Chapter Seventy-Three

3143 Words

The poolhouse studio had become a sonic petri dish—growing riffs, cultivating harmonies, and occasionally producing the musical equivalent of an antibiotic-resistant superbug that would require immediate quarantine and disposal. Three days before their Viper Room debut, the reunited Seamus Kelly (and friends) were knee-deep in the messy alchemy of arrangement. "I still think 'Tiger Heart' needs a bridge that doesn't sound like we're auditioning for a Viking metal band," Raven argued, twirling a drumstick between her fingers with the casual dexterity of someone who could probably perform microsurgery with it if necessary. "The whole 'rarrr, I'm a majestic predator with feelings' vibe is getting lost." "That's literally the most accurate description of that song I've ever heard," Jim mutte

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