I guess if he was going to be late, the least he could do was look good doing it. But that was the last thing on his mind as he smirked before answering, “With you all over my shoulder like this. Don’t you have some lyrics you need to be writing or somethin’?”
“I can’t write lyrics until I have at least the foundation of a beat,” I told him, catching the faint sounds of the one he was creating and already thinking about what one-liners I had stashed in the notes app on my phone that I could pull together to make a quick couple of verses.
It was a habit of mine whenever I felt inspired to jot down lyrics on the go, though none of them were actually connected since there was no way I was going to waste my heartfelt words on mainstream pop beats. But as I watched Gabriel turn around and put enough touches on the beat to give me something to work with, I decided there was no time like the present to finally put them to use.
“Well that was quick,” I told him, pulling up a chair next to his as he grabbed a pair of headphones for me to use while he continued constructing the beat on the other side of the recording station.
And as I made myself comfortable in the chair, kicking off my tennis shoes so that I could tuck my feet under me, I listened to him explain, “I need you workin’, superstar. We ain’t got all night, right?”
“Yeah, I guess not,” I answered with a shrug, taking the headphones he had extended my way and sliding them halfway over my ears before pulling my phone from my purse to get to work like he had suggested.
As I scrolled through my notes, glancing at the collection that was bigger than I remembered and trying to decide what direction I wanted to take with this particular beat, I could feel Gabriel watching me the same way I had been watching him. Though instead of being over my shoulder, he was staring straight at me, not even bothering to hide his creepiness the way I had. But his heavy gaze didn’t exactly feel creepy. In fact, it made me squirm a little in my seat until I finally snapped, “What?”
“You look nice today,” he answered with a sexy little grin before turning his attention back to the control surface, quick enough to miss me rolling my eyes in response.
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” I asked, glancing down at the solid black t-shirt dress I had on, made even more basic by the fact that I had left all my jewelry at home.
“Nah. You look… comfortable. And comfortable is a good look on you, Zalayah.”
I cringed when he said my name, thinking of all the times it had been shouted at me on my way in and out of the various buildings I had visited throughout the day by the fans and paparazzi trying to get my attention. Of course I loved my name. But having a real name that doubled as a stage name came with a different level of irritation whenever it was used in private spaces. So instead of letting it be a lingering issue, I asked Gabriel, “Can you… not call me that? Just call me Z or somethin’.”
He chuckled, the short glimpse of his perfect smile giving me butterflies as he replied, “Z reminds me of this big ass nigga who dunked on me back in high school. Gotta pick somethin’ else, little mama.”
“How about Rose?”
“Rose? Where’d that come from?” he asked, continuing to bob his head to the beat as he tested out a few different keyboard arrangements to add.
I wasn’t sure why I felt so comfortable sharing personal information with someone who was still mostly a stranger. But since it was probably available on my Wikipedia page, I quickly explained, “It’s my middle name. Zalayah Rose.”
He nodded as he repeated, “Rose. Rose. I can rock with that, Rose.” And the little smile he gave in addition had me fighting my own grin as I turned my attention back to my phone, trying to hide the fact that I was blushing at his intonation as if I hadn’t been mad at him just a few moments before.
Not a good sign.
Still, I tried not to be bothered by it too much, instead starting a new note with the one lyric I felt was worthy of creating a whole song around.
“Your love… baby, your love is the best. I don’t know if I can handle… but I still want you to put me to the test…”
I was face deep in my phone, typing away as the lyrics flowed effortlessly from my brain through my fingertips against the keyboard and guitar combination. But my typing came to a halt once I caught Gabriel pulling his phone from his pocket out of my peripheral, rolling his eyes before pressing the button to answer it.
The beat was still thumping in my ears, but I did my best to make my eavesdropping not look so obvious as I gently slid one of the headphones off just as he said, “Nah, I’m in the studio.” And since I couldn’t hear the responses on the other end, I had to make sense of the one-sided conversation I was given, though some parts played themselves out a lot more thoroughly than others.
“Don’t worry about all that.”
“I know my car is parked at the apartment. A car service picked me up.”
“I don’t know what time I’ll be back, Shy. I’ll hit you when I get home.”
“Aren’t you always ready to fuck?”
“Yeah, aight.”
The second he ended the call was the same second I blurted, “Was that your girlfriend?”
I shouldn’t have even been listening, shouldn’t have even cared about an answer. And according to the scowl he wore in response, it was clear I had overstepped. But to my surprise, it washed away just as quickly, his expression turning more neutral when he replied, “Used to be.”
“Used to be? Sounds like you two are still pretty acquainted.”
“What’s it to you?” he fired back, the scowl returning as he challenged me to explain. But I didn’t have an explanation, other than me being nosy for reasons I definitely wasn’t going to admit.
So I didn’t, instead offering a little shrug as I avoided his eyes when I answered, “Uh… nothing. I was just asking, commenting.”
“Well that’s not necessary, Rose,” he said with the same intonation he had used before, a half-hearted smirk growing on his face in response to my blushing as he nodded towards my phone and asked, “You about done?”
