You and Me (Plus Everyone In Between Us)

Mom Is Loud, and My Voice is Quietly Loud

The next day of the competition, I actually woke up early. I did my hair this time, into two sleek puffs above my head, and also put on a little makeup. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror of the recording studio, I didn't cringe. In fact, I thought I looked pretty good.

I was the first one at the studio today sitting patiently with Annie in a recording studio. We covered techniques and breathing exercises before we sang random sentences that got higher. Lennon sat and watched us.

The studio producers sat over a complicated-looking soundboard full of knobs, buttons, little screens, and one big keyboard. Huge speakers and soundproof wall foam spread across the studio walls and inside the recording booth. It's covered by a thick glass panel accessible from a door on the side.

It looked so fancy. I've never been in one like it before. I somehow felt inadequate being inside of her. Everywhere had a place, something they knew they were doing.

There were two cameras recording us, getting material for the show. I was kind of used to them now, but every once in a while when they popped up, I flinched.

"We're going to record a backing track for your performance," Lennon explained earlier when we first got here. "It's for your in-ears and a slight backing track to play in the background. This is not an excuse for you to lip-sync because the track will play at a low volume."

"Okay," I replied.

I didn't talk to Lennon much. She was more of a figure than someone I could get comfortable with.

And here I was doing intense vocal warmups again.

"I think you're ready to enter the studio," Annie said, clasping her hands together.

I nodded in excitement, before entering into the recording booth. I slipped over warm cushiony headphones over my ears staring at the lyrics placed on the stand in front of me.

"Sing closely into the mic," I jumped as a studio engineer's voice boomed through the headphones.

He chuckled. I gave him a thumbs-up and took a deep breath.

The song queued up, and blasted into my ears, filling the room with the serendipitous piano track. I started singing, vocals pouring like honey over the backing track. I infused my voice with all the vocal cues and techniques Annie taught me, singing openly like Lennon said, into the big microphone. The music lifted me and carried me.

I didn't realize that we were done until my ears were filled with static silence and the words dried up on my tongue. I blinked myself back to reality and faced everyone outside the studio. One of the producers gave me a thumbs-up.

I stepped out of the recording booth where Lennon met me. "Good job," she said. "I don't think we'll have to record another track again. Just make sure you keep that energy up."

"Okay," I replied.

The producers played the track back for me, and I was taken aback by how clear and crisp my voice sounded over the audio track. It sounded so professional, like something someone big would release.

"I think that's a good run," one of the studio engineers said. "We'll have to do some mastering and sound editing, but for the most part, you did an amazing job."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

I could get used to this.

When I left, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I sighed and put it close to my ear once I read it.

"Ezra!" Mom's voice exclaimed from the other side.

"Hey mom," I sighed. "How's everything?"

"The same," she replied. "Just going to work and coming home. You haven't been here, so I've had to pick up around the house more and more."

"You could just ask Emmett to help. He isn't doing much this summer. I should know, he told me himself."

"It's okay. It's better for him to rest. Why didn't you call yesterday? Or on Sunday?"

Because I accidentally got myself hungover and felt too exhausted to even hold a conversation.

"The competition's been really tiring," I lied. "I guess I haven't had time."

"You should know that family should come first. Nothing, even this opportunity, should distract you from the family."

"Sorry."

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you need to represent this family well. When it's all done, you can come home and choose a real career."

Of course. "I don't know. I think I could potentially make it."

Mom scoffed into a laugh. "We need to be realistic, Ezra. You barely made it into the competition."

"Okay, I sighed.

"Great," Mom replied. "Call the family later."

I quickly shut off the phone and frowned.