The Right Song Read online

  He grins. Then he takes in the guys. “Well, who are ya’ll? Bodyguards?” He looks back at me. “Already?”

  “I’m Alex, this is Drew and Chris, and we’re not bodyguards.”

  “Yeah, we’re her backing band now,” Drew jokes.

  Luke rolls his eyes skyward. “I know guys, I was only kidding.”

  He gestures for us to sit down on the couch as he goes back to his seat at the mixer. “So I take it you’re a rock singer?”

  “She sings everything,” Alex chimes. “She’s versatile.”

  Flicking his gaze to him, Luke points at me and says, “I’m talking to Aurora now.”

  Alex presses his mouth shut and stiffens his jaw.

  I ignore his attitude and need to protect me, answering, “Well, Alex is right. I can sing any genre, but my comfort zone is rock.”

  Luke motions for the booth. “You ready to sing even better than you did that night at the Heat Room?”

  I smile halfway. “Don’t you want to discuss what I’ve written first so—”

  “Nope,” he cuts me off, spinning around to get his mixer ready. “Go sing something, the first song that comes to your heart. If you can do that, then what you’ll discover here, Aurora, is that not only will I help you record a demo, but I’m going to help you record the best one.”

  I look at Aunt Leah. She smiles excitedly and nods me towards the booth. I stand up and amble over to the door, stepping inside.

  The air is woody and refreshing. I feel as if I’m in my element in this room. It’s only me and the microphone. How ironic that I thought my only instrument would be my guitar, yet now I’m relying on my voice more than strings.

  I place the shoulder bag I brought with me on the cushioned stool and take out my songbook, flipping to the first song I’d chosen to record.

  “Whenever you’re ready, kiddo,” I hear Luke’s voice echo through the speaker.

  Inhaling and exhaling deeply, I walk up to the microphone and clear my throat. I find that place where I’m comfortable, and then I peer over at the glass and give him a nod. I’m ready.

  “This is ‘Break Free’.”

  You have a shadow of doubt

  that is covering your heart

  It’s not the world that you fear

  But the ‘you’ that’s afraid to start

  Oh believe it, you can do it…

  Honestly, please tell me,

  Why do you put on a show, when you’re no longer on stage?

  Honestly, oh tell me

  Is this the life that you want, living inside of a cage?

  It’s suffocating…time to break free

  “Beautiful,” Luke praises in the speaker. I stop, catch my breath, and look out the screen. Everyone has vibrant smiles on their faces, including Aunt Leah.

  She and Luke keep exchanging glances—sweet, flirty, knowing glances.

  Snapping out of either being immersed in my singing or his attraction to my aunt, Luke turns his focus back to me and says, “One more time with the whole song, and try to add more energy, not only emotion. Be fierce on the hook; make me want to “break” out of this cage.”

  He clenches his fist at the word break to emphasize his point on me being fierce.

  I feel this adrenaline begin to rush as we begin recording again, aware of how much they like the song. If everyone is so passionate about it then maybe the label will be just as receptive.

  We run through the song two more times, and then Luke asks me to incorporate ad-libs and repeat certain words to make it more empowering.

  After he concludes on what he considers to be the perfect vocals, Luke gives me a break from the booth and then the guys get to do their thing. Their instruments are as amazing as ever. They truly compliment my song in every aspect.

  It’s wonderful that they’re a part of this, even if Days End is over. I was worried they might not like the idea of me being a solo artist, but they seem fine with it, happy to contribute to this new path I’m on.

  By the time we finish the song it’s approaching midnight. We say goodnight to Luke and leave him behind in the studio to rework the song however he wants. I have to go back tomorrow to not only listen to the finished track, but I have to record more and give the label options.

  Aunt Leah is content with me being alone in the studio with Luke. On the drive back to Seville, she goes on and on about how musically gifted he is and how she would never have known about the technical stuff he mentioned.

  It sounds to me like she’s enamored. I haven’t seen her like this… ever. I just hope it’s reciprocated on Luke’s end.

  She drives Drew and Chris to their houses, and then when we finally arrive home, Alex walks groggily across our lawn to his next door after waving at us. I can tell there’s still some tension between us, but at least I know he’s trying to maintain our friendship.

  I can’t stop yawning. I feel as if I’m about to pass out at any second. I make my way upstairs the moment we enter the front door.

  “Goodnight,” I say in a yawn to Aunt Leah as she locks up to head down the passage to her room.

  She won’t be able to be in the studio again until next week because of her shifts at the hospital.

  “Good job today, honey. They’re going to love ‘Break Free’.”

  I stop midstride and smile back at her. “Thanks, Aunt Leah.”

  Then I swivel and continue upstairs to my room. I’m too tired to hit the shower, so I plop down on the bed in my clothes, yanking the scrunchie out of my hair.

  My lids feel heavy and in no time I’m drifting off to sleep, not without glimpsing my parents’ faces first. I smile in my heart because I know they’d be proud of me if they were still here.

  24.

  I must have sung over twenty songs since returning to the studio and none of them have the same impact on Luke the way ‘Break Free’ did. It’s now Friday and we still haven’t decided on any. I’m starting to wonder if we should just go with one song for the demo.