I glanced down at it, scrolling back through the lyrics for the first time since creating the rough draft. And considering they were still relatively fresh in my mind, I told him, “I can be.”
“Are you? Or are you not?” he asked, his eyebrow raised as he stared me down.
And the pressure of his gaze alone was enough for me to rush out, “Yes. I’m done. I’m ready. Let’s get this over with.”
I left the headphones on the control surface before heading towards the recording booth. But Gabriel’s hand against my forearm stopped me in my tracks, prompting me to look down at him when he insisted, “Nah, you gotta have your mind right. Can’t go into the booth all hostile and shit.”
“I’m good. Seriously,” I said with a nod, knowing if nothing else, I was going to handle my business. And he thankfully let me go, though his face didn’t look too convinced as he settled deeper into his chair while I made myself comfortable in the booth, taking a deep breath before sliding the headphones over my ears and getting in position in front of the microphone.
Even though I had already committed most of the lyrics to memory from my first skim-through, I put my phone on the music stand just in case I forgot a line or two. And once the beat began to play in my ears, the additional tweaks Gabriel had made bringing it even more to life, I quickly got lost in the vibe as I closed my eyes and belted the first verse.
Well… that was my intention until the beat stopped out of nowhere, my eyes immediately snapping back open as I gave him a look that asked what was wrong. He leaned into the control surface, pressing the button for the speaker to say, “The only reason I agreed to do this is because of FlowerChild347. So if she’s not gonna show up in the booth tonight, then I’m taking my ass back home.”
“How do you even know about that page?” I asked, wondering just how much of it he had even seen.
It was a private YouTube page that I had only been man
aging for the last few months; a test run of sorts for the artist I wanted to be as opposed to the artist I had been presented as for the greater portion of my career. And even though only a few hundred loyal fans had exclusive access to it, their preliminary excitement about my new image was what helped to boost my confidence, giving me the push I needed to move forward with pursuing this album.
Clearly someone had broken code and shared it with Gabriel, but he didn’t give me much insight on who did it when he finally answered, “I have my ways. Now give me her. Not that same ass popstar bullshit you’ve been on.”
I should’ve been offended, but I knew he was right. If I really wanted to be different, I had to give different. I had to embody everything I claimed I wanted to be while also letting go of the shit I used to be able to get away with knowing whatever producer I was working with would polish it to perfection later. It was time to really prove myself, as an artist, as a vocalist, and most importantly, as a grown ass woman.
So I signaled that I was ready to try it again with a nod just as the beat began to play through the headphones, letting the sexy vibe Gabriel had created get me in the mood as I swayed against the melody before using every bit of the vocal training I had been receiving to attack the first verse. But I quickly realized I was overdoing it when my voice cracked as I tried to hit one of the higher notes without any real warm-up; a rookie mistake even though I was far from a rookie.
This time it was me stopping the recording, holding up my hand as I told him, “I know, I know. I missed the note. Run it again, please.”
I expected the music to start back from the top, but the only thing I heard was Gabriel asking, “Yo, have you ever really been in love before? Or you just frontin’ tryna sing about the shit?”
“I’m trying alright,” I whined unintentionally, more frustrated with myself than anything for coming off like such an amateur and surely sounding exactly like the non-singing popstar he originally believed me to be.
But to my surprise, he was the one offering what seemed to be words of encouragement when he replied, “Don’t try. Do. Never thought I’d be saying this shit, but you’re better than this.”
I was grateful to hear that he actually saw something in me beyond his initial claims, but I was also growing even more concerned about proving him right. Either way, I knew I had to focus up if I expected to really get the job done. So I gave my shoulders a shake before pulling them back high and proud, then I closed my eyes as the music finally began to play again in my ears. But almost as quickly as the first time, the music came to an abrupt stop along with Gabriel muttering through the speaker, “Yeah, you definitely haven’t been fucked right...”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, yanking the headphones from my ears as I became even more frustrated.
Instead of staying on the outside of the booth, Gabriel stood up from his chair to join me on the inside and reply, “It means what I just said. You’re singing about love, and sex, and… the shit doesn’t even sound right coming from you. I think you’re bluffin’.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as I explained, “I’m not faking anything. I’m just… uncomfortable.”
His face scrunched in disbelief. “Uncomfortable? Why are you uncomfortable? You’ve done way too many albums to suddenly be uncomfortable in the studio, Zalayah.”
“But this particular space is new for me. The only remotely sexy song I have is the one from the video I did with G. Griffey. And that was like, two years ago.”
Back then, switching up my sound was just a lofty idea that I got the opportunity to test run, which thinking back on it was probably just a move by the record label to get me to stop asking to do it. And their strategy had worked, the song doing well, but not as well as my previous releases which meant I needed to stick to the original script. But after releasing another album under the “popstar”-guise, it didn’t take long for me to realize that it was bigger than just the numbers. It was about me; being able to really be myself, do what I love, and sing about my actual life, not the life that had been nipped and tucked to perfection for public consumption. Though according to the questionable look on Gabriel’s face, I wasn’t quite doing that either.
