Chapter Twenty Seven:The Alley
The studio lights were still bright when Malik stepped outside. But the energy inside the building had already faded. The producer’s words kept echoing in his head. “It’s not bad,” the man had said while leaning back in his chair. “But the pattern of your singing… it’s off. The flow isn’t right.” Malik had stood there quietly while the other people in the studio nodded. One of them added, “You’ve got stories, yeah… but the delivery needs work.” Another shrugged. “Maybe writing is your thing, not performing.” Malik had simply nodded. He didn’t argue. Didn’t defend himself. He grabbed his notebook, thanked them for the opportunity, and walked out. Now he sat in his car in the parking lot, staring through the windshield at the Chicago night. For a moment he let the silence sit w
- Writer