  Emma and Alex are with me today. They look as frustrated as I feel. When I’m finally given a break from the booth, I sink down on the loveseat next to Emma and chug down a bottle of water.

  “I don’t know what the problem is,” I tell Luke when I finish drinking. “Are they that bad?”

  He swivels away from the mixer, looking at me with a brow raised. “They don’t have that emotion; that drive to connect with listeners. You think I’m being crazy, but if you send any of those to Alan, he’ll turn you down. Trust me on this.”

  “What’s in it for you?” Alex asks in a biting tone. “Why does it matter if she has a great demo? Aren’t you all about being paid?”

  Luke cuts his eyes over to him. “Listen kid, just because I get paid for these sessions doesn’t mean I don’t care about the artist making the best tracks. Everyone wants a shot.” Luke glances back at me. “You have something a lot of the singers I’ve worked with before don’t have, and that’s raw talent. I’m only doing my best to help you get one step closer.”

  He scoffs and twirls back around to the mixer. “Why does there have to be something in it for me?”

  Silence hovers in the studio for a while.

  “I have to admit,” Emma pipes in. “I wasn’t feeling those songs, either. Keep trying, there’s still another week left.”

  “Maybe I can help,” Alex suggests, reaching for my songbook. “How about we write one together? We never tried that before.”

  I squint at him, not quite sure about that. “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, are you saying I can’t write a song?” he jokes.

  “No, I just don’t know if we can vibe off each other like that.”

  He clenches his jaw. “Then tell me how to help.”

  Gosh. Why is he doing this again? “You guys being here for me and supporting me is enough. I’ll come up with something. I know I will.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Emma smiles and pats me lightly on the arm.

  Luk
e turns to face me again, saying, “Listen, take off for today. Get a break from recording and do something normal, something you teenagers do for fun.”

  I sigh and rise up from the loveseat. “Thanks, Luke.”

  He waves me off. “No problem. Just come back here fresh and ready tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” I repeat in a low tone, remembering my lunch date with Milo.

  Luke narrows his eyes, confused. “Is there a problem with tomorrow?”

  I shake my head. “No… not at all. I’ll be here.”

  Milo will just have to understand.

  Emma had to take off to meet up with Drew, so Alex and I are left alone on a Friday evening, strolling around town. It still feels a little awkward, being alone with him, now that his feelings for me are out in the open.

  “So what do you want to do to clear your head?” he asks.

  “Not sure if I can even clear my head. I keep thinking about this demo and recording songs that won’t impress the label.”

  He touches my elbow and slows me down outside Caribou Coffee. We have iced berry white mochas and spinach feta croissants and listen to this mellow indie singer while we dine in.

  “You know, I’m still surprised that you’re singing now after so long. I can’t believe that I’m watching you, Aurora Lawrence, actually sing and record music in a studio. It’s so surreal,” he enthuses.

  I pick at my croissant. “I’ve surprised myself, too. I don’t know, something happened that night at the Heat Room. I had this feeling like I should give it a try. See how it goes. And if they hated me then oh well, at least I tried.”

  “But they loved you.” He smiles. “Everybody loves you.”

  Hearing that makes my stomach tense. I can’t deal with him saying that word around me, especially when I know it’s different for him than it is for me.

  I try to change the subject. “So are you getting excited about France? It’s not too far away now.”

  His shoulders slump at my words. “Yeah, I almost forgot about it after what’s happening with you.”

  “Oh geez, don’t go all maternal on me again.”

  A hoarse laugh escapes him. “Shut up. I’m just glad you finally found your courage.”

  We fall silent to eat our snacks. Shortly after, Alex asks, “Did Daegan help you find it?” There’s a ping of jealousy in his tone again.

  “I thought you were over that,” I remind him.

  “I am. I’m still curious about how he got you on stage, though.”

  “Alex, Daegan Stone is a friend.”

  “Friend?” he scoffs. “Since when did you two become friends?”

  “Since a few days ago,” I reply, drinking my mocha. “What does it matter? It’s no different from me being friends with you guys.”

  He sighs at my words and turns away. Shit. I hurt his feelings. But what can I do? I can’t keep myself on eggshells and filter what I say every time we are together. That isn’t a real friendship.

  We finish eating in silence and then I drive us home. When we climb out of the car and Alex starts over to his house, he pauses in his driveway and calls out to me on my porch. “Maybe I shouldn’t go with you tomorrow. It’s probably hindering your focus there, too.”

  Baffled, I spin away from the door and walk to the end of my porch, leaning against the column. “What do you mean? You think you’re a distraction to me now?”

  He shrugs.

  I release a long sigh before saying, “Alex, you’re not a distraction. You could never be.”

  “Whatever the case, it’s too hard for me. Maybe I should distance myself from you, just until you finish recording and we can hang out with everyone else, okay?”

  I nod because I don’t know what else to do or say. He walks inside his house and I enter mine.

  Aunt Leah’s at the hospital, so I’m met with dead silence once again.

