Waiting To Fly

Chapter Two: Stella

They tell you to follow your dreams. They tell you not to give up until you get there. They make you work SO FREAKING HARD to reach the top. They make you give it your everything, and you're lead to believe what you're working for is something you actually want. But then, when you actually get there- when you actually achieve what you set out to achieve- it's not what it's cut out to be.

All my life I thought I wanted to be a pop star. I was conditioned to think that was the only way of making it. Of being worth anything in this industry. The only way to be "validated" or whatever. The only way to make any kind of impact on the world or people's lives. And I fell for it. I fell so hard, I'm telling you. 

Today I had yet another writing session that my label had set up for me. No matter how many times I tell them I'd rather write on my own, they won't hear of it. No songwriter I'd worked with understood who I was as an artist. And in all the sessions I've had, we haven't written anything I've liked. Today was someone new- a man called David Lane. Just as with everyone before him, I walked into the building hoping he wouldn't be like the rest of them, although at this point, I didn't have too much hope left. 

The room was small and white, and he was sitting at a white fold out table. He had slicked back brown hair and was wearing a suit. His eyes were grey. 

"Ah, Stella!" he said, raising his eyes as I came in. "Do take a seat."

"Thank you," I said as I sat down across from him. I already couldn't wait for this to be over.

We sat in awkward silence for a few moments, then he spoke.

"So, Stella," he said. "You're quite the star of the moment, aren't you? Certified platinum in the first week of release and all... naturally, you're under a lot of pressure to match the, let's say, formidable success of Immortalisation. I mean, that record was huge!"

"Uh... yeah, I guess," I got out. I wished I could leave right then. This was going just like all the other sessions.

"I guess? Ha!" David threw back his head in laughter. "Well, I know you are. Sophomore records are tough- as tough as it gets. Not many artists can pull them off and do it well. That's why we really need to get- this- right." he accentuates those last three words far too much.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. I needed to be level headed if I wanted this to go differently from the other times. "I don't really care about sales that much, to be honest," I said. "I just want to make what... what feels right."

"What feels right? Ha!" he threw back his head in laughter again as if I'd just told a joke. "Listen, Stella: this is business. Sales are the be all and end all- if you don't make the buck, you're out of here. You've got to capitalise on that past success. You've got to prove that you deserve to be here at all. That you're not just a one hit wonder."

"David, please-"

"I know what I'm talking about," he cut me off. "So, let's look at your past successes. 'Waiting To Fly' had that really snappy, syncopated chorus, didn't it? That's what really got everyone singing it. All my life..." he starts singing and snapping his fingers.

"What use is it talking about 'Waiting To Fly?'" I tried again. "That song already exists. We're meant to be writing a new one."

"Ah, but Stella, we need to capitalise, remember?" he said as he leaned across the table, his breath reeking of toothpaste. "Capitalise on past successes, that's what we do in business- and we must never forget that this is a business." 

He reached into his bag, brought out a laptop and a tiny MIDI keyboard. He flicked open his laptop with a click, and turned it on. He wasn't even considerate enough to have everything set up when I arrived- that's a first. When his recording software was finally loaded- it took several minutes- he turned to me and said: "How about this?"

He picked out a melody on his MIDI keyboard. The melody was extremely similar to the chorus of "Waiting To Fly"- so similar, in fact, that I should've sued him for plagiarism.

"Ah- I've had an idea!" he said too brightly, as if it was the greatest freaking idea in the freaking world or something. Which, of course, it wasn't. "How about- Flying High? How's that as a title?"

I'm done with this. "But that's too similar," I objected. "People will notice."

"Of course they will! Ha!" David threw his head back in laughter yet again. "They'll love it! This is a sequel song- fans love it when artists get self referential! You've got to build your persona, Stella- you've got to show them character development. You were waiting to fly, but not anymore- now you're flying high. That's a neat storyline right there, you can't disagree on that."

"I don't want to be self referential, though," I told him. "I'm not that kind of artist. That's not me."

At this, his eyes lit up with another blasted idea. "And that's a great lyric right there!" he exclaimed. "That's not me... I'm not one to stay on the ground..."

It takes everything in me not to fling my arms in the air in exasperation. "I didn't mean that as a line-"

"Ah, but sometimes the best lines were never meant to be," he replied. "This song is going to be a smash hit. We'll be breaking records. Don't you feel it?"

I know if I open my mouth, "no" will slip out, so I just nod instead.

***

That afternoon, I sat over my laptop drinking pumpkin soup out of a cup, overwhelmingly relieved to be out of that session. At least it was Friday, I finished early and I had the evening and weekend to myself. No label calls or meetings. I felt quite free.

I was thinking of watching a movie, but for some reason, I just ended up scrolling through the comments on one of my old music videos for ages. I have no idea why- I just felt like doing something completely mindless. It's therapy after days like these. After a week like this one.

After about an hour of scrolling, one particular comment caught my eye. It was by someone called Lucy Valet. It said:

Hi Stella, I just wanted you to know that this song means a lot to me! Actually, all your songs really resonate with me and I'm your biggest fan. BY FAR! Everyone at my school says so XD I just thought I'd share a link to my original song "The Fire Inside." Of course I'm not expecting you to see this comment at all, but if you do, please listen to my song!

This was followed by a SoundCloud link. I clicked on it and pressed play on the song. It was obviously an iPhone recording, but that couldn't take away from my enjoyment of the song. As soon as her clear, pure voice entered, I got chills.

I'm just a small, scared little girl

That no one cares about

And these flames are devouring me 

From the inside out...

I'm not joking or making any kind of understatement when I say I was blown away. I hadn't been this impressed with a song for goodness knows how long. The lyrics, the chords, the voice- it was all reminding me why I got into music in the first place.

When will this turn around

So I can see my self on safer ground

Will the fire ever die away

Or will it always stay

By this point, I was straight up sobbing. Good thing no one else was around to see me. The lyrics were just hitting home too much- they were too relatable. I was that small scared little girl with the fire inside. I was the one who was pushed aside and ostracised for being "different." And even though now the world knows my name, I often feel like I still am.

When I've finished listening, I check her SoundCloud. This is the only song there. I check her YouTube channel. Nothing there. I Google her name. Nothing comes up. This must be her only song on the internet. Disappointment sets in- I wanted to listen to more from her.

I replied to her comment, thanking her and telling her how much I love her song. I told her how much I related to it. I even told that I cried. For the first time in a long time, I felt understood.