Page 120 of Gabriel's Album

“Just like me, I guess,” I say and give him a shove.

* * *

“All right,so, let’s work out this chorus if you’re happy with that,” Sebastian says.

We’re sitting in Hayden’s music room. He recently got a new apartment and had a soundproof music room installed. I’m sitting at the keyboard, while Hayden’s at his drums because we’ve been working out the beat for the song.

Sebastian is stretched out along the length of a sofa at the side of the room. He has just been watching us for the last fifteen minutes. Harrison is out with Heather tonight while we work on the final song for the album.

“Okay, so the first line is, I hope that leaving me hurts like hell,” I tell him. “What next?”

“I hope that thinking of me hurts as well,” Hayden says with a grin.

“I like that,” Sebastian agrees and starts humming a melody before he sings the two lines. “I hope that leaving me hurts like hell. I hope that thinking of me hurts as well.”

Hayden begins playing a beat on the drums, and I find the melody Sebastian has been singing on the piano. Sebastian sits up and strides over to his guitar to add chords to it.

We play the two lines through and I sing it over four times before I sing another line. “I hope that your heart burns like mine.”

“Ooh, good one,” Sebastian says when I leave space in the music for the final line.

We keep playing, and I sing the three lines over, now. I’m trying to think of the perfect final line to really sum up how I feel about Ariana leaving. As I remember the way I felt in the wake of her departure, an intense pain strikes me, and I’m surprised by it. This kind of hurt isn’t normal anymore. For months, I lived with the constant pain, but now it only happens occasionally. It’s definitely been more frequent while writing this album, though.

“I hope that your soul is broken like mine,” I sing the next time we reach the missing fourth line.

We sing it this way a few times, but Sebastian frowns and stops playing. “It’s not quite right.”

“I know. I can’t quite place the right words.” I purse my lips and frown back at him.

Sebastian sings the three lines a few times, then asks, “Can you make it something like, ‘burns like fire’?”

“Ooh, that’s perfect.” I sing, “I hope your soul burns like fire.”

* * *

I’m seatedon a blue fabric sofa in Brendan’s office for my weekly session. Brendan is sitting with one ankle resting on his other knee, and he has a journal rested on his thigh. He’s in his late thirties. He’s wearing a suit and looking at me over the top of his glasses.

He smiles and asks, “How is the fight with your record label going?”

“Hah, they’ve finally agreed to it,” I tell him with a grin.

If I thought my biggest struggle was going to be convincing Sebastian to agree to the idea of the album, I definitely wasn’t prepared for the fight we would have with the record company. We took the four songs we’d completed to our A&R representative at Sierra, but he wasn’t sold on the concept and wanted us to do more before he would agree to it. It took us over a month of going back and forth with both him and other execs, while still working on the rest of the album, before they agreed this week to let us record it.

Brendan tilts his head to the side and asks, “How are you feeling about that?”

“I’m happy. For now. The songs are good, and as a concept, I think it’s great. Some of the later songs are”—I pause for a second and consider my words—“hard, to say the least. There are some very strong and specific memories attached to them, and it depends on the day as to how difficult I find them.”

“Have you had any more intrusive thoughts?”

I shake my head, grateful that these haven’t returned. “No. I do feel like now would be the riskiest time, too. When the songs are fresh, and I’m dipping into my pain to write them.”

“You say ‘dipping into your pain,’ what do you mean by that?” Brendan writes a few notes in the book in front of him.

“I guess that to write these and for them to be authentic, I really need to get back into the headspace I was in at the time. Luckily, I have the guys helping me, and Sebastian has been brilliant. He checks in with me frequently.”

“You’re lucky to have such a supportive friend,” Brendan tells me.

I smile at him. “I really am.”

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