Cut!

Take 7 - Half A Heart - Part 1

A/N: Please comment as you read. It'll mean the world to me. 

We met up with Zayn shortly after that and, together, we walked to the recording studio. It was our first time singing together, and I had to admit: I was beyond nervous.

Not only was I cheating my way into their life, but as they started talking music, I also realized that these were professionals. Sure, I could sing seemingly well—Ludmilla and I took classes when we were younger—but I hadn’t actually recorded anything yet. I knew that I was going to mess up things.

I kept quiet, though. And unless spoken to directly, I kept in the background as the producer ran through everything. First, they took care of the vocals, and we all stepped into the booth with gigantic earmuffs on. It was a bit crowded, and my elbows kept nudging Harry’s ribs, but he didn’t complain once. All he did was smile now and then whenever he wasn’t focusing on singing.

As the time carried on, I kept messing up in every possible way. Either I forgot the lyrics or I sang in the wrong tone. When I finally thought I had the right note, I messed that one up too.

“Take it from the top, guys,” the producer called over the intercom.

I took a deep breath, listening to the intro.

“One dream, one chance,” Zayn sang.

“Together forever,” Harry continued.

“Since the first glance,” I tried, but, unfortunately, my voice broke.

Harry called for a timeout, and gave me a bottle of water. “You sure you can do this?”

I nodded. Of course, I could do this, and frankly, I was a tad offended that he would believe otherwise. And if she’d been here, I know Ludmilla would have been offended as well. Probably more than me, though. I smiled to myself as I imagined Ludmilla scolding Harry for even suggesting that she wasn’t up for the task.

“I’m just rusty,” I said, hoping he’d buy it.

Zayn was speaking with the producer behind Harry, and I arched my neck to see if something was wrong. Was he complaining about me?

Please, god. I prayed. Don’t let me mess this up.

I took a swig of the water, hoping to seem calm and collected.

“Guys,” Zayn said. “I just suggested something to the director, and I want to try it out.” He pointed to me. “Your voice cracks because of the high-note, so I thought that maybe if we lower your part to a treble, you’d have an easier time singing?”

I tried hard not to gawk. That was incredibly sweet of him. Smiling, I thanked him.

“It’s not a problem,” he said. “I just think this will give us better results.” He gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning to his own microphone.

And it worked. I came through my parts easier than ever before.

The hour passed too fast for me to take notice, and it wasn’t until the producer called end of the take that I realized how time had flown by.

Harry excused himself, leaving me alone with Zayn. Feeling a bit awkward, I tried to look anywhere but directly at him. He had other plans, though, because he started to talk, and I looked at him.

“That went okay for your first day,” Zayn praised me. “We have time to work on everything still, and you’ll be in perfect shape for the concert.” He smiled.

“Thank you,” I said. “Really. I was freaking out in there for a minute.”

“Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.” He winked. “You’re one of us now.”