Benny Everhart was never meant to stand alone.
At thirty-five, she's a veteran of the industry with a voice that once helped define a generation. Raised on the coast of Maine alongside four childhood friends, Benny came up fast with NorthSide Bound...
Benny's Studio Session EastWest Studios West Sunset Blvd Los Angeles, California 5 Years Later...
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Benny's POV
The room smelled like old wood, warm equipment, and whatever coconut hair cream Harper had been using that week.
I'd been in the booth for almost an hour, listening to the same heavy, layered track loop through my headphones. The bass sat low in my chest and stayed there.
I adjusted the headphones over my black cap and looked through the glass at Harper before pressing the cue.
"All right, Benny," she said, her voice low and easy with that laid-back beach drawl of hers. "Take it from the top. Don't perform it for me. Sing it like nobody else is here."
Nobody else was.
Harper Lane sat behind the console in a wrinkled Pink Floyd T-shirt and a black beanie pulled low. She was slouched in her chair with one hand beneath her chin, her knuckles brushing the lip ring she played with whenever she listened closely.
Tattoos covered her arms, some finished and others still waiting for another session.
She looked relaxed, almost distracted, but Harper heard everything. Every breath, every change in my tone, every moment I held back.
I stepped closer to the microphone.
My dark varsity jacket hung loose over an old hoodie, the sleeves pulled down over my arms. Nothing had been picked out by a stylist. I'd dressed for a long night in the studio, not a camera.
My phone sat in one hand with the lyrics open, even though I already knew every word.
The opening of "Ghost" hit through my headphones. Sharp acoustic strums cut straight through a gritty, overdrive-heavy electric guitar while the drums kicked in underneath.
Indie rock laced with a heavy hip-hop pulse. Messy enough to bruise, tight enough to hold together.
I leaned into the mic, letting my face rest inches from the pop filter, and took a quiet breath.
🎶I wish all my days were a little bit longer...🎶
I kept the delivery tight, pulling back on the vibrato and keeping it dry. Didn't stretch it.
🎶Wish my eyes were a little bit stronger...🎶
My voice caught slightly on stronger, a raw, unscripted glitch, but I didn't push to fix it.
