Psalm 22

Chapter 9

I SPENT MY DAY with Anaé. We felt like there was nothing to do so we just smoked outside near a stable. We talked about our lives outside the studio and our work. I shared that other than writing, I was a frustrated singer back then. I wanted to have a career in singing but what I needed before was to earn cash and earn fast enough. I was the breadwinner in the family. Instead of testing the waters, I had to find a way to make money. I have a file with all of my song lyrics. She asked me if I think now’s the right time to take it out of the chest for everyone to see. 

I replied, “I am not ready for them to rip every part and judge it. It’s a longtime dream and it will remain that way for now. I sound scared because I am. Scared and afraid to know that I’d fail. Let’s just leave it like that.”

“For now…” Anaé said.

I looked at her. “Maybe.”

After a few minutes of silence, Anaé began sharing about her childhood. She said that her friends from way back till now were still close and tight. She would go on to say that having a well-minded group of friends growing up honed the version that she is now, the Anaé that we come to know. She told me that being surrounded with the best support group was a way to have a healthy mental state. According to her, her friends would always, always encourage her to whatever goal she was set to achieve. 

“I wasn’t afraid to take on the world because I have them,” Anaé declared. Her eyes fixated at the horses by the stable. “It was easier for me, you know. I think I have it easy. Having a good, solid foundation from my friends and family really helped me grow as a person.”

There was silence after that. 

We heard footsteps from behind and when we checked who it was, the producer was standing with a neutral expression on his face. He looked like he was walking mindlessly until he reached where we were.

Henrich later joined us but he kept his hands in his pockets. We offered him the box of cigars Anaé brought with her to the ranch but he declined. 

“I quit. So no thanks,” was his reply when asked if he ever smoked. “But I drink,” he added. “There’s that.”

“Yeah, I should tone down this vice of mine,” I said and stared at the remaining cigar I was clinging to. 

“Let me help you,” Henrich spoke. “We can have a creative process instead of burning your lungs and those people around you.”

“Oh, fun,” said Anaé as she squinted her eyes toward Henrich.

He raised his arms as if in defeat. “I can’t think of anything right now, if that’s what you’re waiting for. But we will think of something, that’s for sure.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I need to get a grip first. I say one thing but I do the opposite.”

Anaé looked at me with excitement. “Why not work on your other passion?” she suggested.

I quickly shook my head in disagreement. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can…” I whispered.

“What’s going on?” asked Henrich as the strong wind carried him and he tried to fight it. The sudden rush of wind was cool on a hot day. It balances the heat and humidity we were feeling. 

If it’s socially acceptable to just strip naked and get rid of any clothes when feeling hot, then welcome me to the club, guys. I know men do this, getting half-naked, I mean. My alternative would be to just wear short shorts, sando, and nothing else.

“I told Anaé that I am not new to songwriting,” I told him because his silence bugged  me. 

“Oh, you,” said Anaé as she flipped her hair and continued, “Please. She loves writing and look where it got her. It’s her job and she gets to do it every day. She loves singing and songwriting. I wonder what happens if she takes the time and effort now and builds herself up.”

That got Henrich’s whole attention. He stood in front of us with his hands folded against his chest. “You’re telling me you’re out here writing the behind-the-scenes book even though you can join us in the studio?” He squinted his eyes at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Too many cooks.”

“Why don’t you try?” asked Anaé. I looked at her and just smiled. 

Who the eff are you? I wanted to ask. I need her to stop. I am minding my own business here. Gosh.

“Throw me some lines next time. We’ll take it from there,” he said. 

“Nooo,” I refused right away. “It’s private,” I said childishly.

“We’re having a meeting tomorrow because CJ decided to keep this as lowkey as possible from tomorrow onwards. We won’t be announcing anything. We’re just gonna work real hard and we will drop the album after announcing a six-hour window for the fans. Basically that’s the gist of the meeting.” He paced back and forth. “We could really use your help. We’re running low on songwriting right now,” he said.

“I feel pressured right now,” I answered and I don’t like this feeling especially now that he wants me to unearth the vault to my childish songwriting skills. I started writing them way, way back and I haven’t gotten to editing it because I never really touched it again after writing it down. I was young then, naïve, I never knew better. I’m afraid I’d sink where I stood upon reading them. 

“Okay, then take your time, never mind what I said,” Henrich said. We finally dropped the subject and focused on how he overcame his addiction with cigarettes. He started smoking when he was twelve and he just stopped two years ago. He’s thirty four now. 

“You’re still gonna die from that, mate,” I said. “Ever the pessimistic,” I added.

“You will, too, if you don’t stop now,” he replied.

“I picked up a cigarette and tried it because I thought it would make me look cool. I got addicted to it but I never looked cool smoking. But smoking led me to Kurt and Kurt led me here.” I pointed out where we are. 

“Still I insist that you stop smoking,” he said. “Don’t waste your time on it. Don’t waste any single cent on it ever again.”

“Sure, I’ll do that. Baby steps.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t want to promise anything to myself, yet. But I’ll come around.”