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“Hell yeah!” From Tennyson.
“It’s perfect.” From Austen.
Smith claps earnestly while Zach whistles.
Kelvin and Bailey give more modest applause.
And then there’s Miguel and Aiden who keep completely quiet, their focus on the television. I’d been shocked when they accepted my invitation to join today. I think most of it was curiosity, since I hadn’t let anyone besides the producer hear the finished tracks.
For every piece I needed, I made sure to have everyone come in at different times. That meant some days, Tenn would come in to help me with something while Austen showed up on others. Even then, they could only hear what they added to the story rather than getting the full masterpiece.
At least, I think it’s a masterpiece.
“May I ask why the bold choice?” Miguel inquires.
I turn to look at the screen behind me. The image of our album cover wasn’t at all what I would have thought it would be. Especially not with the music behind the cover itself.
On a pewter blue backdrop sits an image more suited for Halloween. A skeleton couple, one tall and the other shorter, are locked in an embrace. Cobwebs, spiders, and bats surround the image in a simple vector style. The bottom left corner shows our name, but with a slight change.
Whereas the band is called Loveless, the word 'less' in the image is marked through with a red bar. It’s meant to represent the title: No Less.
I wanted to go with Love as the title, but I was outvoted on that. Mostly by Tenn and the band. They felt it was too confusing. I’m not sure how No Less is any easier to understand, but it fits the bill well enough.
“People aren’t going to expect what they find on this album. I figured the conversation could start with the cover art and go from there,” I finally answer.
Most bands these days have selfies as their artwork. That or it’s the hottest model of the time to get people excited to pick it up.
I want my album to be one people are curious about. But I also want them to collect it because of the music behind it.
Taking a deep breath, I queue the first song. “I present to you, the next Loveless album. Enjoy.”
I sit on a chair off to the side of the room as the first song begins. This one has Miguel grinning since it’s one of the ones I played for him in his office the day he announced to the press that he was taking over SoulSource.
There are nods of approval from the rest of the group as they soak in the tunes. When the first track ends, the transition is so smooth, you don’t realize the next song is playing until you’re well into it.
Shock. Amusement. Curiosity.
Each of my friends has a different reaction to the shift. Thankfully, none of them are negative. The only person not outwardly expressing anything is Austen.
My boyfriend sits stock still in his seat, his gaze locked on the television as the lyrics play on the screen. The production guy thought I was weird for wanting them in the final mix I had him do for me, but after I explained the listening party, he was cool about it. Now, I’m second guessing myself since the words appear to be all he cares about.
Granted, the words are all about him, all for him. I’d likely be more upset if he ignored them.
Three more songs go by, and the energy of the room is picking up. Zach, Aiden, and Bailey are all standing and swaying to the music, while Kelvin, Austen, Tenn, Smith, and Miguel remain seated. The clear break of personalities almost makes me laugh.
I can’t though. Not when I know we’re climbing to the peak of the story I’ve crafted.
See, what they don’t know is that I didn’t just write one song about me and Austen. It’s an entire album. And more than that, the album builds. I sing of love lost before it is won and craving someone so badly you feel sick. I speak of missing something you’ve never experienced and knowing you shouldn’t go there but not being able to stop.
We make it all the way to the finale before Austen breaks. As the opening lyrics to “Always Been Mine” play, his eyes widen. Tears well in an instant, which has me up from my chair before I can think better of it.
Kneeling on the floor in front of his chair, I cup his face. “Shhh,” I coo.
His hand covers my mouth as his forehead presses against mine. The lyrics I wrote for him, the song of my soul, plays as the soundtrack to the moment. It’s everything I could have wished for and more.
As soon as the song fades away, I’m pulled into a hard kiss. The guys around us cheer, their voices layering over one another as they discuss their favorite songs. It’s all background noise as I soak in Austen’s love.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both crying. And then we’re laughing at the fact that we’re both in tears.
