2 kids

Artists.

Alex.

The preparations for the album are running wild. Everyone, from us to the management and production team to the staff, is busy.

It's our third album and with each song produced, a small fragment of us is introduced. Tiny, almost microscopic. Our debut album was produced with very little hope to actually get noticed and offer us a chance to produce a second one. It was like a prologue to the story. We only showed what we hope to achieve. In the second album, which was produced in a surprisingly short amount of time, we introduced our word plays, our ideas and all the concepts waiting ahead of us, while providing our fans a metaphorical snippet of our personal lives. But everything was still covered with a foggy blur.

What we've created is a story. We've made everything connect like a story – from the very first teaser we've released to the latest music video. We're in the process of creating a chain reaction – everything connects to everything. It's just about understanding the wider picture, reading between the lines and putting the facts together.

Heather says we have a talent for covering those facts, making them unnoticeable at first. Ciara struggled finding some connections, and she's the most attentive person I know. Nico was amazed by Mae's speech on what we had planned. All our friends have openly said they feel sorry for all those clueless people enjoying our music.

Life's a story, and so is our art.

I scan the list in my hands very carefully, making sure to read every single word. I'm holding a sort of precious piece of paper in my hands – the suggested final line-up of songs.

But as much as I can objectively say the suggestions are good, subjectively I don't agree. Whoever in the production team actually made this list, obviously forgot to acknowledge the fact that our songs are a confession of ours and they all tell a story.

"You don't seem satisfied," a voice says from behind me. I get startled a bit, but don't turn around.

The person, the strange man we've been working with for the past two months or so, walks around me. His hands are shoved deeply into his pockets, making it seem like the pockets are infinitive. Once again he's dressed in the same black pants, a simple white shirt and a casual black blazer jacket.

I don't say anything, just hold the paper in my hands like a little child that's been sent home with a note from the principal.

"Please, tell me what you don't agree with."

Over the past few weeks I've reached the conclusion our relationship is similar to what I had with AJ. According to many, AJ was a scary man I was always advised to keep a safe distance from. Though no one has ever labelled this man as dangerous, he's been described as a scary man. Perhaps I'm lacking some common sense, but I've never feared him. I have a strong respect for him and his work, a respect words couldn't describe.

Yet I'm incapable of speaking.

"I don't bite, do I, Alex?"

When did he learn my name, I ask myself. He's known to have worked with a lot of people, but only a few have had the honour to be remembered by him.

"The final suggested line-up of songs for the album," I begin and lower the paper. Subconsciously I relax my shoulders and approach him as another collaborator, working on our album. He might be more known, more respected and overall twice as talented as the four of us combined together, but it's still us who have the upper hand. "I don't agree with it."

He raises his eyebrow, inhumanly too slow, and asks me to continue.

"We've created a story of our lives," I begin to explain. "The songs connect to one another, they're each a story with a different meaning, yet they all connect. They're all a part of the chain of stories from our lives. Our songs are a...confession, or multiple personal confessions."