Chapter 14 The Song of Doom
FOURTEEN
THE SONG OF DOOM
SEBASTIAN
It only took us half a day to get in sync.
At first, Alex still held back a little. When we stepped inside, he timidly asked if he could play me a song. He stared at me in awe when I picked it up halfway through, already singing along by the second chorus.
Half an hour later, we were huddled in front of his laptop, browsing through folder after folder of songs he had written, until he finally loosened up enough to ask if we could jam on a couple of his sketches he had never been able to turn into full songs on his own.
By noon, we had turned a supposedly dead idea into something worth recording. A minute after noon, our hands and mouths were all over each other.
When he touched me, he held nothing back.
His body explored mine, demanding and taking what it wanted—and I gave it to him willingly.
He fucked me on the floor with a vigor worthy of a week called spring break.
When we were done, we chuckled for a minute, and then kissed for another, unable to take our eyes off each other.
We had the best sandwiches for lunch, and afterward, we fed the cows together.
In the afternoon, we made more music, fucked again, showered together, cooked pasta together, and wrote another song together until we were so tired that we snuggled under his blanket, clinging to each other as if we had never experienced human touch before.
Maybe we truly hadn’t—at least not like this.
When we first got to know each other through our phones, this was exactly what I had hoped it would be like if we ever got the chance to spend more time together. And I couldn’t have been happier that we took the risk.
The next day was exactly the same, except that we didn’t bother getting dressed in the morning. I just stayed in my shirt and underwear, and after we fucked before lunch, Alex did the same.
Throughout the day, we became more focused and worked on more songs. The more progress we made, the livelier Alex became.
It was about four o’clock when he sat in front of his laptop while I was strumming some chords on the guitar, feeling him sneak glances at me.
“You know we already have six songs?” He turned back to the track he was adjusting. “Four more and we could call it an album.”
I knew we would have to have that conversation eventually.
When we first met, I was so set on never singing again that, even when I agreed to sing for him, I told him he could never show it to anyone, which definitely clashed with his own ambitions.
Of course, my stance has done a complete one-eighty in the past few weeks—his music had become my music too, and even though nothing was fully finished yet, it was something I wanted the world to hear—we just hadn’t talked about that yet.
“I bet at this pace we could have a full album by the end of the week,” I replied, pressing the guitar strings down to keep them from ringing. “Is that something you’d want to do?”
“Only if you want it, too.” He clicked on his laptop, not looking at me. “Although I have to admit… if we made it to ten songs, I’d kind of want to put them out somehow.”
“That goes without saying.”
He glanced at me. “And… you’d be fine with that?”
“I mean, we’re in a band. It would make sense for me to be okay with it, wouldn’t it?”
Holding the guitar with my right hand, I reached out with my left and took his. He let me hold him, gazing at our fingers as they brushed against each other.
“Are you sure?” he said softly. “Because it’s okay if you don’t want to after… everything.”
“Can I tell you something?” I put the guitar aside and scooted closer. “The night we met, you taught me a valuable lesson that I only realized after I left.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.” I chuckled. “I know you didn’t mean to, but you did.”
“What lesson?”
“That I can’t hold on to my past.”
I interlaced my fingers with his and rested our hands on his leg before leaning my head against his shoulder.
“When we jammed that evening, and I let go of all those things I told myself for a moment, I finally enjoyed myself again for the first time in a long while. It didn’t hit me right away, but the next night, when I was alone with my thoughts, I started wondering…
Why did I give up something I loved so much?
Just to stick it to all of them?” I shook my head. “That was just stupid, wasn’t it?”
I took a breath.
“And then I realized it wasn’t just the music.
I did the same thing with my family. I didn’t just stop talking to my dad.
I shut everyone out. All because I couldn’t let go of one argument.
” I exhaled slowly. “Getting to know you made me realize I don’t want to make choices based on things that went wrong in the past. I want to make choices that actually make me happy.
And being here with you, making music, and talking about recording an album is what makes me happy. ”
I lifted my head slightly.
