Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

Let the Music Take over Your Soul Chapter 8

Parked under an expansive shade tree, Marlow popped the CD back into the player and reclined her seat. Looking up through the sunroof, leaves magically danced in the breeze along to the music. Mesmerized by the brief glimpses of blue sky peeking through the branches, she imagined sailing on a crystal blue-green Mediterranean Sea. Tracing her finger over each autograph, she questioned, how many thousands of times had the boys signed their names to things? Pressing the insert to her chest, Marlow closed her eyes and listened as three voices, one soul, romanced her.

Jolted out of her daydream by her alarm notifying her that it was time to deal with the reality of straight-back chairs, rows of desks, and her final four hours of long lectures, Marlow reluctantly closed everything up and exited her car.

***

Always finding it tough to sit through the last class of the day, today was even more torturous by time dragging on like a turtle stuck climbing a sand hill. Distracted by her neighbour doodling on his page, she found validation, knowing she wasn't the only one struggling to concentrate.

"Good luck on your exam," she heard her professor say. Confused that she had daydreamed away the last 40 minutes of her class, glancing at the clock on the wall, she smiled. The professor had ended the class early. Gathering up her things, Marlow exited the lecture hall and beelined it to the car. With her final year of university now completed, the only thing left was exams.

"Good afternoon, Quest Transport, Marlow speaking," she said, answering her phone while walking back to her car.

"Ciao, Bella," a familiar voice spoke. "We're going to be done earlier than

originally planned. Can you come now, or are you busy?"

Chuckling, Marlow said, "Wow, Piero, talk about perfect timing. My last class finished early as well. It'll take me half an hour or so, but I'll come."

***

Sitting behind a glass wall, Marlow listened as Gianluca recorded his part in another room. Fascinated by the multi-coloured bands of light flickering as the recording engineer pushed levers up or down, she whispered, "How long does it take to record one song?"

"You don't have to whisper," Piero said, squeezing her knee. "It depends on the complexity of the music and how many people are singing. Sometimes, we can get through a song within an hour; other times, it takes an entire day. Once we've laid down all the tracks, it's the music engineer's time to fine-tune and mix the tracks."

"Does Gianluca hear everyone singing or just his part?"

"He hears all of us, but his vocals are more pronounced. We've practiced this song many times long before coming into the studio. That way, we are all familiar with it. But I must confess that it still gives me chills whenever I hear the final product complete with full orchestra."

"I bet it does. I can't wait to hear the whole CD once it's out."

"I will personally make sure you get a copy before it goes out to the public,"

Piero said, squeezing her knee again.

"Awesome! Thank you."

Observing Gianluca remove his headphones and exit the live booth, Marlow waited to hear if everyone was ready to leave or needed to stay a little longer. As the boys freely conversed in Italian, her curiosity was piqued when she heard her name. Meeting their smiles with raised eyebrows, she asked, "What's up?"

"Come with me," Gianluca said, offering his hand.

"Where to?"

"Just come with me."