We Are In Love In NYC

Saturday Night

The best thing about living in Harlem for Layla was not only the sense of community and belonging it offered, but also the endless abundance of inspiration it provided for her daily life. The energetic streets and diverse culture of this Manhattan neighbourhood breathed life into her soul and fueled her creative spirit. As the first rays of sunlight awakened the residents down to the point the sun sets on the horizon, the streets of Harlem were a symphony of chatter from street markets and jazz sounds in the morning, the scent of soul food in the afternoon, and an eclectic energy at the night time. The streets came alive at night, transforming into a nocturnal wonderland with music spilling from lively nightclubs and speakeasies. It was also a stage for spoken word artists and poets to share their compelling narratives.

She infused this into her life as an indie producer, a classical composer and conductor of Harmonica, an all-black 14-women string orchestra named in loving tribute to her late mother, Monica Keating. Their upcoming performance at the iconic Carnegie Hall loomed on the horizon, and Layla found herself caught in a whirlwind of rehearsals and intense production sessions throughout the week. As the days led up to the show which was the coming Friday, she poured her heart and soul into every note, striving for perfection and ensuring that Harmonica would captivate their audience with a symphony of emotions. She guided her team through rigorous rehearsals, tirelessly fine-tuning each arrangement as she meticulously crafted the compositions.

She was very particular about her creative space and her studio was carefully designed to provide the needed ambience. The reception area was elegantly set with two light yellow chairs with gold rails, hard wooden ecru floors, and a plush timberwolf rug in the centre that matched the linen walls. Nestled beside the chairs stood a pair of bamboo plants with their lush green leaves reaching towards the ceiling, contained within a rustic orange clay pot. A small coffee maker hummed softly nearby, emanating the rich aroma of freshly brewed beans. The centrepiece of the reception was a sleek glass table, adorned with a collection of neatly arranged mugs and biscuits. An ultra pink neon K sign which hung on the wall cast a glow, adding a whimsy touch to the background. Inside the studio was backlit with an ethereal blend of indigo, aqua and light fuchsia lighting, with a light yellow couch placed against the wall, two office chairs in front of the mixer, a glass wall that separated the sound booth and plaques that had achieved the esteemed certification of the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) hanging on one side the wall.

Coop took another drag from her joint, the wisp of smoke swirling lazily in the air. The familiar scent of Layla's Coco Mademoiselle fragrance mingled with the smell of cannabis in the atmosphere. Coop was dressed in a sleek black bomber jacket, matching pants, and a black tee. Her hair was meticulously styled, with short locks brown locks in the middle which complemented her dark skin and neatly carved sides and back. She bobbed her head to the rhythm that filled the room, while Layla manned the mixer, her attention fixed on the music.

Layla interrupted the melody, reaching over to turn off the sound. She waved her hands, attempting to disperse the smoke that Coop's indulgence had created. "Remind me to get a filter whenever you decide to bring your weed into the studio," she remarked with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Coop leaned back, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Relax, it's good for the nerves," she replied, placing the rolled-up sativa delicately on the ashtray. "I guess we're done here."

"Yeah, we're good to go," Layla confirmed, typing on her laptop before ejecting the flash drive. She handed it over to Coop. "The only thing Patience needs to do is get on that stage tomorrow and put on a show."

Coop placed the flash drive on the table.

"When is she arriving from LA?" Layla asked

"Tomorrow morning," Coop answered, her voice carrying a hint of longing. "I wish I could've gone with her this time, but maybe next time."