SOHO grammar [scarlet]

With a few clicks on his laptop, Ali Fereydun informed his admirers that he may be working with a certain starlet in the future. Unbeknownst to them, ‘future’ meant now, well actually fifteen minutes ago. He texted her before tweeting the news, and she said she was on the way. It gave him time to tidy up the rented studio. The atmosphere inside this creation zone was damn near religious. It was one of his favorite places in the city. With a coffee shop out front, this SOHO studio was easily the working man’s workshop.

These days Ali couldn’t stop working, with Agency jobs and his actual job getting in the way of his beloved craft. Luckily, Ali’s talents required nothing but a dash of creativity and a good ear. His band had a solid set that they recycled for shows, and he could whip out the turn tables and go wild if need be. The boy had ambition for his music career though. This ambition equaled that of his demon-hunting career, but he knew that he’d always be silver-medaling to his brother. Music and magic were his treasures. No one could take them away from him, and no one but the tax-man could hamper his progress.

The studio was cut into two pieces, the recording room and the hangout zone. In the hangout zone, a long producing table actually made the line in the sand along with a soundproof glass. There was also a coffee table and some comfy chairs if needed a quick fix for inspiration. That coffee table had seen many white lines and rolled papers. Posters of local legends spotted the walls. And in the recording room, there were guitars, keyboards, a holy drum set, and a half a dozen microphones. Ali, the current curator of this magical place, wore a stylish black jacket over a white long-sleeve, jeans, snazzy boots, and a scarf to complete. He looked as if he belonged there. Everything was perf.

The magi balanced his laptop on his right forearm and commented on his sister’s latest tweet. Some Flatbush, dreamy rap was playing on the big surround-sound speakers. All the while, Ali chewed on a piece of chicken biryani. The half-eaten meal made its place on the coffee table with some lit candles and old CDs. A knock on the door stopped everything.

“Ho’d up! I’m coming.” The magi pushed a button on the production machine, which abruptly shut off all sound. He slammed his laptop shut and threw it towards the couches. Brushing himself for crumbs, he started towards the door and opened it with a big grin. He was expecting important people!