“Is that the vibe you’re going for though? Sexy?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he studied me while waiting for an answer.
I shrugged, gnawing at my lip as I replied, “I mean, the beat you made… it lends itself to it quite well. So yeah, that’s what I’m going for.”
He nodded as if my half-hearted explanation really made sense to him before reaching out and giving my wrist a slight tug to bring me towards him. Then he wrapped me in a quick embrace from behind, one I didn’t fight off right away because it felt so good to be in his arms. They were stronger than they looked under the weight of his hoody, the increased pressure making me gasp before I finally worked up the good sense to ask, “What are you doing?”
His voice was smoother than usual as he leaned in to whisper against my ear, “Close your eyes and sing that first verse for me again, Rose.”
I smiled at his emphasis, quickly deciding I had nothing to lose in following his request. And it certainly helped that whatever cologne he had used in an attempt to cover up the smell of his marijuana-stained clothes smelled good as hell, making me relax in his hold even more as I closed my eyes and did exactly what he had asked.
I could feel his fingertips as they left my waist and slowly glided up my stomach with every additional word I crooned, my core squeezing tightly in response to his touch as I tried to stay focused on the lyrics. And I could feel his mouth as it hovered around my neck without actually connecting to my skin, the closeness making my heart race as I attempted to process what any of this actually meant. But I knew for sure that his actions were at least energizing my vocals until he pulled away halfway through the verse and asked, “Now did you hear how that sounded differently than the way you were singing it before?”
For whatever reason, I suddenly felt embarrassed, wrapping myself in a solo embrace as I considered his question. There was certainly a lot more… passion in my vocals. And it was clear I had actually made the lyrics believable according to the look of approval on Gabriel’s face. But I couldn’t really stand to look at him now that he had already discovered just how easy it was to get me fired up.
So I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, avoiding his eyes when I answered, “Uh… yeah. I mean, I guess.”
My obvious discomfort only made him laugh. “Wow, superstar. You’re really in here blushin’ like a virgin from a little hug.”
A little hug.
That’s all it was. At least, that’s all it was supposed to be. But leave it to me to get so wrapped up in the feel of his body against mine, to get so wrapped up in his gentle touch, to get so wrapped up in the… “I’m not a virgin!”
“You’re also not very experienced. But that’s alright. We’ll make it work. Even if it means I gotta keep giving you a proper warm-up,” he replied with a wink before turning to leave the recording booth.
My insides turned to butterflies as I headed back to the music stand, sliding the headphones over my ears so that I could tell him, “No way. I mean…. maybe. But only for the sake of the song. Not anything else.”
He clicked the button for the speaker, his little smirk still intact when he said, “I hear you, Rose. I’m gonna run it back, and I want you to sing it like you just did, aight?”
Instead of answering with words I really didn’t have, I only nodded as I closed my eyes and waited for the melody Gabriel had created from scratch to play once again. And this time, instead of trying to develop a new fantasy in my head for everything I was singing about, one developed on its own, giving me chills as I watched the shirtless Gabe I remembered from his apartment do things to me far beyond the simple touching he had done to get me to sing with the fervor I was singing with now.
I almost couldn’t believe how vivid my imagination was, bu
t I was also grateful for its existence as I made my way through the first verse error-free, putting forth all the extra… energy Gabriel had created inside of me as I continued singing through the hook. But before I could make it to the chorus, the music came to a stop, replaced with Gabriel saying, “You killed that, Rose. That was perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
“Thanks to you…” I thought to myself as I offered him a simple smile of appreciation that he matched before he said, “We’ll go back and add some ad-libs in later, but let’s move on to the chorus. Cool?”
I nodded, adjusting the headphones on my ears as I prepared myself for what was next to come while also keeping my eyes trained on him. And he caught my gaze, giving another little wink that made me blush before his attention went to his phone. I watched intently as his eyes widened at whatever had come up on the screen before his face turned into more of an impressed grin as he tilted the phone a few different ways. Then he licked his lips, typing out a reply that was apparently important enough to keep me waiting. And even if it wasn’t, that was how I was going to interpret it, giving me good reason to stay in my lane.
Allowing him to give me the sensual energy I needed to sing my heart out was one thing. But allowing him to take away energy that could be used for singing by wasting it on interest in him wasn’t even an option.
I had to stay focused, even if that meant nipping my little crush right in the bud.
Gabriel
My mind was all over the place.
While I should’ve been focused on Shy as she rode my dick like her life depended on it, my thoughts were torn between her and Zalayah as I played our time spent together in the studio over and over again in my head. It hadn’t taken long at all for her to grow on me, both as an artist and as a human being. Because even though there was a crowd of paparazzi waiting to catch a single glimpse of her car leaving the studio in the middle of the night and even though she had one of the most recognizable names in the game, she was as down to earth as they came.
Heated Harmonies Page 4
