12-30-2024, 03:12 AM
Ezvin stayed still at first, his fingers brushing lightly over the strings of his guitar as the band began. He’d been offered a place to jump in, but he wasn’t in a rush to play. Not yet. There was more to learn in listening than in adding noise.
He leaned back slightly, letting the music wrap around him as the room came alive. His eyes moved from one member to the next, watching, absorbing. Casey’s bass was smooth and deliberate, her hands moving with a confidence that reflected her role as band leader. She anchored the sound, but there was an underlying fluidity to her playing, a willingness to bend, to flow with the others. Matt’s guitar, on the other hand, was edgier, a touch of nervous energy bleeding into his chords, but his tone was clean, his technique sharp. Barry’s synths added a layer of texture, weaving subtle patterns beneath the melody, while Cara’s drums set the pace with steady precision—forceful but never overpowering.
And then there was Cadence.
Ezvin’s gaze shifted to her as she began to sing, her voice cutting through the room with effortless clarity. She wasn’t just performing; she was embodying the song, pouring something raw and deeply personal into every note. It wasn’t hard to see why her audience connected with her. That passion, that authenticity—it was magnetic. Even here, in a rehearsal room without a roaring crowd, it filled the space.
He watched how they played off each other, the way their sound gelled, not just as musicians but as a band. There was trust there, a kind of unspoken language that let them adapt and adjust without missing a beat. Casey would glance over at Matt, a tiny nod exchanging volumes. Cara leaned slightly into her rhythm as Barry’s synths swelled, giving him just enough room. It was seamless, natural. This wasn’t just a group of skilled players—they were a unit.
Ezvin noticed Cadence signaling the engineer, making micro-adjustments to the mix, and he felt a flicker of appreciation. She wasn’t just the frontwoman; she was the architect. Her thumbs-up for more of his sound made him chuckle softly to himself. She’s listening to everything, he realized. She hears the whole picture. That was rare, even among artists of her caliber.
When the song came to an end, Ezvin let his guitar rest against his knee, clapping lightly along with the band’s shared smiles and chatter. They were riding the post-song high, the kind of energy that came from creating something bigger than themselves. And Cadence—Cadence was practically buzzing as she turned to him, her enthusiasm infectious.
Ezvin took a moment before answering her question, running his fingers along the guitar strings absentmindedly as he collected his thoughts. His tone, when he finally spoke, was thoughtful, measured, but carried just enough excitement to match hers.
He nodded toward her headset, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I noticed the way you were tweaking the mix. You’re not just the voice; you’re an architect. That’s rare, Cadence.” There was no flattery in his tone, just honesty.
He paused, glancing briefly at the band again, his smile widening just a fraction. “And, if this is what you’re calling a warm-up... I can’t wait to see what you call a showstopper.”
Finally, he sat forward, a glimmer of playful energy in his voice as he gestured toward his guitar. “Next round, I’ll jump in. But I wanted to hear you first—see the way you all work together. And honestly, I wouldn’t have missed that performance for the world.
There's no doubt you’ve got something special here," he said, his tone softening slightly. “And I’m all in, but I’m not sure what you need me for.”
He leaned back slightly, letting the music wrap around him as the room came alive. His eyes moved from one member to the next, watching, absorbing. Casey’s bass was smooth and deliberate, her hands moving with a confidence that reflected her role as band leader. She anchored the sound, but there was an underlying fluidity to her playing, a willingness to bend, to flow with the others. Matt’s guitar, on the other hand, was edgier, a touch of nervous energy bleeding into his chords, but his tone was clean, his technique sharp. Barry’s synths added a layer of texture, weaving subtle patterns beneath the melody, while Cara’s drums set the pace with steady precision—forceful but never overpowering.
And then there was Cadence.
Ezvin’s gaze shifted to her as she began to sing, her voice cutting through the room with effortless clarity. She wasn’t just performing; she was embodying the song, pouring something raw and deeply personal into every note. It wasn’t hard to see why her audience connected with her. That passion, that authenticity—it was magnetic. Even here, in a rehearsal room without a roaring crowd, it filled the space.
He watched how they played off each other, the way their sound gelled, not just as musicians but as a band. There was trust there, a kind of unspoken language that let them adapt and adjust without missing a beat. Casey would glance over at Matt, a tiny nod exchanging volumes. Cara leaned slightly into her rhythm as Barry’s synths swelled, giving him just enough room. It was seamless, natural. This wasn’t just a group of skilled players—they were a unit.
Ezvin noticed Cadence signaling the engineer, making micro-adjustments to the mix, and he felt a flicker of appreciation. She wasn’t just the frontwoman; she was the architect. Her thumbs-up for more of his sound made him chuckle softly to himself. She’s listening to everything, he realized. She hears the whole picture. That was rare, even among artists of her caliber.
When the song came to an end, Ezvin let his guitar rest against his knee, clapping lightly along with the band’s shared smiles and chatter. They were riding the post-song high, the kind of energy that came from creating something bigger than themselves. And Cadence—Cadence was practically buzzing as she turned to him, her enthusiasm infectious.
Ezvin took a moment before answering her question, running his fingers along the guitar strings absentmindedly as he collected his thoughts. His tone, when he finally spoke, was thoughtful, measured, but carried just enough excitement to match hers.
He nodded toward her headset, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I noticed the way you were tweaking the mix. You’re not just the voice; you’re an architect. That’s rare, Cadence.” There was no flattery in his tone, just honesty.
He paused, glancing briefly at the band again, his smile widening just a fraction. “And, if this is what you’re calling a warm-up... I can’t wait to see what you call a showstopper.”
Finally, he sat forward, a glimmer of playful energy in his voice as he gestured toward his guitar. “Next round, I’ll jump in. But I wanted to hear you first—see the way you all work together. And honestly, I wouldn’t have missed that performance for the world.
There's no doubt you’ve got something special here," he said, his tone softening slightly. “And I’m all in, but I’m not sure what you need me for.”