𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝, guy germaine

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 | somewhere

     "WHERE, IT DON'T MATTER, long as we're goin' somewhere together - I've got a quarter: heads Carolina, tails California..."

As I finished up that take of the song, I could see Mason and the audio producer still seemed on the fence about it. We had been having me try a few songs that had been floating around the label to see if any would be a good single for me, but none of them were feeling right. This one at least felt more right than some of the others - I could relate to wanting to pick up and fly away, and I think a lot of teenagers could too.

"I think it's too pop-country..." Mason pressed the microphone button so I could hear it from the booth. "Can we make it a more country orchestration, James?"
"I dunno... people don't want a teenage girl singing real country. They like 'em to stick to bein' Debbie Gibson and everything."
Though he didn't speak that on the microphone, I could still hear him.

While the label thought I was really talented, they were very uncertain on how to market me. The marketing department thought I looked too mature to be a teen artist, but they felt an audience would be uncomfortable if I was promoted like an adult if they found I wasn't one. Because I had a depth to my talent - by that, I mean I could play an instrument - they felt my talents wouldn't serve a teen artist so well. But the question remained... if I wasn't a teenage artist, then what was I?

Not to mention 90 percent of the songs floating around the record company for use were all meant for artists at least in their 20s.

I walked out of the recording booth, back out to the two of them. "I could try it again, and you guys could think about the background. I really feel like this one could work."
"Eh, I have another one you could try for next week." Mason passed me another piece of sheet music.
"You know, I could always write something too... might need some steering, but I could try."
"Alright, how about we have you try it?"
I was really shocked he said yes - that must be a sign we're running out of options.

"What should I write about? How should I write it?"
"Write from the heart, we'll worry about the instrumental later."
"Ok, thanks Mason, thanks James." I smiled as I left, always trying to leave a good impression.

Day six... still no song, no vision.

At least now I had a few days to write, though today would probably be the best time to get it done. I wasn't exactly bored these days.

I spent Wednesday through Sunday busking in the morning and afternoon and waitressing in the evening - Monday and Tuesday were my days in the studio, along with occasionally busking and keeping up with various home chores. I really did try to busk those evenings, but it was more dangerous as we hit the peak of summer, and less effective when there were a lot of bars playing their own music.

The sun on my skin was nice, but it wasn't long until sweat clung in small drops on my neck and arms - this time of year, mid July, tended to do that. And I always tried to ignore it, but that didn't work so much.

It was getting especially hard to ignore as the more humid it got, the less mama could breathe. All we could really do was keep a fan by her and sit her by a window when things were hard. Our apartment wasn't exactly hot, but it didn't have AC, just a few fans. When we ran them all and kept the shades down it was tolerable, but mama needed good air these days.

I was secretly saving for an AC unit, using the money Guy had given me since I had kept it hidden for an emergency, but this felt "emergency enough" to use it. So far I had the hundred dollars he gave me, and 50 I made in additional extra tips. I was hoping beyond hope that Judson would take me up on the offer that if he bought the unit, I'd pay the electric bill for it, which would end up equal in amount.