That vocal track on SoundCloud.
Yes?
The compression on the vocal is sloppy. Attack is too fast. It's crushing the transients on the consonants.
A beat.
I'll tell Alfie.
Don't tell him. Send me the stem.
The bubbles appeared and disappeared for a long moment. I could imagine her smile. That sharp, terrifying, victorious smile.
Sent.
A file popped up in the chat. ForTheEngineer_VOCAL_RAW.wav
I walked over to my desk. The rain was still hammering the windows, but the static in my head had cleared, replaced by the familiar, comforting itch of a problem that needed fixing.
I opened Pro Tools. I dragged the file in.
The waveform appeared. jagged, raw, blue.
I put my headphones back on. I isolated the frequency range where the harshness lived, that burnt-sugar rasp of his voice that was too sharp, too eager.
"I'm not coming back for you," I whispered to the waveform, to the digital ghost of the Alpha who had sung a surrender song to the void. "I'm coming back because the attack time on this compressor is criminal."
I adjusted the ratio. I smoothed the curve. I painted the sound with violet and deep, warm amber until it stopped hurting and started singing.
My phone buzzed with a message from Callie.
Did you text them?
I’m mixing.
Is that code for sex?
It's code for I'm fixing their garbage audio.
So... sex.
I ignored her. I focused on the mix.
Four in. Six out.
I wasn't safe yet. But looking at the session file, looking at the workspace render Euan had built, knowing Cal had metaphorically put the kettle on...
I put the Exit Card on the desk next to my keyboard. It was still there. Valid. Potent.
I could leave anytime.
But for tonight, I had a mix to finish.
And maybe, just maybe, I had a bus to catch.
I saved the file.
ForTheEngineer_Z_Mix_v1.wav