“Sure, maybe things go wrong. Maybe people won’t like the music.
Maybe my parents will yell at me if they find out.
But so what? The first time I tried this, I thought I’d be a superstar by now, and look how that turned out.
” I huffed a quiet laugh. “But this time, I know I’ll at least enjoy it.
I already do, because I get to spend time with you. ”
I squeezed his hand.
“So yeah, if you want to make an album and put it out, I’m in.”
He squeezed my hand back and gifted me a smile. “That was beautiful, you know?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
His smile widened. “I really want to make an album with you.”
“Then let’s do this,” I said, sitting up. “Four more songs. Should be easy for us.”
We kissed hard after that, but instead of fucking again, we actually went back to work. We went through all his ideas, sketches, and demos. He had so many that he let me decide which ones should make the album. Otherwise, he’d pick all of them.
By the end of the day, I had selected two more, bringing the total to eight—the three we had worked on when I was in Vegas, the three we had improved from sketches he had shown me the day before, one we improvised that morning, and one Alex had written the day before I arrived.
The songs ranged from fast pop tracks to quiet ballads, but they fit together beautifully. He used a lot of similar synths, and every song he had shown me so far—as different as they were in tempo, tonality, and mood—clearly carried his artistic signature.
It became a bit more challenging with the last two songs, though, since we agreed they needed to fill specific gaps that none of his existing tracks covered.
We decided to just write two more, but the moment we set that goal, we hit a wall. We worked through the evening without a breakthrough, and the next morning’s session didn’t go any better.
“How hard can it be?” I complained, setting Alex’s guitar down a little too roughly against the wall. “We’re only missing two songs!”
“I guess two more would be perfect to make it a full album.” Alex skimmed the song titles in his notebook with his index finger, as if he could hear them just by touching the words.
“One should definitely go between Point Blank and For The Love Of You. And one at the end. I love Your Voice, but I’m not sure it’s a good song to end a playlist with. ”
I leaned my head against his, looking at the list, too. “It’s too slow. I agree.”
“Let me…” He flipped through the pages of his filled notebook, quickly scanning scribbles of lyrics.
A couple of heavy breaths brushed my fingers.
“No.” He let the notebook rest on his lap and leaned forward toward his laptop.
He scrolled through folders of demos that could fill at least ten albums, his eyes narrowing with each scroll.
“I don’t know. You’ve heard all of the good ones.
” He sighed and let go of the trackpad. “I guess the ones we’re missing truly haven’t been written yet. ”
“Then we’re doomed. Are you sure you don’t have anything hidden away?”
His eyes circled around me, and only after looking everywhere else did they finally land on me. “I’m not sure I should confess this to you.”
“Confess what?”
“All the songs you’ve picked…” His cheeks flushed. “All but one were songs I wrote after I met you. As in… they were all inspired by you.”
A grin spread across my face. “So I’m your muse?”
“If that’s what you want to call it.” He side-eyed me, scrunching his nose. “For all these songs, I had your voice in my head, and I let it guide me. Before that, it was just my own ugly voice in my head, but from the moment I heard you hum, things changed. Writing songs got so much easier.”
“Looks like meeting each other had an impact on both of us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, never mind.” I nodded at the notebook. “Let’s focus. If you say that working with my voice made it easier for you to write new songs, then this shouldn’t be too hard. How do you usually do it? Write a song?”
Alex flipped through the notebook again.
“It’s hard to describe. I mostly get inspired by real-life stuff.
Often, it’s small, seemingly insignificant experiences.
They just happen, and whenever they do, I make a quick sketch on my phone and come back to it later.
” His jaw clenched. “I usually have so many ideas that I can’t even keep up with them. ”
“So what do you do when you feel empty?”
“I… do something else. Break the routine to get some new inspiration. Go for a walk or something.”
“Maybe that’s what we should do then. Take a little break. A walk actually sounds like a nice idea. After all that progress, we deserve one.”
“So much progress despite all the fucking,” he joked.