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A/N

Y'all. I noticed the Scottish accent threw some of you off... I CAN EXPLAIN. Want to know what Hawk's accent sounds like in my head? Look up Callum Kerr on TikTok (ignore the fact that he's also a singer, that's not relevant to Hawk). As for Arden and Robin... I mean, Hugh Jackman's accent isn't THAT bad, right? It's not like he walks around shouting naurrrr cleouuurrrr!! That being said, enjoy this next chapter teeheeeee

———

Within a couple of weeks, the band had managed to fix all ten songs. They had the melodies and they had the lyrics. Now came the hard part. Recording.

They had to play every bit with every instrument, then sing the lead parts and add in harmonies. And once that was done, they had to get started on music videos. It took them around a week to get through each song, working tirelessly to get the album done as fast as possible.

That day, they were finally getting started on Track four (still untitled), which everyone was excited about recording.

When Arden and Robin first read the lyrics, they loved them. They did suggest a couple of mild changes, but it remained pretty much as Hawk and Addie had written it.

"All right, Addie," Arden was saying in the recording studio, looking at her through the glass that separated them. "Let's hear what you've got for this piece."

As planned, she started singing the first part in a very soft head voice. She recorded the leading part of the first verse, then waited for feedback from the three guys listening to her.

"Yeah, I think you need to go even softer on the chorus. We'll slowly build up the crescendo," Arden suggested. "Try it even softer."

She sang it again. And again. And again. "Guys, if I go any softer it'll be a fucking ASMR," she told them, bracing her hands on her hips.

"Don't just go softer, go breathier," Hawk told her, talking into the microphone in front of Arden. "Give us the same soft energy but with more air when you're saying the words."

"Kinda like I'm drowning?"

"What? No. Kinda like you're fucking breathy," he repeated, frowning in annoyance. "The fuck does she mean, Kinda like I'm drowning. I said breathy, not breathless."

"Okay, okay, calm down," Arden said to his friend. "She can hear you."

"Yes, she can," Addie stated, crossing her arms.

"Good. Now give me breathy," Hawk insisted.

She messed up the first try, doing the same thing she was doing before, but after a few tries she got the hang of it. Breathy it was, then. And unfortunately, she had to admit that it did sound a lot better.

Hawkins was an arrogant asshole that had many, many awful personality traits, but there was no denying that he knew how to be a musician. His musical talent was remarkable and the way he came up with harmonies and melodies on the spot was truly outstanding. Addie hated it.

She wasn't envious. That wasn't it. She hated that she wasn't the only one in the room to have that talent. Before coming to L.A., she'd always been the person people would sit gaping at after she showed them just how well she understood music.

Yet here, she was nothing unusual. They'd been dealing with that kind of talent for years, but from someone else's voice— or, in Hawk's case, hands.

"Was that better?" she asked them. When they gave her a thumbs-up, she took off her headphones. "Lunch break?"

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