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[2021-05-20 | Hahnwald Estate, Cologne | 12:35 CET]
"Alright, that’s it, kid, you’re supposed to be resting today," Simba said, pulling Rakim off the rope machine, which he had been beating on the ground for the past 15 minutes. "Where do you even get all that stamina from?"
"I have a lot of pent-up energy," Rakim retorted, beating the ropes on the ground twice before letting go. "Being a good Christian and waiting till marriage isn’t all that it’s cooked up to be."
"Hahaha, well, you’re around that age," Simba muttered, rubbing his goatee, his loud laugh causing his masculine chest to vibrate. "What are you even waiting for? If I were you and grew up with the person I love, I would have popped the question a long ti ago."
"For goodness sake, you have lived together for almost two years," he added, handing Rakim a bottle of lemon water.
Rakim glanced up at him after taking a big sip. "You were not much of a ladies’ man, were you, huh?" he said with a curious head tilt, causing the man’s face to twitch. "Oh, are you blushing?"
"Black n don’t blush," he quickly retorted, looking away as he brushed one of his long dreadlocks away.
"Cap , and you both know that’s not true," he retorted, clearly enjoying the man’s embarrassnt. "No, but for real, there was never the right ti. A two-year age gap may not seem like much, but in those late-adolescent years, it can be tricky."
"Plus its not like we dated in primary, we have only been going out for two years and had to take a break halfway through." He retorted, bending forward to grasp his toes fully, stretching out his limbs, which had begun to cool. "But don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on dragging my feet. Mum actually brought the ring a couple of days ago."
Simba nearly dropped the water bottle he was holding. "Wait—what? You already have the ring?"
"Yup," Rakim said smugly, smiling up at him, straightening up and rolling his shoulders. "She offered her own, but I thought my sister should get it when she gets married. So I commissioned one from a woman nad Anna six months after they found the raw pink diamond. I’ve never spent so much money on one thing ever, and even now I can feel my money guys cursing ."
"I don’t even want to know how much, let feel rich in my one lane for a while longer." He comnted as if his reality was about to be shattered. "And here I thought you were one of the most level-headed young multimillionaires I know. Guess to show you just how strong that African blood is when it cos to bling."
"Ahhah, miss with all that." He retorted with a slight grimace. "I ironically even after doing all that, it hasn’t lessened any of my nerves."
"Well, you will just have to man up then."
~~~
[2021-05-20 | Studio Diego, Cologne | 17:35 CET]
On the eastern side of the city of Cologne, golden rays from the setting sun reflected off the aged buildings. In one of the many comrcial buildings rented to businesses, Studio Diego occupied the entire fourth floor. In one of the many recording rooms, a German woman in her thirties was seated at the recording console.
The room was dim, and the LED lava lamps in the corners barely illuminated her feet. She was a slender woman with short black hair styled in a curly wolf-bob cut framing her small face. A large pink hoodie enveloped her as she slowly adjusted the console dial in reaction to the voice of the singer in the booth.
"Cindy, should we do the chorus again?" May asked from behind the glass that isolated the booth, taking a seat on the wooden stool behind her. "I feel like I can do more?"
Cindy Müller leaned back in her chair, her fingers still resting on the console dials as she listened to the playback through her headphones. The track played May’s vocals layered over a rythmic pop production swelling underneath her voice.
{I don’t need your midnight rcyDon’t call when your world ain’t working...You lost in your paradiseNow I’m free in the neon night}
Her voice sounded through the resonating softly in the room conveying a fragile vulnability. May nervouly listend to her voice wich resounded through the speakers eagerly waiting for Cindys oppinion.
"Your pitch is perfect," Cindy said in slightly accented English, her fingers hovering over the console. "Your timing is spot-on but your rushing the pre-chorus."
May frowned, adjusting the headphones around her ears as cindy replayed the section. "Yeah I hear it now, lets try that again."
Cindy input a few commands on her console before rasing a thumbs up. "Whenever your ready."
May was quiet for a mont, her fingers picking at a loose thread on her ripped jeans. She was dressed casually today black cropped tank top, high-waisted jeans, her peach-blonde hair pulled back in a ssy bun. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath before nodding her eyes opening up with clarity.
The track started from the top, the instruntal building gradually, synth pads, a rolling bass line, snare hits cutting through the mix. May closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, feeling for the exact mont to co in.
{You pull close just to push away, say my na but you hesitate}
Her voice ca in smoother this ti, less rushed, each word given space to breathe. Cindy leaned forward, watching the levels, making micro-adjustnts on the fly.
{I was yours in a different life, now I’m dancing with city lights...}
When the final note faded, May opened her eyes, slightly breathless. Through the glass, Cindy was nodding slowly, a small smile on her face.
"That’s the one," Cindy said through the talkback mic. "That’s the take."
When the final note faded, May opened her eyes, slightly breathless. Through the glass, Cindy was nodding slowly, a small smile on her face.
"That’s the one," Cindy said through the talkback mic. "That’s the take."
May pulled off the headphones, running a hand through her hair. "Can I hear it back?"
Cindy nodded, cueing up the playback as May stepped out of the booth, joining her at the console. The small recording room felt even more intimate now, just the two of them bathed in the glow of the monitors and LED lamps. The track played through the studio monitors, fuller and richer than it had sounded in the headphones.
May stood with her arms crossed, critically listening to her own voice, picking apart every phrase, every breath, every inflection. "Stop that," Cindy said without looking up, making notes on her tablet.
"Stop what?"
"Overthinking," Cindy said, finally glancing at her. "I can see it on your face. You’re already second-guessing yourself."
May laughed despite herself. "How do you know?"
"Because every artist does it," Cindy said simply. "They sing their heart out, nail the take, then imdiately start finding problems that don’t exist."
"There’s always room for improvent—"
"There is," Cindy agreed. "But there’s also such a thing as good enough. And this?" She gestured to the monitors. "This is better than good enough. This is done."
May sat down in the second chair, finally allowing herself to relax. "You really think it’s there?"
"I think your voice has grown a lot in the past year," Cindy said honestly. "Now leave the rest to once Ive mixed it you will see how good it is."
"huff Ok," May huffed dropping limp on the lether sofa exhaustion written on her face. "I’ll leave the rest to you then."
"You want water?" Cindy asked without looking up from the console, her fingers dancing across the controls with practiced precision.
"Please," May mumbled sprwaling from on the leather sofa, her arm draped over her eyes, chest still rising and falling from the effort of the last take.
Cindy grabbed a bottle from the mini-fridge tucked under the desk and tossed it onto the sofa. May caught it blindly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink.
"How many more tracks do we have left?" May asked, finally sitting up.
"For the EP?" Cindy glanced at her notes. "We’ve finished three. ’Neon Night’ is done now. That leaves two more—’Glass Heart’ and ’OFF-White.’ Both need full vocals still."
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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