Great songwriting islike lightning in a bottle. Completely unpredictable. Each time I walk into the studio, I have the chance of writing a shitty song, an average song, a potential hit single, and—very rarely—a career-defining one.
Often, I end up writing a handful of shitty songs in a row before I’m able to knock out a couple of good ones. It’s all part of the process, one I’ve learned to trust over the years. But writing this album is different than normal because I’m going at it solo. Perhaps that’s why magic hit me today. Why the words flew out of me so effortlessly. Why I knew the moment I put my pencil down that this song was one in a million.
Tingles pass through my body as I stare at the yellow legal pad with my chicken-scratch handwriting across the page. I let out a deep breath, completely overwhelmed with what has come out of me in the past hour. Unable to believeIcould craft something like this. These lyrics are unlike any others I’ve written in my career, and I’m confident the fans will eat it up. The only question is whether I should even consider putting it out there.
Fuck. Why does this have to happen? I finally have one of the best writing sessions of my life, and the outcome is a song I don’t know should see the light of day. Although this album is extremely personal for Kate and me, this is on another level.
I shake my head, then sink deeper into the couch. Is it even worth figuring out the melody portion? Perhaps I should just throw the paper away and never think of it again. I close my eyes for a few minutes, hoping an answer will come to me about what to do.
Goddammit. I can practicallyhearthe music that accompanies these lyrics in my head. Why is songwriting never this easy except right now? Most songwriters would kill to be in this situation. Normally, I would, too, if the lyrics focused on a different subject.
Sitting up, I rest my elbow on my knees and drop my head into my hands. There are two options. Try to forget this song even existed, or finish it, record a demo, and figure out whether I want anyone to hear it. The first one is the safer choice, but my brain can’t stop playing this melody on repeat.
Over the next few hours, I’m fully locked into recording the demo and tweaking various aspects of the song on the mixing board. Completely lost in my own world, I don’t hear Jason come into the studio until he clears his throat.
I turn around in my chair to find him with a smirk on his face. “What are you doing here?” I ask, unsure why Jason’s at my house or when he got here. He rarely stops by unannounced, and when he does, it’s not usually a good thing.
Jason grins. “What are you working on?” He walks across the room and takes a seat on the couch.
“Songs for the album. Why are you avoiding my question?” My muscles tense, almost like they’re expecting him to say something that will frustrate me. “I’m not agreeing to anyother events, so you better not be here trying to talk me into something.”
Jason chuckles. “Definitely not going to try and do that today. Just stopped by to see how the album is coming along. The label is… How do I put this delicately? Concerned. Worried. Freaking the fuck out since you refuse to let them listen to anything.” He crosses one leg over his knee. “So, what was the song I heard when I came in? You’ve never written a ballad before.”
“It’s nothing. Just something I was tinkering with,” I reply nonchalantly, hoping he’ll let the topic go and interrogate me about the album instead.
“Don’t buy it. That sounded like a finished demo to me. A fucking good one at that.” His smile widens as his eyebrows arch. “I only heard about half of it, and if the rest is just as good…” He nods and lets out a low whistle. “That song could catapult your career into the next stratosphere. Millions of people would buy the album for that song alone. Do you have any idea the cross-genre exposure you’d get with something like that? Fuck. I need to start planning how to launch this single. It has to be bigger than anything we’ve done before.”
“Wait a minute. I didn’t sayanythingabout putting it on the album.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me? This could be the biggest song of your career. You’d be crazy not to use it.” Jason glares at me, almost like he’s trying to figure out why I would even consider such a bonehead move.
I glare right back at him, locked in a game of chicken, waiting to see who blinks first because I’m not going to cave easily. Not this time. Not when this song is about Kate and me. Not when it’s the most personal song I’veeverwritten.
Jason groans and finally blinks. “What’s the hold up on using it?”
“Obviously, the topic of the lyrics. I need to get Kate on board with releasing it. I’m not sure I’m even comfortable considering it, let alone talking to her about it. It’s very possible this song may never see the light of day.”
Jason shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “You’re insane. I get that you’re all happy and in love now.” He grimaces, as if being in love might be the worst possible thing to happen to a person. “But that doesn’t mean you can let moments like this pass you by. This song is fucking incredible. Ithasto be on the album. If the label heard it, they’d insist it’s the first single. Hell, they might even drop it weeks or months before the album’s release to drum up buzz. That’s the power this type of song could have for your career. And you want to throw all of that away?”
An unescapable growl comes out of me. “You’d better not say shit to the label about this song. Or anyone else.I’lldecide what I want to do with it whenI’mgoddamn ready. Not a minute before. Do not push me on this one.”
Jason holds his hands up. “Fine. You’re making a huge mistake if you don’t use it. A big fucking mistake.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
kate
“We can definitely implementthose changes for you. Is there anything else you’d like to see in the revised mockups?” I ask, leading a video call with one of my biggest clients from the comfort of the tour bus. On Fridays, I commandeer the table, turning it into a mini office so I can be productive while on the road. It’s not ideal by any means, but it works for the most part.
I jot down a few more notes as the call starts to wrap up when Jake comes bursting through the door.
“Hey, sweetheart. Gonna jump in the shower,” he calls out loudly.
I force a smile, trying to telepathically communicate I’m on a video call, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I clench my fists, hoping my headphones prevent anyone from hearing him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him stop at the fridge, downing a bottle of water and wiping his face with his shirt. Keeping my focus on the video call, I stare in horror as my boyfriend takes off his shirt as he walks to the bedroom. All of it is visible on my camera foreveryoneto see.
Fuck my life.
