Chapter 18 The Song of I Love You #2
I lay back on Alex’s bed, the euphoria still washing over me. The sun beat down on my face, only partially blocked by the blossoming cherry tree in the backyard. Two days had passed since our night at the hotel, and we had barely slept, using every second to finish the demos for our album.
“Ten songs. In one week. I still can’t believe it.”
Alex, sitting on the floor in front of his laptop, peeked over his shoulder. His eyes sparkled as his hand rushed forward and grabbed my right ankle. “Don’t act like we’re done.”
Wiggling around, I pulled my leg up but didn’t actually try to get away from him. His touch energized me every single time. He leaned against the bed, resting his arms on the mattress, and tugged on my feet.
“If we want to release this, we still have to master it in a real studio. Or at least pay someone to do it for us.”
I stopped struggling and sat up, pushing my feet closer to him and wiggling my toes. “I’ve heard the word ‘mastering’ before, but…?”
“It’s the process of fine-tuning things so the songs sound more or less the same no matter where you play them.”
“Right,” I said, letting the conversations of the past few days ruminate through my mind again.
We had discussed ways to share our music with the world.
We could try to get a record deal—though not with the label I had turned down years ago, because those bridges have definitely burned—but from what we gathered online, any music label would need us to already have some sort of online following as proof of concept these days.
That, on the other hand, would be hard to achieve without uploading at least some of our songs to streaming platforms. If we had to do that, though, we might as well release the full album ourselves and see if we could get a record deal for the next one.
Uploading content to all the major platforms was luckily pretty straightforward. Besides the legal aspects, like discussing how to handle any income generated from the streams, making them available wasn’t an issue. Plus, Nora had offered to help us create some content for social media.
We would only have to talk to my parents first, so it wouldn’t become a problem later, but I was ready to do that once they returned. But that wouldn’t happen for another twenty-four hours.
“The problem is,” Alex said, letting go of my ankles and bringing both his hands to my left foot. With all his strength, he pressed both his thumbs into my sole, making me wince. “This shit’s expensive.”
“Ouch,” I howled, but as he adjusted his grip, the sharp sting turned into the sweetest pain. “You’re mean.”
He grinned and kept going as I flopped back onto the mattress.
“So, how much are we talking?” I asked. “For the mastering, I mean?”
“Depends on who we hire, but think one to five hundred dollars.”
“That doesn’t sound too expensive.”
“That’s per song.” He released my left foot and moved on to the other, pressing into the exact spots that made me clench my fists and grit my teeth to endure the sweet pain.
“And we’re only talking about mastering here.
If we want to make some revisions or re-record the vocals with proper studio equipment, it can add up fast.” His thumbs glided down my sole before his fingers moved over my ankle and up my leg.
“So, unless we spend all my savings or your inheritance, I guess it’s going to be hard. ”
He slumped onto the mattress between my feet, his hand ending up suspiciously close to my bulge. I patted the back of his head.
“You shouldn’t burn all your savings on this.
I can’t either. I’ve got about five thousand dollars saved, but that’s more of an emergency fund.
As you know, my dad’s very insistent that people should make it on their own and not rely on inheritance.
If I hadn’t saved up miles on my credit cards, I wouldn’t even be here right now. ”
“Sounds like your dad.” He rested his chin on the blanket, his eyes first settling on my bulge, then moving to my face. “How about crowdfunding? It’s a long shot, but it could work.”
“We’d need incentives for that, not just the finished files. Like hard copies, or giving people the option to come to a concert.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “We could think about doing one in Las Vegas. There are smaller venues that’ll let anyone play as long as you can draw a crowd.”
“Vegas,” Alex tilted his head, an incredulous look on his face. “Wow.”
“It would certainly attract more people than Seastone—or at least people who might become actual paying fans, not just people who show up because they know us.”
“Vegas,” Alex said again. He let the thought settle for a moment before sitting up. “Okay. Why not?”
“If you want, I’ll run it by Nora. She’s got some connections, and I think she’d be more than happy to pull some strings for us.”
“Could we maybe set up a video call with her so I can properly meet her at least once before she becomes our manager?”
I had almost forgotten that they had only interacted for about three seconds when Nora crashed one of our calls. “Sure, but only when I’m back in Vegas. I’m not sharing the last few hours of my precious Alex-time with anyone else.”
“Oh, stop.” Alex shook his head and sat back down in front of his laptop. “You know, if we want to release anything, we should get back to work.” He clicked around in the file he had been working on before I distracted him. “By the way, we also need a band name.”
“What about the one you’ve been using until now?”
“You mean Brodie? That’s just my last name.”
“That… huh. I hadn’t thought about that. I guess your last name is perfect for a musician.”
“Yeah, I’ve always liked it too, but I don’t think I want to use it for the band. I’d rather find something that fits us both.”
“Fair enough. But let’s put that on the back burner for now. We can brainstorm names over the phone, too.”
“We’ll find something,” Alex said, and it took him about half a nanosecond to be fully absorbed in the song again.
The playback floated through the room, pausing every few seconds and restarting from the beginning, as he fine-tuned a synthesizer.
He looped four seconds of the song, making the short clip sound like a strange techno remix. His brows knit together as he brought his ears closer to the monitor.
“Mind if I crank up the volume for a second?”
“Not at all.”
He turned the knob on his studio monitor, bringing the loop to an almost ear-shattering volume, which made me wonder how his sensitive ears could handle it. Then again, when it came to music, he was different.
I could have watched him do that for hours.
If only I didn’t have to leave again so soon.
Sure, I enjoyed living in Vegas. Despite the challenging classes and the hard reality that hit me in the first semester—that I actually had to work if I wanted to make it in the hotel industry—college was a lot of fun.
But that was nothing compared to my time with Alex.
Thanks to him, I finally had a clear idea of at least some of the things I wanted to do in the future, all of which involved him.
“Oh, man.” Alex’s tension dissolved into a chuckle. With practiced ease, he grabbed a fader on the track and stopped the song. Without explaining what exactly he had heard or changed, he turned to me. “Wanna hear the new version?”
“Of course.” I scooted toward him across the bed, hopped down onto the floor, and sat next to him, brushing my left knee against his as he started the track from the beginning.
The beat filled the room at the same ear-shattering volume, but as he leaned forward to turn it down a bit, I grabbed his wrist to stop him. “This is our last chance to hear it at full volume together for a while,” I reminded him.
We both gave ourselves over to the melody. He closed his eyes and focused on the music. I followed his lead. Our recorded voices danced through the track as if the electronic strings were wind, carrying them higher and higher until they reached outer space.
My feet tapped in time, and when Alex joined in, the floor quaked slightly, almost as if the whole house was enjoying the sound too.
At the peak of the chorus, the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth voices we had recorded earlier that morning blended in, turning our duet into a full choir—when suddenly, the floor shook hard.
Alex’s hand darted to my knee and tapped me twice. Just as I opened my eyes, he stopped the song.
Footsteps pounded through the hallway, coming closer.
When the person they belonged to appeared in the doorframe, my heart dropped into my stomach.
It was my dad.