Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
My eyes fluttered shut, feeling weighed down. My body became light, and sleep overtook me. I only stirred for a few seconds when a thud drew me out of darkness. I caught a glimpse of Ryder hovering above me before he picked me up from the couch and brought me up the stairs to my room.
There was so much to say, but all I could do was press my cheek against his strong chest and let the thud of his heartbeat lull me back to sleep.
Chapter 7
Delilah
Something about stepping in a studio made me feel like there was magic in the air. Excitement thrummed through me as I explored Ryder’s studio, peering into the vocal booth, practice and recording room, and the main area where the band sat together and brainstormed.
“It’s so cozy,” I said as I sat on one of the leather couches, lifting my gaze to admire the vintage lights.
“Glad you like it,” Ryder told me as he sat down at his desk, which had a computer and a keyboard set up on it. When the other band members poured in and sat down, he clasped his hands together. “Alright, let’s get to it. I came up with this guitar part that I wanted to show you guys.”
I sat between Wyatt and Amos, able to feel the heat radiating off their firm bodies. However, my eyes were still glued to Ryder as he grabbed his guitar and started strumming. My eyebrows gradually rose as I took in the melody.
It started off slow and gentle like the beginning of a story, building the suspense until he reached what seemed like the chorus. His strumming became quicker and stronger, notes pouring from his guitar that had my heartbeat quickening.
Even the other guys were nodding their head with impressed looks on their faces.
Ryder stopped after the chorus and raised his eyes, looking directly at me.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I… wow. I loved it,” I said with complete honesty. I could hear the emotion in his strumming like there was desperation and need. I wondered what had inspired him.
“Yeah, it was great, man,” Wyatt spoke up as he tapped his hands against his knees. “I think I have an idea for a simple drumbeat.”
I smiled a little in amusement as I glanced over at Wyatt. He was definitely a drummer. I always caught him tapping his hands on something or moving his foot like he was hitting the kick drum.
“Already?” I asked.
Wyatt nodded.
“I’m thinking we should make that chorus even more intense. I’ll kick up the heat on my end,” he said.
Amos turned his head to look at me.
“I could take one verse, and you can take the other. We’ll share the chorus,” Amos suggested.
“And we can go back and forth on the bridge,” I added. “Like we’re having a conversation. Something emotional.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Ryder spoke up. “I don’t want this song to be some mellow, generic radio hit. I want it to mean something. To all of us.”
“What means something to all of us?” Carson asked as he looked around at all of us.
Silence filled the studio as we tried to think of a unifying theme. I was stuck too because I only knew so much about them.
“Let’s come back to that later. Instrumental first. Lyrics last,” I said, not wanting us to slow our momentum.
“Ryder, go ahead and record that guitar part. I’ll play around with a bass part,” Jesse told him.
Ryder nodded and headed into the recording booth, hooking up his guitar and getting situated on a stool.
Wyatt walked over to the desk and pulled up Logic Pro on the computer.
Intrigued, I moved to stand next to him. I was always on the other side of the glass when it came to recording. By the time I got in the vocal booth, the track had already been made. This was my first time getting to see a full song be made from scratch.
“So, this is the guitar track?” I asked as I pointed to the top audio track.
“Yeah, he’s recording into the DAW. We can check and make sure we’re picking him up here,” Wyatt explained as he pointed to the level meter. Every time Ryder plucked a string, a green bar shot up the meter.
“Oh, wow. That’s cool,” I said as I watched the bar move up and down. When it shot up and turned red, I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It’s clipping. Too loud,” Wyatt replied before looking at Ryder through the glass. “Play like you would so that I can adjust the levels.”
Ryder nodded and practiced his part.
I couldn’t help but stand there and admire Wyatt as he worked diligently to get the program set up for recording. It was nice working with a band instead of just a producer who programmed every single sound. Even the guitar was programmed in my songs, and it made a fluttering sensation tickle my stomach as I watched Ryder play again.