One half of my heart's asleep;
Today marked the nerve-wracking date of the studio visit- and possibly the moment that would determine my entire career. My day started with the frightening knocks on the door of my bedroom, and Joe yelling for me to get my 'lazy ass out of bed'. Not like I was expecting any different from him.
Once I finished a bowl of sugar loaded cereal, I threw on the best casual dress I owned and hurried toward the door, where Joe was waiting in the car, headbanging to some Green Day. As I slid into the back seat behind Patrick, I slammed the door, adjusting the painful straps of my dress.
"So, who's ready to see a recording studio?" Joe called out with cringe inducing enthusiasm. "Melanie is!" he answered before I had time to speak.
"Okay, Joe," I chuckled, gazing at houses zipping by us. The ride over was slightest bit awkward, mostly since Patrick didn't say a word the entire road over. Based on his first impressions when meeting me, he was very outgoing and talkative. But not today.
"You okay?" I asked Patrick timidly as I stepped out of the car and onto the bleached pavement.
"Yeah, why do you ask?"
I shrugged. "You're just kinda.... quiet." I was definitely worried, and I was sure he could see that.
"Don't worry about it," was all he said as he held the door of the studio open for me. I let that sink in slowly. I had no time to be nervous. The studio was a decent size, with mixers and equalizers and all of the tech I had never seen. A glass room was closed off from the rest of the studio, where I assumed the actual recording was done.
"So, this is where the magic happens..." Joe smiled, sitting in front of the recording gadgets.
"Is anyone else here?" I asked, my gaze travelling around the studio.
"Nope. I asked our manager if we could use it for a little while. Nobody else should be here."
"Sweet. So, want to sing something?" Patrick smiled and pushed open the sealed door leading to the recording room.
I pressed my lips together in a thin line. "Eh, that's okay."
"You sure?" Patrick grinned, pushing the door open further, as if waiting for me.
"Oh, alright," I accepted, finally giving in to his offer. Joe handed me a pair of headphones and lightly nudged me into the room. It was intense, like a performance. My knees shook as I stepped up to the microphone directly in front of the glass wall separating me from Patrick and Joe.
"Mel, can you hear me okay?" Joe's crackling voice spoke through the headphones. I nodded, twiddling my thumbs as I wracked my brain on what song to sing. I finally decided on "I Don't Love You" by My Chemical Romance.
"Good choice." I heard Patrick mutter as his thumbs danced about his phone screen. Joe adjusted some settings on the computer before giving me a thumbs-up.
"I have the instrumental ready. Whenever you're ready!" I inhaled, and with the exhale, I lowered the microphone to my lips, squeezing my eyes shut before I told Joe I was ready. The music began, and I took one more deep breath before I began to sing.
Well, when you go
So, don't ever think I'll make you try to stay
And maybe when you get back
I'll be off to find another way
When after all this time that you still owe
You're still a good for nothing I don't know
So take your gloves and get out
Better get out while you can
When you go and would you even turn to say
"I don't love you like I did yesterday?"
My trembling lips shifted into a smile as I sang the lyrics with passion and as much strength I could muster within my vocal chords. I was having so much fun with it, I barely noticed Patrick as he stealthily left the studio with his phone pressed to his ear. And then I knew- something else was going on.
