“What do you think about this?” Weston asked.
His fingers moved effortlessly across the keys. He pulled sound from the instrument in a way that I’d never encountered. Cosmere’s keyboardist, Michael, was good at keys, but Weston had a completely different ear. He wasn’t playing for mainstream music. He was just a professional who had done a lot of work. Thus, the sound was so much more dynamic.
“Fuck, man. That’s it.”
“Are you sure?” Weston looked back at me. “I could do something like this.”
Then, he tried a slightly modified rhythm that I also liked, but it wasn’t quite right for this song.
“No, the first one. But hang on to the second. I have an idea for that one.”
“Okay. I’ll record it, and we can lay it over what we have so far.”
I nodded at Weston as he set up the recording for the keyboard section. It felt fucking good to be back in the studio. Especially this studio. Even though it made no sense. I’d always wanted that LA studio, where everything was moving fast and my career was on the line. I’d wanted that life.
Now that I had it, being in this small space—at LBK Studios, in downtown Lubbock, where the only thing that mattered was the music—felt revelatory. How had I ever worked out my songs in LA? It was exhausting and hardly the best place to get out of a creative rut.
It’d made sense with the first album when we walked in on a creative high, but now, we were exhausted from tour, and the record label was demanding more and more from us. We were superstars with everything we’d ever wanted, and suddenly, I wished for just a sliver of downtime. An ounce of breathing room to rediscover what I loved about all of this.
Sitting in Weston’s small studio was giving me that feeling again.
Weston finished playing and then headed back into the booth. A few minutes later, his voice came through the speakers. “Hey, dude, your phone has been ringing nonstop. Looks like it might be an emergency.”
I furrowed my brow. What kind of emergency could be happening?
I left my guitar, grabbed my phone, and saw that the missed calls were all from LA. My manager, publicist, a guy at the record label, Santi, and Viv had all called in the last half hour. What the hell was happening?
“Uh, maybe it’s because of this,” Weston said.
“What?”
He passed me his phone. “Someone sent this to me while we were recording.”
I took the phone. On the screen was Blaire’s video of us doing the “I See the Real You” challenge. Already, the views were in the millions.
It had been two days since we’d recorded the video in her house. Two days that I’d been waiting for her to post it. Two days that I’d thought maybe she’d changed her mind.
After all, I’d spent years keeping her out of my spotlight. I’d never confessed who the song was about. I’d hinted that it was about someone, but I respected her privacy. And she never said that she wanted to be known for it. Now, here we were, with this video. It was incriminating, to say the least. It looked like we were half-ready to rip each other’s clothes off. And I’d considered it. If she had looked at me like she was half-interested, I would have. But instead, I had seen fear and hurt, mixed with desire. Those were things I couldn’t…wouldn’t touch.
So, I’d assumed that she’d seen what I saw in the video and decided to just trash it. It would certainly be safer. Blaire was in the public eye, but there was a difference between a social media influencer and…well, me. That wasn’t even bragging. It was just my life.
It appeared that it’d just taken her a few days to work up the nerve.
A quick glance at the comments told me two things: everyone thought Blaire and I were dating and that this was a not-so-subtle hint at a new album.
No wonder everyone and their mother was calling me. I hadn’t prepped anyone that we were doing this. I hadn’t told a soul that it was going live. And now, everyone must be scrambling because of the attention. Because of the apparently not-so-subtle hint that I hadn’t meant to give.
Bobby Rogers flashed on my screen again.
With a sigh, I answered it. “Hey, Bobby.”
“Campbell, Campbell, Campbell. What have you gotten yourself into?”
“I did a video. It’s no big deal.”
“Well, I have been on the phone all morning since it went live. Where have you been?”
“I’m in the studio.”
“You’re in LA?”
“No,” I said warily. “I have a friend in town who works at LBK Studios. I’m just laying down some ideas for new songs.”
Bobby’s skepticism turned to enthusiasm. “You found your muse!”
“Sort of.”
“Look, this is great, Campbell. I wasn’t sure about you staying in bumfuck nowhere, but it’s clearly working. This girl is good for you. She is helping you write, getting you on social media, and—”
“Leave Blaire out of this,” I said, my voice like ice.
Bobby sighed. “She put herself into it, kid.”
“What do you want, Bobby?”
“If you’re writing new music, then absolutely nothing. I talked to Barbara.” That was my publicist who I hadn’t answered because I knew she’d be pissed that I’d done this without her. “And she was mad at first that she’d had no warning, but now, she wants to send a team down to Lubbock to help make more of these videos. It could really ramp up the new album.”
“No. No team, Bobby. I want to be alone to figure this shit out, or there will be no new album,” I told him as I paced away from Weston.
“All right, all right. I thought you might say that. So, I told her to wait on it. But,” he said as if he had plans B, C, and D waiting for my refusals, “I want to send the rest of the band there.”
“Wait, what?”
“The band! You write better music when you have everyone there. You said it yourself. If you’re writing new songs and even inadvertently promoting it, then we’ll set you up in Lubbock until it’s time to record.”
“You’re going to send the entire band to me?”
“Yep. I can even hook you up with recording space. We’d still have to lay down masters here in LA, but you could get some time in to practice.”
