“Consonants together,” I coached. “It’s notli-fe, it’sli—f. Land at the same time. Again. Again. Good. Now more air on the vowel. Yes, Finn. Less warble, Julian. Elliott, you’re allowed to exist; stop apologising. Milo—if you riff without permission, I will glue your vocal cords together with superglue.”
Milo gasped. “Artist abuse.”
“Accurate,” Zane said. “He hates us all equally.”
I didn’t hate them. I hated that we weren’t yet what I could hear. I hated my own chest for tightening every moment when wealmostreached it.
“Galileo,” I said at last, resigned to the chaos. “The goal for today is not to perfect it butsurviveit. Finnley and Sebastian take the top ping. Milo and Zane double the middle. Tenor descant underneath—Elliott on the moving line, Julian sustain. Baritones on pedal; Max, you and I treat the bottom like a heartbeat. Breath plan at bars—Oliver?”
“Seven and ten,” Oliver supplied. “Silent inhale. Drop your jaw on ‘Magnifico’ or we’ll strangle the vowel.”
I gave him a grateful half-smile. “Okay. Stand. Bodies tall, ribs soft, tongues lazy. Rhythm internal. On my cue?—”
I cut them in.
It was chaos, but purposeful chaos this time. Finnley over-brightened on the firstGalileoand corrected by the second. Milo nearly giggled and then swallowed it into a clean ping. Zane’s eyes widened, but then he rode the overtone. Elliott’s moving tenor line wobbled and then steadied as Julian leaned a whisper of harmony under him, supporting him like scaffolding. Oliver and Liam did something that felt like magic—minor, major, minor, suspension—and the room’s air changed texture. Max’s bass throbbed. I placed my own note so precisely it felt as though I was putting my whole body on a shelf and trusting it would hold.
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even good, objectively. But for two measures, maybe three, the overtones turned the rehearsal air crystalline.
Locked.
Click.
It lit my nerves as if someone had struck a tuning fork under my sternum. I had to swallow twice before I could speak.
No one spoke.
Finnley’s mouth was open, his eyes huge. Milo pressed his hands to his cheeks like a kid at a fireworks show. Zane looked genuinely moved and immediately masked it with a shrug he didn’t quite pull off. Sebastian exhaled through his nose as if he’d been proved right about something important. Elliott’s eyes glistened which he said was due to allergies. Julian’s posture softened, a quiet concession. Liam grinned so wide he looked a little ridiculous but perfect. Oliver wrote nothing.
Some moments didn’t need notes.
Max bumped my shoulder with the back of his hand. The gesture spoke loudly.
Hear that? You did that.Wedid that. It’s real.
I nodded once, then retreated quickly into brusqueness because if I softened at all I might embarrass myself byfeeling.
“Okay,” I said, my voice only a little hoarse. “That’s what we’re chasing. Take two.”
The air filled with groans, theatrical and sincere.
“We just had a religious experience,” Milo complained. “You can’t make us do it again.”
“I can and I will,” I told him. “Because right now it’s an accident. I want it to be on purpose.”
“Spoken like someone who irons his socks,” Zane said.
“I don’t—” I began, and then realised that yes, Ihadironed socks once, for an outfit, but that was no one’s business but mine. “From bar twenty-two.”
We worked. We faltered. We fought. Sebastian clucked his tongue. Milo pouted. Julian weaponised cadence. Oliver solved a tuning problem by rewriting breath spots on the fly. Liam invented a joke about baritones being the middle child of musicthat shouldn’t have been funny and was. Finnley learned to tune his brightness to the room instead of his feelings.
Against all my expectations, Zane became brutally useful when he started calling everyone out evenly, including me.
“You’re dragging, Captain Clipboard, and I’m only saying it because you look as if you’ll combust if I don’t.”
Max translated for Zane. “He means it with love.”
I found myself smiling once but pretended it was wind. Then I tried to look pissed at what had apparently become my nickname, and failed miserably.