Don’t you dare steal my world.
What I want, is for him to be true
What I want, is to be rid of you.
What I want, is a man that’s only mine.
What I want, is him for the rest of time.
“What the fuck is that?” I call out as the chorus repeats to fade.
“Pia, you told me you listened to the demo.” Martin’s voice is loud and clear.
“Well, lucky for you, I didn’t, because if I had, I would have never shown up today. I am not recording that pile of pathetic piss.”
I could be mistaken, but I think I catch a squeak of a noise from Cassie’s booth. A gasp. Or maybe a giggle.
“Listen,” Martin says. I can tell he’s had to take a deep breath to lower his tone. “It's not your usual style, I get it.”
“It sounds like elevator music,” I spit back. “That you’d listen to if you were in an elevator that goes to a place where good music dies.”
“It’s not that bad,” Cassie pipes up.
“Of course you’d say that.” I step outside of the booth so she can see my disdain as well as hear it. “This is right up your alley. It’s miserable. It’s melancholic. It’s one woman moaning about another woman.”
“I don’t moan about women!”
“Sure, you do. Everyone knows your boyfriend can’t keep it in his pants!”
“Ladies!” Martin’s voice interrupts in the headphones. “Take a breath! I’m coming in.”
Five seconds later, he appears through the door, a little red in the cheeks and a lot of frown on his forehead.
“Right. Listen. The way Theo described this song was as if Dolly Parton’s ‘Jolene’ had a chance to share her side of the story. The pair of youse are fighting over this man, and you’re both telling the other why she needs to back off.”
“Pathetic,” I mumble. I don’t add how, in my opinion, “Jolene” was never really about the cheating piece of shit man but about Jolene herself. As far as I was concerned, Dolly was in love – or at the very least, in lust – with Jolene. That was what made the song so good.
“Yes, Pia, I know you’d simply knock her lights out, but that doesn’t make a good record.” Martin is pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Could we…” Cassie pipes up so suddenly and so softly, I’d almost forgotten she was there. But then, when I turn to look at her, there’s no forgetting her bright blue eyes, her heart-shaped face and all that annoyingly glorious hair. “Could we maybe change the lyrics a bit? Put our stamp on it?”
I blink at her as her question sinks in. “Yes,” I agree. “Let us change it.”
Martin’s raised eyebrows are the very definition of sceptical. “Why do you want to change the lyrics?”
Cassie flashes me the quickest look before replying. “I’m struggling to relate to the words. I write most of Evergreene’s lyrics, and frankly speaking” – her cheeks turn a rosy pink, almost the same shade as her cupid’s bow lips – “I think I could do a better job.”
Wow.Little Miss People Pleaser has found her voice. And her confidence. I cross my arms as I study her. It looks good on her.
Martin sighs heavily. “We only have this studio for two days. The music’s already been laid down. We need your vocals done and dusted before the end of the day tomorrow. That doesn’t exactly give you much time for changes.”
“Yes, it does.” I lean towards Martin. “We’re two of the best vocalists recording right now. We only need one or two takes. Three at the most. That gives us plenty of time.”
Cassie stares at me, a little stunned, and I wonder if it’s because I’ve paid her a compliment.
“What?” I snap at her. “It’s true. You’re a pro. A total fucking bore, but also a pro.”
That has her blush deepening and her lips pulling together in a tiny little scowl that is arguably prettier than one of her magazine-spread smiles – certainly moreinteresting.