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“The track. What doyou think?”

“It doesn’t sound like my song.”

“Okay, hold on.” Marvin slides out a keyboard from underneath the recording equipment. “Give methe chords.”

Marvin is a whiz. A musical marvel. With Peyton’s guidance he produces a basic backing track in fifteen minutes.

“This is a rough idea. I can fine-tune it once we’re done here, but this is just to help you with the vocals; they’re the most important part.”

Peyton nods. Her body shakes. She opens her mouth to sing the first line and forgets itcompletely.

“Can we turn the music down a little bit? It’s distracting,”Peyton asks.

“Sure.” Marvin adjusts one of the thousands of buttons that surround him.

The first verse is shaky. Her voice is unprepared. She stops three times, apologises and starts again from the top. Each time her heart beats faster.

“Let’s do that second line again, Peyton,”Marvin says.

You’re messing this whole thing up.

You’re better than this.

You’re just singing; stop being soridiculous.

Yelling at herself internally works in most situations. This one is different. There’s something missing. There’s a childlike instinct in her and it’s screaming:Ineed mymom!

“You’re doing great, Peyton. Just a little bit stronger on the last line leading intothe chorus.”

Breathe. Try again.

“The last part of the chorus needs a bit more emotion.”

Breathe.Keep trying.

“Try dropping down at the end of the second verse before we pick up again intothe chorus.”

Breathe. Youcan do this.

Peyton sings the song through at least five times. She re-records numerous lines and sections. She looks at Marvin for some gauge on how she’s doing, but his face is flat and focused. She’s unsure of the time, but there’s no light coming through the small rectangular windows at the top of the basement anymore, so she knows it’safter dark.

“I think we’re done.” Marvin leans back and stretches out his entire body. “Great work, Peyton.”

She removes the headphones and steps outside of the booth. Avery isn’t there anymore, and Jesse is draped across the chesterfield sofa.

“How was that?”Marvin asks.

“Terrifying.” She smiles nervously.

“Don’t worry, you did great. You really started to adjust to your surroundings towards the end; your voice soundedfantastic.”

“Thank you.” She grabs her phone off the side. She has a missed call from Cleo and one from her dad. “So, what now?”

“I will make some edits on the track tomorrow; I’ll master it and we can have a listen.” He saysso casually.

“I meant with Avery. I came here to help with some songs, and we haven’t done that. I feel bad. Should I come back another day?”Peyton asks.

“Sure. I have plans for Avery.” Marvin says unconvincingly. “We can arrange another session soon.”