“Is this the first time you boys have ever been inside a recording studio?” the thin man asked in a half-serious, half-joking tone.
We all looked at each other.
“Yes, sir,” I eventually said, nodding my head.
“Okay, well, you ready to record a song then?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Chris excitedly yelled.
The rest of us only nodded our heads and smiled wide.
“All right, let’s do it,” he said. “Drums first.”
We each took turns recording our own tracks, until it finally came to the vocals.
I stood there playing with the big headphones that threatened to engulf both sides of my head. I couldn’t hear anything in them except for the thin man’s voice, which would muffle through every once in a while.
My eyes eventually turned down, and I caught a glimpse of metal peeking out from in between my fingers. Her guardian angel was tightly pressed against my palm.
“Okay, Will,” I heard the man’s voice again. “I’m going to start the track.”
I looked through the glass to where the thin man was sitting and nodded my head.
A few seconds later, the music trickled through the big headphones, and I slowly brought my lips to the funny-looking microphone. I felt the words then grow in my stomach and then climb into my chest. They stayed there for a moment and then finally fell from my lips one by one — just like they had a hundred times before:
“I’m famous in this small town
For a ghost I cannot shake
They all know I’m talkin’ to you
But of it — I don’t think they know what to make
But they don’t see what I see
They don’t see you dance on the river walk,
Underneath the street lamps
With those stars in your eyes
They don’t see you
Lying next to me
Tellin’ me your dreams,
Planted somewhere up in those big skies
No, they don’t see what I see
Because I see
A rainstorm in June
Just before the sun
The black of night
Just before the stars
And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn
And tonight I’ll see you again
Just like every night before
But they don’t see what I see
What I see is more
Because I see
A rainstorm in June
Just before the sun
The black of night
Just before the stars
And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn
And, girl, I see your ghost
Just before our dawn.”
My lips hovered in front of the microphone as the last words of the ballad hit the black mesh and disappeared. But the music still played inside my big headset and filled my ears. I closed my eyes and took in each note, as a deep breath invaded my lungs. The song meant something to me, and I couldn’t sing it without feeling something too. I fought back the tightness in my chest as the small room eventually grew quiet again.
“That was great, Will,” I heard a muffled voice say into my ears. “I think we’ve got your single.”
A smile scurried to my lips. Those words sounded better together than I had ever imagined they could. I squeezed my fingers tightly around the guardian angel in my hand again, and suddenly, I felt one step closer.