Unknown: This is Will
Unknown: I don't remember how I got your number.
Me: I gave it to you before the show.
Wilbur: Oh okay.
Wilbur: Do not let this inflate your ego, but I think you are talented, and I want to be the producer on some of your songs. And of course it'll help our little PR relationship to have me in your credits.
Me: Not sure if I trust you w my music. I can try producing on my own.
Wilbur: I've produced every single one of my songs and look who sold out Radio City and look who was the last option to open up.
Me: That's so fucking rude ???
Wilbur: You're okay I promise. Come over and we'll start.
Me: What if I'm busy?
Wilbur: Yeah I'm sure you are.
Me: .....
Me: Gimme a minute.
As annoying as he can be, I can't push aside these opportunities I've been given. They'll all be worth it, hopefully. Sofia left this morning and Blair has classes all day, so I'm bored as hell anyway. I slip on my shoes and grab my key, knocking at Wilbur's door, which is immediately opened.
"Come in," He tells me, and I could faint at how good he looks right now. He always looks handsome, but this is a bit different. His hair is a mess, his glasses are crooked, his sweatshirt is a bit baggy on him. It really is a shame that he's awful.
I've never been inside his apartment but it's a lot cleaner than I expected. He has little decoration but nice furniture, and he leads me to what he calls his studio. The room is small and filled with different equipment and instruments, a chair at a desk, and a couch in front of a microphone. I take a seat on the couch while he sits at the desk.
"I want to do Long Sleeves first." Will says, plugging in some random cords. "Warm up your voice while I set my computer up. There's water in the kitchen if you need it."
I scroll through my phone as I do my normal five minute vocal exercise, thankful that Wilbur doesn't find it weird like some people do. Once I'm done, he gives me a pair of headphones, and we get to work. We start with quiet vocals to just get a feel of what it's going to sound like, then slowly add in the instruments. I want to song to be quiet, so I refuse the drums that he tries to add. After a couple of hours, I get to record the real vocals, which takes forever. We argue about how I should do it and how to layer it, and I retake almost every single line a million times to get it perfect.
"Alright," Wilbur says, restarting the song. "Let's hear if it's right this time."
The song, my song, plays. It's insane to hear my voice sound so... produced. The song is already pretty just on my guitar, but now it sounds even better. At the end, the music fades away, leaving just my voice to say the last line, and the song ends.
Wilbur looks over at me with a small smile— the first one I've seen in the past hours I've spent with him. "Shit sounds good."
I nod, unable to contain my grin due to how surreal this is. "I agree."
"I can finish mastering it tomorrow and then I can send it to you to post on streaming. Are you gonna make a good cover for it?"
I take off my headphones, my ears relieved to feel air. "I've had an idea since I wrote the song. Just a simple portrait of me with long sleeves and my hands on my face. Nothing special but still cute, I guess."
