Page 124 of Spark

I flash Titus an encouraging look, and he nods at me in reply. Thanks to Ruby, I already knew about Titus’s breakup coming here today, and, like Ruby, I couldn’t be more supportive of his decision. Ruby and I both liked Stephanie when we met her, briefly, during the tour; but like Ruby told her brother during a recent phone call, Titus deserves a woman who appreciates him for him. A woman who’s willing to fight for him, tooth and nail, every bit as much as he’s willing to fight for her.

“Okay, that’s enough about that,” Titus murmurs. He picks up his guitar, the same as he did during our first attempt at writing this damned song, and offers up the first idea of the day: a killer guitar riff—one that makes all of us visibly perk up.

We all say basically the same thing: it’s fucking awesome, cool, and super-catchy. Something we can build on as a group. And just like that, a familiar kind of energy courses through us—one that was noticeably lacking from our prior, tepid writing session at my house.

At Kai’s request, Titus plays his riff again, and then again and again, on a running loop, so we can all start vibing with it and formulating ideas about how to build on it.

A few loops in, Kai starts playing a bassline that perfectlycomplements Titus’s riff. In fact, it makes the damned thing pop and sizzle in a whole new way.

“Oooooooh, that’s sick,” Savage says, perking up. “Give me a beat, KC. I’ve got an idea.”

I grab my laptop and find a looped beat at the right tempo—one I’ll surely replace or at least supplement with live drums, when the time comes, if this seed of an idea ever blooms into an actual Fugitive Summer song.

Not surprisingly, my contribution takes Titus’s and Kai’s playing to a whole new level. Because that’s what beats do. They make everything musical sound better. Sicker. Cooler. And after feeling the groove for a minute, Savage strums his guitar in a way that fills out the existing sounds, which then prompts Laila to excitedly slide behind her baby grand in the corner and start adding some tasty chords.

Not to be outdone, Ruby starts adding some riffs and accents on the mini-keyboard in her lap. But even better than that, she starts humming some melodic gibberish as our topline—and, suddenly, it feels like we’re barreling toward an actual song here. A great one, in fact.

We all agree we’re cooking with gas now as our jam session gains momentum and Ruby’s vocal melodies start to solidify and take hold.

“So, what’s this song about?” Savage asks, as everyone continues jamming. Ruby’s melodies are a slam dunk. But since she’s singing gibberish, rather than actual words, it’s now time for us to decide the direction we want to go with the lyrics, so we can fill in the syllables with something that makes sense. But that, in turn, hinges on the emotional vibe of this budding song.

“I’m getting anger,” Titus says, still playing his riff on a loop.

“More likeangst,” Ruby supplies.

The whole room agrees with Ruby. Yes.Angst.That’s it.

“Sexual frustration?” Savage asks, and everyone laughs, because of course that’s Savage’s take on the vibe. But also, yeah, he’s kind of right. That’s definitely in there, too.

“‘Why the fuck can’t I get what I want?’” Kai offers. “That’s the vibe I’m getting. ‘I want this so badly, and I can’t have it. Why, why,why?’”

“Love it,” Laila says. “I feel that, too.”

As everyone agrees with Laila, Ruby gasps loudly and stops playing. “Kendrick, can I speak to you for a sec? Privately, on the balcony?”

Without waiting for a reply, she slides her mini-keyboard off her lap and pops up, and off she goes, like a woman possessed.

Outside, I close the sliding door behind us. It’s early afternoon, and the sun is glimmering off the nearby ocean. A gentle breeze is rustling our hair. It’s a relaxing scene, but Ruby looks far from relaxed. In fact, she looks amped up in a way I’ve seen many, many times before. The muse is calling to her. There’s no doubt about it.

“What’s up, baby?”

“I didn’t want to say this in front everyone,” she says, practically bouncing up and down. “But when I was singing that melody, the only words I could hear in my head wereyours.”

I tilt my head, not understanding.

“From ‘Spark!’” she shouts.

“What? No, Ruby.”

“You have to admit those lyrics would fit perfectly with the vibe of this song. At least, as a starting point.”

I shift my weight. We’ve never used my words as the starting point for a whole-ass song before. We’ve used snippets of my ideas, here and there, but nothing like this. And we’ve certainly never used words I’d written privately, while in a weird trance, while secretly losing my mind with jealousy and yearning for the girl I’ve loved for twelve years, a girl whohappens to be one of my bandmates who’d have to play this song, live, for God knows how many years to come. “Wouldn’t you feel embarrassed to have my words out there in the world?”

“Embarrassed? No. I’d be proud.”

“But it’s obvious the whole thing is about you. Also, wouldn’t it be weird for Savage to singmywords aboutyou?”

Ruby looks wholly unbothered. “Savage sings all our words, all the time. And some of them were my honest, vulnerable thoughts at one point. Honestly, it’s always a source of pride for me to see him re-interpreting my most honest feelings and making them his own. He’s so good at it.” She’s got a point. Savage always sings them so convincingly, it’s like he wrote the damned words himself.

---