[ There's soft laughter, from the other line. Easy amusement as the hype man appropriately hypes up whatever surprise he has for her. It's easy to indulge him, build up her anticipation, then—
Oh.
Red being quiet is nothing out of the ordinary. But there's weight to the silence now, somewhere between nostalgia and shock ( and something uglier that bubbles underneath the surface ). A brief moment to wonder how he recognized her voice, only to realize that it's not too difficult, is it? It's not like she's kept any of this a secret ( now, even less so ).
The notes give away to static, eventually. A solid 3 minutes and 43 seconds spent as she listens to her own song, from a lifetime ago. Before the next track begins, Richie's phone buzzes. ]
[less the vocals and more the image laid resplendent on the cover. He'd cottoned onto her real career after some time, heard her humming, but still had been unprepared for this.]
I'd say it's priceless.
This really is beautiful Red. You sound like heaven.
[ Ah. Yeah don't worry about those. The next one starts up ( when you speak, i hear silence— ), and the music's become an excuse for her slower replies. ]
That's high praise.
... You've listened to all of it already, haven't you?
[ She's never written music for the sake of other people; for a performer, a songwriter in Cloudbank, she's never put much thought into the public opinion ( until she had to ).
Which is why she throws caution to the wind, a little. The concept of presenting her work in anything but a professional context is a new one, still. To have a friend listen to it without fully knowing who she is ( was ). A little shamelessly, a little playfully— ]
You've got a good ear. [ Or maybe it's just coincidence — it's hard to tell. Luckily, she doesn't need to worry about the pause seeming any stranger than it normally does.
She's not here to divulge her thought process, after all ( she rarely ever is ). So, a subtle change in topic, into territory she doesn't mind talking about for once. ] Maybe you'll get a live show one day.
[Outside the obvious, of course. Enemies gone, ends to war, loved ones awoken. But seeing Red perform would have to be some kind of magic. Her yen for the stage and the medley is something that reads in her every move. Her performances even through simple hums, to the dance they'd shared at the gala, to the way she lit up when they'd listened to his vinyls. Not always approving, but her ear was tuned in to the finnicky layers and tricks and vocal ticks in a way that he had, in the private time of his youth, yearned to grasp.
But Richie never realized the rock star dream. Just became something close to it, the next best thing. Rubbing elbows and pulling circus acts with vocals of a different sort. They're both under limits here. One day maybe they could pick up business as usual.]
I expect front row seats, of course. So which one was inspired by Boxer's handsome mug?
I'll do you one better. [ That's an easy enough promise to make — she figures it's the least that she could do. Backstage passes and the like. Her waiting room had always been on the emptier side, with staff running around, Sybil, and Boxer. She lives up to the reticent description well — or maybe it's better to say that she did.
A first time for everything, she supposes.
Still, it takes care not to raise her hackles — old habits die hard, and she's not a fan of answering the question so directly. ] I'd rather have my work speak for itself. [ A usual fallback, but this isn't a press interview. So, another message comes soon after the first— ]
You're serious? I'll have to swap to that one in a second, I missed that the first time around.
Was he a musician as well, or just hanging around the studio on a whim?
[Not that figures meant much for musical aptitude but he looked more like his literal namesake than he did a crooner. It would be too sweet to see the pair of them in a duet, though. Nearing on saccharine.]
You have to listen for it. [ It was a compromise. It was never supposed to be a duet, in theory — it was a lot of bargaining on Red's end before he eventually, reluctantly agreed. Multiple conversations about how he's not really fit to do something like this, not to her songs ( she told him that wasn't for him to decide ).
It still isn't a duet. ]
He'll say neither.
I stand by my decision, though. [ The last question is mysteriously unanswered. ]
I'm doing it. Maybe I'll leave him a voicemail with my compliments too.
[Is he joking???
Mebbe.]
You're being evasive again. Come on, you've been strumming that old guitar, you can't tell me there's nothing fresh coming to your mind when you're fiddling on it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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What is it?
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[And there's the familiar crackle of a needle hitting vinyl. And then...
"It's just skin and bones
Nothing inside
Sleeping alone..."]
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Oh.
Red being quiet is nothing out of the ordinary. But there's weight to the silence now, somewhere between nostalgia and shock ( and something uglier that bubbles underneath the surface ). A brief moment to wonder how he recognized her voice, only to realize that it's not too difficult, is it? It's not like she's kept any of this a secret ( now, even less so ).
The notes give away to static, eventually. A solid 3 minutes and 43 seconds spent as she listens to her own song, from a lifetime ago. Before the next track begins, Richie's phone buzzes. ]
Careful, that's worth a lot.
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I'd say it's priceless.
This really is beautiful Red. You sound like heaven.
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That's high praise.
... You've listened to all of it already, haven't you?
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Which is why she throws caution to the wind, a little. The concept of presenting her work in anything but a professional context is a new one, still. To have a friend listen to it without fully knowing who she is ( was ). A little shamelessly, a little playfully— ]
Which was your favorite?
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You've got a good ear. [ Or maybe it's just coincidence — it's hard to tell. Luckily, she doesn't need to worry about the pause seeming any stranger than it normally does.
She's not here to divulge her thought process, after all ( she rarely ever is ). So, a subtle change in topic, into territory she doesn't mind talking about for once. ] Maybe you'll get a live show one day.
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[Outside the obvious, of course. Enemies gone, ends to war, loved ones awoken. But seeing Red perform would have to be some kind of magic. Her yen for the stage and the medley is something that reads in her every move. Her performances even through simple hums, to the dance they'd shared at the gala, to the way she lit up when they'd listened to his vinyls. Not always approving, but her ear was tuned in to the finnicky layers and tricks and vocal ticks in a way that he had, in the private time of his youth, yearned to grasp.
But Richie never realized the rock star dream. Just became something close to it, the next best thing. Rubbing elbows and pulling circus acts with vocals of a different sort. They're both under limits here. One day maybe they could pick up business as usual.]
I expect front row seats, of course. So which one was inspired by Boxer's handsome mug?
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A first time for everything, she supposes.
Still, it takes care not to raise her hackles — old habits die hard, and she's not a fan of answering the question so directly. ] I'd rather have my work speak for itself. [ A usual fallback, but this isn't a press interview. So, another message comes soon after the first— ]
That's his voice in Paper Boats, though.
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Was he a musician as well, or just hanging around the studio on a whim?
[Not that figures meant much for musical aptitude but he looked more like his literal namesake than he did a crooner. It would be too sweet to see the pair of them in a duet, though. Nearing on saccharine.]
Have you written anything since you got here?
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It still isn't a duet. ]
He'll say neither.
I stand by my decision, though. [ The last question is mysteriously unanswered. ]
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[Is he joking???
Mebbe.]
You're being evasive again. Come on, you've been strumming that old guitar, you can't tell me there's nothing fresh coming to your mind when you're fiddling on it.
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[ Probably not. Also Richie is the FUCKING WORST and she leaves him on read for an hour or so to prove her point.
But eventually— ]
A few things. We'll see if they stick.
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You can be patient for a little while longer. [ Aka whenever she gets her voice back. Which might be never tbh. ]