  After a long shower, I try to watch a comedy on TV. Like Luke said, I want to relax my brain. They say laughter is the best remedy, but I don’t find any of these jokes funny.

  In no time I give up and turn the TV off, sprawling out on the couch afterwards.

  I start to feel bored so I pace around the house. Sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, I consider texting my friends. Only, as I scroll through their names, the one person I want to text is Daegan. Perhaps it’s because he always inspires a new song out of me.

  Me: Hey.

  Daegan: Who’s this?

  What?

  Me: Oh come on, I’ve been busy in the recording studio. Don’t be mad.

  Daegan: Seriously. Who is this?

  Me: It’s Aurora. U really deleted my number because I haven’t spoken to u since Monday? Were u that mad with me for not hanging out with u?

  My chest tightens at the thought of him doing that. I like having Daegan as a friend. I feel like we’re connected in ways beyond art.

  Daegan: Geez. Chill out. I’m only kidding.

  Daegan: And no. Not mad.

  My lips curl into a relaxed smile. Good thing he was messing with me because I seriously almost had a heart attack. Then again, why does it matter so much that we stay friends? We didn’t even used to talk until three weeks ago.

  Me: I’m glad. U scared me for a sec there.

  Daegan: I scared u? How?

  Me: NM.

  I’m not sure how he’ll react to the fact that I rely on him to influence my creativity. He might misunderstand and think that I’m using him or something.

  Daegan: How’s recording?

  Me: The first session was great! I have one track down already. But since then, it’s been painful. Remember what u said about music being memorable? Well these songs aren’t.

  Daegan: Sounds like u r forcing it again.

  Me: I’m not trying to, but I don’t have a lot of time.

  He doesn’t reply for a while and I start to wonder if I’ve turned him off with my issues. Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he has better things to do with his time than being my text buddy tonight.

  I hop up from the bottom step and walk into the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk. I sit on the stool and stare into nothingness, hoping a tune will come to me.

  A moment later my phone vibrates on top of the island. I check the screen and see it is Daegan calling.

  My stomach jumps.

  I suppress the odd feeling and answer.

  “Fingers tired?” I ask.

  “As a matter of fact, they are,” he replies with a smirk. “I’ve been sketching for most of the day because I have a project due on Monday.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to bother—”

  “Stop, you’re not. Anyways, I thought we could talk on the phone instead of texting. Unless, you’re not okay with that?” he drawls, making sure.

  “Of course I’m okay with that, silly. Thanks for calling, I’m home alone.” I instantly bite my bottom lip, realizing I just told him I’m more or less lonely.

  “Humph. What would you say if I ask to come over?”

  The question makes my heart thump. “I would say… maybe you shouldn’t because it’s kind of late and—”

  “I’m coming,” he decides for himself.

  “What?” I spring off the stool, surprised.

  “Be there in ten. We can talk for as long as you want until you no longer feel alone.”

  “I never said—”

  “I can hear it in your voice. Geez, no wonder you can’t write.”

  “Daegan…” I want to tell him he can’t come over. That my best friend, who happens to be in love with me, lives right next door and I don’t want him to feel worse than he already does.

  But I also want Daegan to come over and keep me company. I like being near him. He calms my nerves and inspires me to write, and I desperately need the motivation right now.

  In the minutes of waiting for Daegan to show up at my house, I’ve changed out of my PJs into a t-shirt and jeans, brushed my hair out so my strands don’t look disheveled, and sprayed on body mist.


  I have no idea why I primped up for him. God! What’s with me?

  Soon I hear a knock on the door and I’m perplexed as to why I didn’t hear his Chevy pull up outside.

  Opening the door, Daegan’s handsome face gazes back at me, setting my emotions all over the place. His black hair appears damp and wavy, and I like the blue t-shirt and dark ripped jeans that he’s wearing.

  “Hey there.” He gives me a half smile as he waves nonchalantly.

  “Oh, come in,” I say, stepping aside so he can enter. I can see him better under the light in the foyer. He bites on his lip piercing a little, sending a chill down my spine. The thought crosses my mind that I want to know what it feels like to brush my lips against it.

  “What’s up?” he says, snapping me out of it.

  “Nothing much. So… ahem,” I glance at the window as I ask, “Where’s your car?”

  “Didn’t feel like driving. I live close enough anyways.” Twisting, he starts to climb the stairs as if he owns the place.

  “Um,” I whisper at his back, watching him.

  Daegan reaches the top of the stairs and looks down the hallway. “Which one’s your room?”

  Something turns in my stomach. Oh. My. Gosh. There’s a guy in my house, who is not one of the guys I grew up with, asking for my room.

  He continues down the hallway and surprisingly, he finds the right door. “I bet it’s this one,” he smirks, entering.

  I run up the stairs as fast as I can and scurry into my room. Daegan is sprawled out comfortably on my bed, his head resting on my pillow with one leg crossed over the other.

  He’s flipping through my songbook.

  “Excuse me,” I say, appalled by his audacity. “First you invite yourself over and now you’re lying on my bed and going through my private words.”

  He looks at me for a fraction of a second. It’s long enough to stir up the butterflies in my tummy.