out in his grasp; he'd been told on more than one occasion that he had a knack for poker and apparently his current winning streak only helped back that theory up. The two Dogs and a human seated at the table with him were spending just as much time chatting amongst themselves as paying attention to their cards, so he also attributed it to them being distracted.

Craig, the human of the group tossed down a card, "One, Ned." he announced to the corgi next to him.

"Pretty confident, huh?" the Dog questioned him, dealing him a replacement.

"Nah... I just can't get shit no matter what, so why bother?" the human countered.

"Bullshit." the enormous, black-furred mastiff seated across from the corgi stated, "Every time you draw one you end up with some kinda fuckin full house or a flush or a straight or somethin."

"Well at least we'll never have to worry about YOU getting a 'straight', will we, Angus?" the corgi asked with a smirk.

"Yea... fuck you, Ned." the mastiff countered, "Gimme two." and the big Dog rubbed at the small diamond stud in his right ear. The corgi responded with a grin and dealt out two cards to the mastiff.

"Casey?" Ned asked.

The dalmatian looked over his cards and took a moment to think. He slid two sevens to the left and then looked at the three fives, "I'm fine with this paw." he announced, "I'll stay."

"I fold." announced Craig.

"Me too." Ned agreed.

"Fuck it," stated Angus, "I'm all in." and he slid his pile of M&Ms forward on the table.

"Something your boyfriend never hears you say?" the corgi inquired of the mastiff.

"Alright, Ned... enough already." Craig frowned, "Either you're showing off for Casey or you're trying to scare him away-- he doesn't know the corporate culture 'round here yet."

"Yea... get down off your high horse, Dog." Angus snorted.

"Is that supposed to be a short joke?" the corgi stood up, actually losing almost an inch of height, "You KNOW that's a genetic trait, god damn it!"

"Oh, so you can dish it out just fine, but when it comes to taking it--" the mastiff stood up as well.

Ned interrupted him, "Is that another thing your boyfri--"

"OKAY!" Craig's exclamation was mixed with a laugh, and Casey didn't miss the fact that both Dogs were wagging; he felt his own tail sway slowly, "Jesus, you two..." the human noted, "Enough already... you'll have a chance to impress 'the talent' later with your barking contests." Everyone sat back down, except for Casey, who hadn't left his seat. "Just call already." Craig suggested to the dalmatian.

"Pair of sevens and three of a kind... full house." Casey announced.

"Wow..." Angus stated, "fuck me..."

"He's barely been here two hours and you're already propositioning him?"

"NED!" Craig and Angus shouted.

Casey chuckled at that, dragging his gains back to his own pile. "Guess you're out then, Angus?" he inquired of the mastiff.

"Unless I make another stop off at the vending machine." the black furred Dog shrugged, "Probably just chill here... not long til we get called in anyway."

"So waiting like this is a normal thing?" Casey asked, pulling out his cell to check the time. It was 10:30 and he'd been waiting with his current companions for over an hour. Craig had been the talent agent that he met at B Sharp, but both Dogs were new acquaintances.. They had been introduced by their commonly used names and it was left at that. "He said to be here at nine fifteen."

Ned shrugged, "Eh... Chuck tends to do things at his own pace."

"Chuck?" the dalmatian inquired.

"He means Mr Gifford." Craig explained, "We're pretty informal here, if you haven't guessed."

"Yea..." Casey chuckled, glancing between Angus and Ned, "I'm starting to figure that out."

The corgi was reshuffling the cards as the mastiff stood up and arched his back with a yawn, "Alright... lemme get some new 'cash' and I'll be right back."

Casey looked down at his phone, "I got long enough to make a call?"

"Sure." the big Dog replied, "I'm gonna take a piss while I'm at it."

The dalmatian quick dialed and put the cell up to his ear, wait punctuated by the casual thump of his wagging tail against either one of the two vertical supports on his chair's back. Casey heard the line connect and it was a moment before he heard Paul's voice, "Casey?"

"Hey Paul!" Casey greeted him, feeling a comforting flush of warmth flow through him at the sound of his favorite human's greeting.

"You didn't come home last night." Paul sounded tired with a hint of concern.

"Oh... yea!" Casey confirmed, "I'm in LA!"

"Los Angeles?" Paul questioned.

"Yea!" the Dog nodded against his phone, "Remember that talent scout guy at the karaoke bar a few weeks ago? Well I got a call and they said they wanted me for a few practice sessions... so here I am!" he grinned from ear to ear.

"As long as you're alright." Paul confirmed, and some of the concern left the human's tone.

"You bet!" Casey laughed, "I wouldn't go running off or anything... this is just real important."

"Like, life-changing important." Ned added with an eye roll; Chuck shushed him, and the corgi grumbled, dealing out a new set of cards for everyone.

"Yea... I bet." the human responded after a pause, "Pretty lucky break, right?"

"You can say THAT again!" Casey confirmed, "At least I'll have something to do until Mein Hund starts up their advertising again." the dalmatian's tail continued wagging freely.

"Just remember," Paul took on the mindful tone that Casey enjoyed so much, "Eizenzahn still wants you to be available for photo shoots when we're ready for you."

