Inside the studio, the air was thick with creativity, yet Shinji felt a heavy weight resting on his chest. The walls were lined with soundproof panels, adorned with posters of legendary artists who had once breathed life into their music within these very confines. A sleek mixing console dominated the room, its buttons and sliders reflecting the dim light overhead. Various instruments were scattered around, from guitars to keyboards, each holding the promise of melodies yet to be discovered.
Shinji sat hunched over the cluttered table, his notebook sprawled open before him, filled with scribbles and crossed-out lines that spoke of frustration rather than inspiration. He had been trying to write for over an hour, tapping his pencil against his temple as if the rhythm would spark something within him. His heart raced with anxiety, and a sense of impending defeat clawed at him.
"Come on, just one line," he muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing deeper with each passing moment. He kicked his leg out in a burst of anger, but in his haste, he missed his target, catching his toe against the edge of the table.
"Ah, damn it!" Shinji groaned, pulling his foot back as pain shot through his toe, leaving him cradling it in his hands. His frustration had turned into a mix of anger and embarrassment, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent studio.
"Everything okay in here?" A voice broke through the tension. It was Janny, Aiko's friend and the owner of the studio. She stood at the door, her expression a mix of concern and amusement.
"Yeah, just… getting my creativity kicked back into gear," Shinji replied, wincing as he tried to stretch out his sore toe.
Janny crossed her arms, a knowing smile forming on her lips. "You know, writing doesn't work for everyone. Sometimes, you just need to go with the flow. Why not try freestyling?"
"Freestyling?" Shinji raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet hesitant. He had always admired the fluidity of freestyle but never thought it would be something he could pull off.
"Trust me. Just let the beats guide you. Give it a shot!" she encouraged, her enthusiasm infectious.
Willing to give it a try, Shinji nodded. "Alright, let's do it. Can you put on some beats?"
Janny moved to the mixing console, her fingers dancing over the buttons, and soon a catchy rhythm filled the room, pulsing through Shinji's veins. He took a deep breath, feeling the energy shift around him, and let the music wrap around his thoughts.
He closed his eyes, allowing the melody to take hold, and then he began:
"I ain't finna fall down
Fourth quarter shorty
Imma ball out
Don't go to work baby call out
Ain't no waiting, no stalling now
I ain't finna fall down
Fourth quarter shorty
Imma ball out
Don't go to work baby call out
Uh, in the bedroom all out."
The words flowed from his lips, each line resonating with a deep-seated passion he hadn't expected to find. With every syllable, his frustration melted away, replaced by a confidence that grew with the beat. Janny and the other crew members exchanged glances, their eyes widening in awe as they listened to Shinji pour his heart out.
As he continued, the lyrics transformed into a full song, an anthem of resilience and determination. His voice filled the studio, a raw honesty that captivated everyone present. When he finally finished, silence enveloped the room for a moment, the lingering echoes of his words hanging in the air.
"Damn, that was incredible!" Janny exclaimed, breaking the spell. "You've got some serious talent, Shinji!"
"Thanks," he replied, a broad grin spreading across his face, his earlier frustration now a distant memory. He felt lighter, liberated by the flow of creativity that had taken hold.
"Let's record that!" Janny suggested, her excitement palpable.
Back at Villa Marchesa, Aiko's mother was in a different realm of planning and scheming. She had just finished speaking with Obimudeath, providing him with all the details she had gathered on Shinji. A sly smile crept onto her face as she considered the possibilities that lay ahead.
Meanwhile, Akari approached her mother, feigning innocence. "I'm just going out to get some sanitary products," she said, but her mind was already drifting towards her secret rendezvous with Obimudeath.
"Alright, dear. Be safe," her mother replied, unaware of her daughter's true intentions.
As Akari stepped outside, her heart raced with anticipation. She made her way to Obimudeath's place, excitement bubbling within her. When she reached his door, she knocked lightly, and he opened it almost immediately, a welcoming smile lighting up his face.
"Akari!" he said, pulling her into an embrace. They hugged tightly before pulling back to look into each other's eyes. She kissed him softly, feeling a rush of affection.
"Thanks for taking the job," he said, gratitude evident in his voice.
"Just don't mess it up," Akari warned playfully. "That's how you'll build your rep."
"I understand," Obimudeath replied, determination in his eyes. "I'll do my very best."
"Good," Akari said, feeling a surge of confidence in him. "Now, how about we go out for drinks?"
Obimudeath's smile widened at the idea."Sounds perfect."
With that, they both stepped out into the evening, the warmth of the night enveloping them as they set off on their adventure, leaving the complications of their lives behind, at least for a little while.