Brooklyn - Taylor Swift

Part 17

As I dove headfirst into work, my love for music and songwriting consumed me. Days and nights melded together, and time seemed to slip away. Teddy and Mick's departure left a void in my heart, an emptiness I couldn't put into words. But in that emptiness, I found comfort and a sense of direction by crafting melodies that resonated with the depths of my soul. They told me always to call them when I needed them, but I would hate to disturb their healing by reaching out. I can manage.

My home studio underwent a transformation, becoming more than just a room. It became my sanctuary, a fortress where creativity thrived. Guitars adorned the walls, each one a work of art, while keyboards hummed with vibrant energy. The room buzzed with the gentle touch of my fingers on piano keys and the strumming of guitar strings.

Amidst this symphony of instruments, lyrics and chord progressions floated across my desk, purposefully scattered. Motivational quotes and pictures from our unforgettable adventures lined the walls, reminding me of the memories we shared and fueling my inspiration.

In the midst of my musical pursuits, our manager, Lanie, started getting more and more worried about me. She knew I needed some alone time, but she also had genuine concerns for my well-being. One evening, as the sky turned all shades of pink and orange, there was a soft knock on my studio door. Lanie's voice called out, "Hey, Andy. Can we chat?"I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to disrupt my creative flow, but eventually got up and opened the door. Lanie stepped in, her expression a mix of compassion and determination. 

She looked around the studio, clearly impressed. "Damn, Andy. This place is something else. But I'm seriously worried about you. It's been a whole month, and nobody has heard from you. The boys have been blowing up my phone, trying to find out where you've been hiding."

I mustered a weak smile, knowing she genuinely cared. "I get it, Lanie. I just needed some time to process everything, you know? And being in this studio, making music... it's like my escape. When I'm here, strumming a guitar or tinkering with the keys, it somehow eases the pain a little."

Lanie nodded, her expression softening. "I get it, Andy. Music means the world to you, and I respect that. But you can't keep shutting yourself off from everything else. Your brothers care about you, and if they knew how much you were struggling, they'd drop everything to be by your side."

Her words hit me hard, stirring up a wave of guilt. I knew she was right—I had been so consumed by the creative frenzy that I had forgotten to take care of myself. With a sigh, I gathered my courage and admitted, "You're right, Lanie. I can't keep hiding away. But I just need a little more time to figure things out. This room is the only place where everything feels clear."

Lanie stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. She had always been like a mother to me, someone who truly understood. "I get it, Andy. I really do. Your dedication is admirable, and I know how important music is to you. So here's the deal: I'll give you two more weeks to work in here without any interruptions. But after that, you have to promise me that you'll take a break and come back to the real world, even if it's just for a little while. 

Can we agree on that?"Laine's idea sounded pretty reasonable, so I gave her a nod and said, "Deal."

For the next two weeks, I kept on going with my creative spree, taking Laine's advice to take care of myself seriously. I realized it was important to find a balance between work and some much-needed rejuvenation and connection with others. So, I threw myself into my artistic endeavours but also made an effort to step outside once in a while.

I started making it a habit to soak up the sun and breathe in the fresh air outside. I'd find a spot on the roof of the building and just sit there, enjoying the warmth and peace of nature. These simple moments became a source of comfort for me, helping me find solace in the midst of all the craziness that comes with being immersed in my creative process.