"Last thing I remember was that you were still trying to figure out what to do." the Dog chided playfully. He covered the muzzle piece on his phone with a paw, "It's my photographer... he's reminding me that I'm a model first and a singer second.

"Careful," Ned added, "Angus is really into models..."

"Shut up, Ned." the big mastiff announced, returning from down the hall. Casey stifled a snicker.

"I'll give you a call when I find out the dates for the shoots." the response was all business and Casey wondered to himself if Paul was having trouble sleeping again. He promised himself that he'd call Tanner to check in once he was done in the studio.

"No problem, Paul..." the dalmatian confirmed in as upbeat and encouraging a tone as he could, "just let me know! Unless anything special comes up I'll be home tomorrow..." he glanced at Chuck, who shook his head, "...or maybe Friday." Casey clarified.

"Okay... have fun," Paul noted. The dalmatian could practically hear the gears churning in the human's head through the phone, and the words finally came out of him, "and make good choices!"

"Your sense of good, or mine?" the dalmatian laughed. Ned frowned, pointing at the cards in front of Casey, "Oh! Gotta go..." he felt his ears flush, "I'm hanging out with a few folks in the recording studio and we're about to get another game of cards started."

"I always pictured you as the 'card'-dog type." Paul offered sardonically.

"har-har." Casey noted flatly, "See you soon." and he disconnected, then looked back to his fellow card players, "Alright... ready for another round."

"That will have to wait." a voice interrupted them from an open doorway. A human woman, perhaps a year or two younger than Casey peeked into the room. She had an intent expression made only more severe by the headset she wore, "Craig... Mr Gifford wants to see you. Ned-- they want you in 'The Box'."

"The Box?" Casey asked the corgi.

"Wiring hub for the sound room." Ned responded, "I'm the one that makes sure the equipment gets what it needs to make you actually sound good."

"Mr Gifford says 'now'." the woman clarified.

"Thanks, Nat. I'm on my way." Craig stood up and pushed his chair in, pausing only long enough to motion to his pile of M&Ms, "Nobody eat my winnings." and he exited.

"Likewise." Ned added, and followed the human out, leaving only Casey and Angus.

"So..." Casey noted once they were alone.

"'sfine... you don't have to do the small-talk thing." the mastiff noted flatly, reaching across the table to take all of the corgi's candy.

"Actually, I'm kinda wondering..." the dalmatian began.

"Yea... it's real." Angus confirmed, turning his head so Casey could see the earing, "and yea, I like guys." the mastiff said nothing more, sitting back in his chair instead, popping a few M&Ms into his muzzle.

"Oh..." Casey paused, "Um... no..." he cleared his throat, "I had a question about WAG Records."

If the mastiff was uncomfortable about the misunderstanding he didn't let on, "Ask Mr Gifford... I just work here." Casey paused at the gruff response, but recovered with Angus rolled his eyes, "I'm messing with ya, Casey. What'cha wanna know?"

The dalmatian shrugged, "I think this is probably the only time I can remember when nobody asked me about my full name."

Angus let out a blurting "HA" at the comment and slapped a paw on the table, "Casey... this is the music industry... half of the HUMANS don't even use their full name... or even their REAL name."

"So here, I'm just 'Casey'?" Casey inquired.

"You're 'just' nothing... you are CASEY." the mastiff announced his name with meaning, "If you're gonna be in the biz you can't NOT sell yourself, Dog."

"So..." Casey flicked an ear, "Do I get to ask YOUR name?"

"It's Angus." the mastiff stated flatly.

"Your whole name?" the dalmatian reiterated.

"Just call me Angus." the mastiff repeated.

"What about your FULL na--"

"Listen, dog..." Angus interrupted him, "Two things you gotta know about workin here... one:" he held up a finger, "Accept that most humans use Green Names as often as Dogs... and two:" he held up a second digit, "Never ask EITHER to give you their full name."

Casey blinked, failing to comprehend, "What's a 'Green Name'?"

Angus sighed, "You DO have a lot to learn." he stated, crossing his arms over his chest, "A 'Green Name' is the business term for common names... like 'Casey'... that's your Green name."

"You mean there's an official term for that kinda thing?" the dalmatian asked.

"Haven't you ever filled out a tax form before, Dog?" the black Dog stared at him incredulously.

Casey didn't have a chance to answer, as the human woman returned, "Casey? Mr Gifford is ready for you now."

"Oh... um... thanks." the dalmatian smiled weakly, trying to use the expression to fight back the sudden butterflies fluttering in his stomach. The human woman disappeared back down the hall after mumbling something about 'this way'.

"He'll be right there, Natalie!" Angus called after her, then reached out to grab hold of Casey's wrist, "Hey, Dog?"

"Huh?" the dalmatian asked, eyes going to the mastiff's strong grip.

"Relax, Dog... Chuck's a good guy and word is that he wants to make this work." Angus stated.

"Not as much as I do." Casey offered a good-humored grin.

"You'll do fine... just do what he says."

"I'm good at that." the dalmatian acknowledged.

"And, for fuck's sake, do NOT piss him off."

