Ephemeral

C H A P T E R 4

My mouth had probably been open for the past ten minutes. Cudi had added his legendary hums to the beginning of Stop Trying To Be God, which took the track to a new height.

He also brought Philip Bailey and James Blake with him, Philip helping him with the newly written chorus.

James has asked me if I had an outro in mind. I didn't, but I don't miss opportunities like these; so I wrote it on the spot.

When I thought we were done, Mike Dean, the producer of the track, joined us in the studio, psyched at what we he done with the song. He then called Stevie fucking Wonder, who redid his harmonica with a simple, "That it?"

Mike decided to add that to the end of the track, everyone psyched at the finished sound we got. After a few blunts, it was just me, Dean, and my crew in the studio, Cudi dipping to another recording session.

"Hey kid," the producer called, a joint between his lips, "You do something with those other beats?"

"Uh, yeah. That 'Wonder' track. I have a song called Wonderful I wanna do with Abel." I droned, strumming Violet's guitar lazily.

I should've brought mine.

"Need me to call him up here? I think he's in the building somewhere."

"Yeah, that'd be cool."

He gave me a half nod, walking out the room for more privacy.

"I think he likes you." Frank quipped, not looking up from his phone.

Always working.

"What makes you say that?" I asked, letting my head lazily move in his direction.

Everyone was scattered in the studio. Violet sat on the floor in the corner, fumbling with the guitars on the nearby stand. Olivia was next to me behind the soundboard, nervous to be around Mike. She said he looked like a pedophile.

Frank was on the couch with a sleeping Cameron. She'd sort of passed out when Cudi started humming, but we didn't want her to look like a super fan; so we told him she was super tired.

"He was awestruck when you showed Cudi and Philip the way you wanted the chorus to sound."

"I just knew what I wanted for the track."

"Then, he looked like he hit the jackpot when you wrote that outro for Blake."

"Ok? I'm a writer. I can write."

"Yes, but many artists aren't able to come up with something so great the first time around." I jumped from Mike's voice, spinning around in my chair to see him. "Not only that, you are super versatile. I heard you sing on Rihanna's track. It's insane to hear you go from that, to this type of rap."

"Mom's a singer, but my family loves rap music. I always thought, if I could make music, I want to make people move when they hear my shit. I don't care if it's raging, dancing, or trembling," I shrugged my shoulders, "I want them moving."

"You think you can make rage music? All I've heard is this introspective shit. By the way, Abel will be here in an hour." I frowned.

What the fuck was he trying to say?

"Got something you think could make people rage?" I challenged.

"Oh, you're not challenging me kid." He chuckled, opening his computer and hitting his space bar. There were twelve seconds of silence before some bass started. When the beat finally came in, a voice yelling "fuck the club up" eight times, I grinned wildly. Hands clamped on to my shoulder, a face coming directly next to mine.