“I already have a place.” I glanced over at Weston, who had his headphones on to listen to what we’d recorded. “And a guy that I like. We can use LBK Studios.”
Bobby sighed, as if he was suffering. “Fine. Your call, Campbell. Just get us an album. You’ll have Viv, Santi, Yorke, and Michael there to make it all come true.”
“All right.” I couldn’t deny that having them here would certainly help the process. I just hadn’t thought they’d want to travel to Lubbock to do it. “You sure they want to?”
“They’re on board. Just say the word.”
“Fine. But, Bobby, I’m serious about leaving Blaire out of all of this.”
“I heard you the first time, Campbell.”
“Promise me.”
“You know I never make promises that I can’t keep.”
I exhaled in frustration. Oh, Bobby. “Just do your best to control it all.”
“Fine, fine. Can’t wait to hear the new songs.”
Weston pulled his headphones down after I hung up. “Everything all right?”
I stared at the exposed brick wall. I should be happy about all of this. The rest of Cosmere was coming to Lubbock to help me figure out my shit. That was a good thing. Especially because we’d have Weston Wright recording and not some soulless LA schmuck.
Yet I couldn’t stop worrying about Blaire. I thought she’d known what she was getting into by posting this, and now, I was starting to wonder if I even knew what she’d gotten herself into.
“Yeah,” I finally said. “The rest of Cosmere is coming into town. We’re going to figure out the songs for the album.”
“That’s great.”
“You’re going to record them.”
Weston blinked at me. “What?”
“Masters will be done in LA, but I want to keep working with you. I like the direction for ‘Invisible Girl.’ I told my manager we’d be working here.”
“Holy fuck,” West said. “Are you sure? There are probably better people for this job, Campbell.”
“Yes, I’m sure, but if you want to bail…”
“No,” he said at once. “Absolutely fucking not. I want to do this.”
“Great. Then, you’re hired.” I nodded at him. “Let’s take a break.”
“Sure.” Weston looked dazed for a few moments and started typing on his phone. Probably telling other people what had just landed in his lap.
I should call Santi or Viv to make sure this was all right with them. Santi would bullshit his way through it, but Viv would tell it to me straight. Instead, I pulled up another number.
Blaire had texted me her number after I gave her mine. I wanted to call her and see where her head was, but even though we currently had a video that was going viral, I couldn’t seem to push myself to hear her voice over the phone. How did a phone call feel too intimate? How?
So, I shot her a text.
Saw you posted the video. My phone has been ringing off the hook. My manager is sending the rest of the band to Lubbock to figure out the album now. So, I guess I have you to thank for that.
What? He’s sending the whole band because of one video?
Probably just an excuse. I’d guess he already wanted to, and this gave him the leverage to make it happen.
Is this a good thing? It sounds like a good thing.
Yeah. I’ll get more done with the five of us than just me.
I’m glad.
I wasn’t expecting the video to do this.
I’ve had videos get a few million views. But we’re at fifteen already, and it just released a few hours ago.
I had in fact expected it to do this. I thought it would reach way more than fifteen million views by the end of the day. The rest of this happening was what had surprised me.
Are you…cool with it?
I guess. I can’t take it back now.
No, we couldn’t. It was out there for all the world to see and judge. And somehow, all I could think was how I would get to see her again.
What are you doing this weekend?
For a very long time, nothing happened. The three dots that said she was typing kept appearing and then disappearing. As if she couldn’t quite decide if I was going to ask her out or not.
It’s Fourth of July weekend. I’m going to the festival and then fireworks. Do you want to come with all of us? Hollin will be there with Piper.
Right. The Fourth. I’d forgotten about that. Normally, holidays weren’t a fun thing for musicians. We were always booked for those dates. Unlike normal people who got to experience them, we got to entertain. Since Cosmere had just gotten off a huge tour, we’d refused any Fourth of July events. Though Bobby had been pissed. I was kind of glad now.
It didn’t mean that I could go gallivanting around a summer festival though. Not without security.
I don’t think it’s safe for me.
Oh. I didn’t think about that. If you change your mind, I bet we can get you to the fireworks incognito. I’m sure someone has a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts for you.
I laughed at the thought. Yeah, no one would expect me to be in that kind of getup. And she must have known it would make me laugh and shudder, all at the same time. The other thing was…she was giving me another way in. She was even offering it. It still wasn’t safe for me to go, but maybe she’d say yes if I asked her out this time. Or at least, not an immediate no.
Though I didn’t know what was happening with her and Nate. What could I lose from asking?
Have to pass. But have fun.
Is Nate going to be with you?
There was another long pause. She hadn’t mentioned him when we were alone at her place. She still posted videos of them together, and they commented on all of each other’s stuff. But she had been perfectly quiet about him.
No. He’s in Midland.
Another long pause.
And we decided to stop seeing each other.
My head spun at that news. Well, thank fuck. That certainly made what came next a lot easier.
I see. Well, I’m going to watch the fireworks from the top of my hotel. You can join me if you want.
That’s a good view.
But I think I’ll watch from the park.
I hadn’t expected her to say yes. But we were talking, and that was a start. She was right about one thing: she was either invisible or everything to me. And she wasn’t invisible to me any longer.