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“You like a lot about it?” Van presses. “What’s that supposed to mean, Gregory?”
“It means that there’s still something missing,” he muses, before he shoots a look over at me. “Cameron, how involved were you in the songwriting process?”
“Involved enough,” I reply. “I mean, I mostly just let Alyssa and Van do their thing. And I followed Rhys’s lead with the instrumental parts—”
“Got it. There’s the problem right there.” Gregory chuckles. “You shouldn’t be following Rhys’s lead with anything, Cameron. Don’t get me wrong. He’s a phenomenal guitar player, but we all know that you’re the heart and soul when it comes to melody and song construction.”
“Right. No offense taken.” Rhys scoffs.
“I think you need to take another pass at these backing tracks, Cameron,” Gregory continues.
“You mean you want us to re-record everything?” Alyssa frowns.
“Not necessarily,” Gregory answers. “But I am going to need a few more standout tracks. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure I let you know which ones need to have a little something more added to them. But tracks like ‘Edge of Disaster’? No one needs to touch that one. It’s perfect.”
Alyssa lets out an overexaggerated sigh of relief, before she beams back at Gregory.
Van and Rhys then start to beam right along with her, like they’re all in sync with each other.
And I turn my attention back to Gregory, no longer interested in looking at the confusing scene unfolding beside me. “When did you want me to start working on the instrumentals, Gregory?”
“As soon as possible,” he replies. “And you’d be a fool if you don’t include Alyssa in the process, too.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have me work with Rhys or Van—”
“No.” Gregory shakes his head as he speaks. “That’s the past and I’m looking at this for the long-term. Besides, I want her to have a better ear by the end of this process, and you’re the ideal person to help in that department.”
“…Okay, then,” I mutter, slightly sinking into my chair. I’ve been determined to avoid spending too much time alone with Alyssa after that strange fantasy of mine popped into my head after our first concert. And with the way Rhys and Van have been acting lately, I’m honestly a little terrified to find out the truth behind their behavior, to get to the bottom of what has them cast under this particular spell.
What has them cast under Alyssa’s spell.
I inwardly groan at the thought of it, even as I offer Gregory a polite nod in return, pretending like I’m up for anything, pretending like I don’t want to run right out of his office and fall back into the seclusion of studio sessions with just me and my keys.
* * *
“…What are we doing?”Alyssa asks as she follows behind me down the city streets. I turn to look at her, and she’s brushing her brown hair behind her ear, which is how I notice that she’s sporting a temporary henna tattoo, its design seeming extremely familiar to me. In the same instant, I realize that it’s a recreation of one of Rhys’s tattoos, the scrambled eggs he has drawn on his arm matching hers down to the dark lines around the yolk.
“We’re working on melodies like Gregory told us to do,” I answer, my tone lined with suspicion. “Did Rhys approve of that? On your arm?”
“Rhys is the one who drew it.” Alyssa lightly chuckles. “I told him that I’m too much of a baby to get a real one, so he said this is basically the next best thing.”
“So, you and Rhys…” My words trail off as I ask the question. “You’re back together?”
“Or I just liked the tattoo.” Alyssa smiles before changing the subject. “Anyway, how are we supposed to be working on melodies when we’re not even in the studio?”
“It’s an old trick of mine,” I answer. “Rhys sometimes makes fun of me for it, and Van usually calls it pretentious. Which is rich criticism, coming from Van Wilson, a man who’d threaten to walk if there were ever a little typo on one of his lyric sheets.”
Alyssa chuckles again, before she asks, “So? What’s the old trick?”
“Listening to the city,” I reply. “It’s crazy how you can find melodies in the strangest places. I once got inspiration from the way it sounded when a guy couldn’t get his engine to start, around the same time as someone passing by me on roller skates—”
“‘Dear Heart, Dear Heart,’” Alyssa interrupts me with a grin. “Track number seven on the album. Right? Van and I had a hard time coming up with lyrics to match the sound, but I knew from the first moment I heard it that it was something special.”
“Yep. That’s the one.” I smile back at her. “I don’t know why Gregory thinks you need any more work on your musical ear. Hell, even Rhys probably couldn’t pick up on something like that.”
“He just wants me to be the best that I can be,” she replies. “Which is what I want too, so I’d say it’s working out pretty great.”
“…What made you want to get into music, anyway?” I ask.
