dreamglow

21

Jungkook

February 17, 2019

"Look. It's just two songs. Doable," Cindy says, pacing around the kitchen with her bowl of oatmeal. "I'll market the shit out of you. We won't hire professionals. It's your first five songs, we can just work with equally talented people, maybe our age or something. You know, other indie artists and stuff. It's just a matter of getting this out. It doesn't have to be perfect, right?"

She has a point. And also, she's been convincing me not to give up for two days now, non-stop. As hard as it gets, I really don't have excuses not to finish the EP, even with the unsatisfying budget I have and a suitcase of suffocating fear I drag behind me all the way.

I stick a spoon of oats into my mouth, out of words and tired. I don't feel like doing anything anymore. It's too heavy on me. I want to hide and wait it through until everything improves. But nothing can improve if I don't work for that.

"We'll DM Troye Sivan once it's out, don't worry," she adds, and I snort.

"Of course, he's the most important to me." I joke, glancing at the reaction.

"Someone will get mad in here." She nods, eyes on the bowl. "And it won't be you."

At least between us everything is fine. Perfect, even. Sure, we fight over the mess and who will vacuum the carpet, like roommates/best friends/couple should. But it makes it perfect.

"Okay, I gotta go, I'll be late." I drop the bowl into the sink, throw a water bottle into my backpack, spend a bit too long on a goodbye kiss, and run out of the apartment. I still go to school. Maybe I'm not an ace anymore, but it doesn't mean I don't have to attend classes. As long as I'll finish this year, even with shitty grades, no one will contact my parents. And I want to avoid having to tell my teachers that I was kicked out of my own house. I still live there on paper, but no one needs to know the truth.

It's just two songs. Doable. Yeah, but stressful. Especially on top of everything else – school, earning money, recording covers, and having no idea if things I'm doing make sense. They seem crazy, but obvious, so I step into them despite paralyzing fear I deal with every day.

I can record two song. I can find people to work on. I can release and promote a bunch of song. I can. There is always a way, and if it fails, there are probably twenty different paths to take. It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't, but I want it to be. If the first thing I put out, even if low budget, is perfect, people will stick around.

I can do it.

March 1, 2019

I work on the songs. Day in, day out. Morning, evening, night - whenever I have the time. I don't even want to call it an EP, so I settle for 'a bunch of singles I will upload on YouTube'. It feels too scary to "release an EP" and Cindy doesn't fight me on this one.

I work harder, longer, more. The first three songs just poured out of me, and all I had to worry about was the melody and the lyrics. The producer took care of the rest. Now, not only do I have to do majority of the things by myself, nothing that I make is good enough. Nothing will impress people enough to stay with me. To buy the next album, if I ever release it. I end up crying in the studio by myself at least three times a week.

School gets hectic and I barely pass the subjects. I don't even bother cheating on tests anymore. I used to so that my parents wouldn't punish me, but now they won't. I would never be the nerdy type if it wasn't for them in the first place.