Page 123 of Ember

Ben let me use his headphones and clicked some buttons. The basic track of the song played without lyrics. It was mostly guitar, and low enough that I could hear myself think.

“That is so cool.” I pulled Ben into a hug, and he looked pleased. “Which is so sexy.” I kissed his cheek, reining myself in. “Later.”

I handed him back his headphones, and he nodded at the other two. Rian was standing, and they started the song over again.

The added piano helped, or maybe it was the combined energy, because Kinsey seemed more comfortable. He gestured with his hand, shifting his weight as he got into the song, his voice a combination of anguish and reprisal, especially when he landed on the refrain, “nothing left but ashes.”

Ben and Rian both got into the song, Rian strumming his guitar, and nodding at Kinsey.

Ben played along, and I’d never get tired of watching him play. The piano track was upbeat and bouncy, a nice counterbalance that brought the song almost into seventies rock and roll vibe. It was an elevated version of the rockabilly vibe from Kinsey’s first album.

They finished, grinning at each other.

“This is definitely the next bar anthem,” I said, and Kinsey laughed.

“It’s true.” Ben nodded. “They’re going to eat this up.”

“The bridge isn’t right.” Kinsey made a face. He was massive and had his hands shoved in his pockets like he was trying to make himself seem smaller.

“Another!” Rian said, throwing his hands into the air.

“That’s not excessive?” Kinsey frowned. “It usually doesn’t take this many takes…”

“Oh, this is nothing,” Ben said darkly. “There’s a couple of artists who will spend three days on one bridge.”

Rian sighed. “More’s the pity on you, Ben. Surrounding yourself with a bunch of neurotic artists.”

Ben gave a mock sigh. “It comes with the territory.”

I snorted and elbowed Ben gently. “Like you don’t sit on your laptop and obsess over the layering for hours?”

“Shhh, whose side are you on?” He laughed, looking surprised. “Throwing me under the bus.”

“It’s why he’s the best.” Kinsey beamed.

They went through the song again, and I could hear what Kinsey was saying. Each time they got to the bridge, even though the lyrics and notes didn’t change, the energy of the song shifted. I frowned, waiting for Kinsey to pick up the notes and go higher.

My brain supplied a hundred other songs that, as one option, included the slow breakdown, where all the instruments stopped and the audience clapped in time as the singer belted out the bridge of the song.

Or the other way, where the song went up in intensity. It felt like he was missing a note, which is probably why he tried various emotional versions of the bridge.

Kinsey looked at me as soon as they stopped. “Spill the beans, Ember. You had an idea.”

I shook my head. “I heard what you’re saying. I’m not a musician.”

Ben and Rian both rolled their eyes. “As if,” Rian said. “You’re an amazing singer, and you listen to more music than Ben and I combined.”

Kinsey arched an eyebrow.

“It’s your song,” I started, trying to figure out how to explain. “But you need the part in the song where you…”

I paused, trying to think of the words to explain. None of the men rushed me. Ben’s hand found the small of my back and did little circles, and Rian was watching me like I invented fire. Like I was the center of the universe.

Rian had a part I was trying to describe in one of his songs. I cleared my throat. “You know how in ‘Phoenix Song’ by Burns.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kinsey said without looking at Rian. “One of the best tracks onFrom Ashes.”

“I don’t know what it’s called.” I gave Rian a nervous look, but he didn’t seem upset. “At the end, where it does the thing…”

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