MÅNESKIN ONE SHOTS

Red Light | Thomas Raggi

Moving to Italy seemed like a horrible idea, in theory. You dreamt of becoming a top producer, but to make it meant taking jobs anywhere and everywhere. Italy's music industry wasn't broad and didn't seem to be breaking out anytime soon.

You took the job anyway. Italy was a gorgeous country. You'd be crazy to decline an offer to live and work there. The decision was made. You moved to Rome, and that was that.

That was 2 years ago. You ended up liking Italy more than you initially thought you would. Most of the artists you worked with were excellent. They loved your suggestions and trusted your intuition from a producing point of view.

Most artists.

Måneskin joined the label a year after you did. They were pleasant, sure. They always were, except for when you were producing for them. They never listened, and if it weren't for the fact they were incredibly sweet outside the studio, you probably would've avoided them at any cost.

Ethan never had much to complain and Victoria usually just wanted a louder bass at all times. Damiano could be a real pain, complaining his voice didn't sound right. All of those things you could deal with. It was the usual you had to handle as a producer.

Thomas was the worst. Significant pain in your ass. Probably the reason you'd turn grey prematurely. At first glance, he didn't look like someone to make a fuss. You wholly expected Damiano to be the one causing you this much turmoil.

He had an opinion on quite literally everything. You respected artists opinions, but you had to retain a piece of your dignity and integrity as a producer.

In the beginning, he was timid, never caused you any trouble. He had a comment here or there, but nothing major. You were almost convinced he maybe just didn't speak English very well.

It changed the more you got to know them. It almost seemed that when Thomas got to know you, he started to dislike you more every time you saw him. He came out of the recording booth so much to tell you how to do your job, you'd started daydreaming about taping him to his guitar, keeping it plugged in at all times so he couldn't leave the studio.

Outside the studio, you got along with the group more and more. You'd gone out to lunch and dinner a couple times now, and you felt you finally started to bond with them. Thomas, sadly, wasn't included in the bonding experience.

You wanted to bond with the artists you were working for as much as possible. You wanted to see their point of view and understand their preferences and passion for their music. It usually ended up with the music sounding better and everybody's experiences being outright more enjoyable.

You tried not to dislike Thomas, yet he made it too hard.

"There you go again! Why can't you just do it the way I asked you to? Do you want me to do your job too? Do you want to switch? Do you want to play the guitar? Oh, right, you can't. I'm leaving."

Another breakdown from Thomas meant another 20-minute break where he went outside to smoke his anger away. You didn't understand what you did to him to make him dislike you this much.

Sometimes you tried to confide in Ethan. He was a man of little words, which became clear early on. He didn't usually say much when you were rambling about your newfound disliking of Thomas.

Other times you tried Damiano. He tried to listen and often offered solutions or reasoning with a stupid grin on his face. You knew he meant well, but he never took it all too serious. You attempted to explain that it was for the quality of his music, too, that this problem should be fixed.

Vic was too close to Thomas to be able to see your point of view on the situation. She'd listened once or twice to your hesitant grumble about him but quickly brushed it off as Thomas having an off day.