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I can’t like him at all.
nine
Night to Remember
Cooper
Penny is always my last class of the day, which is refreshing because she’s also my most talented student. Even surpassing Ethan. She’s working on her own composition that she’s also writing with Sloane’s help during this session. We’ve had to shift gears several times as the song often changes in her writing classes.
Today is the first day I’m getting a glimpse at the lyrics so far. I’m pretty sure these will change, too, as the song takes shape. Lyrics aren’t typically a part of my writing process since Jake takes care of that part, but I do take them into consideration. The words of a song can sometimes set the tone for the melody, but it can also work in reverse. There have been many times that I’ll write a melody, and Jake will take it and run with it. It’s a symbiotic relationship, and every song is different.
In writing our next album, we’ve been working with Jude Lockwood, bass player for Indigo King, and using his home studio for our brainstorming sessions. It feels different this time with Skyler, now our permanent drummer, but it’s also different because we’re all clear-headed. We’re not all hungover trying to cobble notes and words together to form a song.
We’re now writing with a purpose, not just to fuck around. The songs have a deeper meaning now, too, with Andy gone, and it’s cathartic to work through those feelings, whether we consciously realize we’re doing it or not. And Jude has been incredibly supportive and able to keep the mood light when it feels like it’s about to bottom out. He knows how to crack a lighthearted joke or say the right thing to get us back on track, but he doesn’t interfere with our process. It’s been amazing so far.
So, hearing Penny’s song from where it started to where it is now in such a short time is beyond impressive. She truly is gifted. I wonder how much of the improvement is Sloane’s influence.
After meeting Sloane for the first time, I did an internet search of her and found what amounted to an interesting story. She was an up-and-coming singer-songwriter who seemed to have a massive career in front of her, making quite a name for herself. Her songs climbed the indie-alternative charts before she was signed to a record deal.
However, things seemed to have gone south once she signed that deal. No reasons were given, but her online music disappeared like it never existed. She never released another song, and the label even sued her for breach of the recording contract. It was settled out of court, but details of the suit or its result have been sealed. Neither Sloane nor the record label has discussed it publicly, and questions have been asked. They just gave the same ‘no comment’ reply when broached with the topic. Eventually, the press got bored with it and stopped asking. But even now, if Sloane is asked about it in interviews for the Rhapsody Foundation, she decisively shuts the question down.
I’m dying to know what happened.
It’s not just idle curiosity, either. Something in me needs to understand what fractured her trust and hardened her so completely. If I can unravel the secrets of her past, maybe I can solve the puzzle that is her.
I have this urge to be the one to break through those walls she’s constructed. To be the one she finally opens up to and confides in. The thought of earning that kind of intimacy with someone so closed off is intoxicating.
I also get that I’m the last person Sloane would tell that story to.
“Cooper? Here’s a first draft of the lyrics if you want to look at them.” Penny’s eyes are eager and hopeful, so I take her notebook from her, noticing the two different sets of handwriting in the notations in the margins of the pages. Somehow, I can tell which writing is Sloane’s, and I run my thumb over the ink imprints of her words, trying to get a sense of her through osmosis for some reason. As if the handwriting can give me some insight into the person behind it.
I blink a few times, clearing my stray thoughts, and focus on the words.
In the twilight of my world, lost in a sea of dreams,
I hide my heart behind a veil of silent, tortured screams,
My love for you is a secret, a sacred timeless art,
I paint all of my emotions on the hidden canvas of my heart.
But you’re the distant star that I can’t ever reach,
My feelings crash like waves upon a faraway beach,
I watch you from the shadows with a silent, aching plea,
You’re the one who holds my soul but doesn’t even see.
(Chorus)
I’m a poet in the night, my heart forever alone,
A captive bird sings its secret song, in love but still just one,
In this realm of foolish love, I wear my broken crown,
A bittersweet, timeless tale where my heart remains spellbound.