Casey's ears went up; he would have asked for clarification but, at that moment, Natalie reappeared and motioned for him to follow.

The dalmatian managed to keep up with her quick pace, but only just. He wondered for a moment how many espressos a human had to drink to make moving so quickly look so natural, but his mind was pulled back to the present when she opened a thick wooden door and ushered him in; she closed the door behind him.

Casey let his eyes adjust to the low light level of the small room, lit faintly by some recessed lighting and numerous glowing buttons on a HUGE electronic device. "Hello, Casey." announced the man seated in front of the control board, "My name is Chuck Gifford... you can call me Chuck." and he stood, reaching out to offer a hand to the dalmatian.

The Dog accepted it readily and gave it a firm shake, "Hi, Chuck." and his tail slowly untucked, starting a tentative wag, "So... um..." he glanced around the room, "This is a sound booth thing?"

The human nodded with a smirk, taking a seat at his chair, "It's a recording studio... one of several we have. It's one of the lower end ones." he moved several knobs and pressed a button, "We aren't recording today, just so you know. I want to get a feel for you."

The first thing that came to Casey's mind was a juvenile dirty comment but he quickly squelched it, promising himself that he'd find a way to use it on Paul some time, "Okay..." the dalmatian nodded, "so... what do I do?"

"Go through that door there..." Chuck pointed at a door connecting the room he was in with one that was situated next to it, the two spaces separated by a large glass window. Casey did exactly as he was told and moved so he could get a better view of the human. Chuck looked like he was in his early middle age and just starting to get to that human age where males started to lose some of their hair... which Casey thought would be funny for Chuck considering the man wore his long and in a ponytail. The human was on the thinner side of average and--

"Now what?" Casey snapped himself out of his nervous assessment of his boss.

A click off to the Dog's right drew his attention to a speaker attached to the wall. "I can't hear you when you're in there, Casey." Chuck's voice emerged, "You'll have to go over to the headset." he added.

The dalmatian looked around until he identified the music stand with a headset hanging from it; they were situated directly beneath the only ceiling light on his side of the room. The Dog moved to it and picked the headset, taking a moment to inspect the ear pieces and the mic branching off of them. He looked up at Chuck questioningly, and saw the human take off his own set and hold one of the ear muffs to one ear, "Just use one-- the best brands don't manufacture them for Dogs, but it's alright... most artists only use one ear piece at a time anyway."

Casey imitated the human and played with the mic, trying to figure out how to angle it best against his muzzle. The speaker on the wall clicked on again, "Don't worry about that one, Casey... use the one in front of you." and the human tapped on the glass, pointing at the metal arm hanging from the ceiling; it had a large microphone at the end.

"Oh... sorry... right." the dalmatian fumbled with the headset until he had one earphone pressed against his right ear with the left one tucked under his chin. "Is that better?" he asked, leaning into the mic.

"That's good, Casey." Chuck's voice came through his ear phone rather than the speaker on the wall, "But you don't have to lean into it... just stand normal." It took several times until the Dog was comfortable with his positioning but Chuck seemed to have endless patience with him.

"This is pretty complicated." the Dog admitted.

"You'll get used to it." the human promised, and then leaned down, disappearing from Casey's view for several moments before sitting back up, "Alright, Casey... we're going to do just a few vocal tests today... run you through a scale, get you a little more comfortable with the studio, and maybe see if we can have some fun doing it."

"Okay." Casey acknowledged, then paused, realizing he had leaned over toward the mic to answer again, "Uh... sorry." he smiled sheepishly.

"And RELAX." Chuck reminded him.

The practice session lasted several hours and, despite the warning from Angus, Casey found the producer to be a very level-headed and even pleasant manager. Toward the end of their time together, Chuck even suggested a trial run on a cover, just to run the Dog through some paces. Casey didn't object, and the now-familiar process of focusing on the music in his ear piece came much more naturally.

The dalmatian picked up on the song tentatively at first, but by the fourth or fifth verse he was singing along with it no problem. It started coming together as he appreciated the ability to hear his voice in his left ear and hear it combined with the music in his right; something about the combination gave him a better feel for close he was... but, by the time he was half way through the song he gave up tracking the technique of it and just enjoyed the song. He'd heard it a lot when he was a pup and it all started coming back to him.

The beat of the song left him bobbing along in time with it, his tail wagging counterpoint as he enjoyed the silly freedom of the up-tempo, turn-of-the-millenium song from his teenage years. At that point he didn't even need the lyric sheet and he closed his eyes, belting out the chorus, "So go on, go on, come on, leave me breathless. Tempt me, tease me, until I can't deny this lovin' feeling. Make me long for your kiss. Go on, go on... yea, come on..."

Casey surprised himself with how easy it had become despite how awkward the set up had seemed at first, so easy in fact, that he easily lost himself in the moment. As the song came to an end and the Dog opened his eyes, he realized that Chuck was not the only one in the room. The human woman that had joined the producer had an air of authority to her... not the kind that was given-- the kind that was demanded. She was focused solely on Casey, and wore a smile on her face that made the Dog worry... in fact, it made him worry a lot.