Interlude

October 10, 2019

My studio's a sanctuary in the dead of night. The world melts away, and it's just me, my rig, and the pulse of "Bad Habit" thrumming through the veins of my computer. Settling into my chair, I drag the file open, the waveforms a jagged blue mountain range on the screen. One last steadying breath, and I'm lost. 

"You always knew the way to wow me..." I croon, pouring my heart into every syllable. "Fuck around, get tongue-tied, and..."'

I hit the playback button, the speakers pulsing with the sound of my own voice. "Ugh, not good enough." My murmur echoes in the dimly lit space. I chase the perfect take, over and over.

I took a sip of now-cold coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. Then, squaring my shoulders, I gave it another shot.

"You always knew the way to wow me, Fuck around, get tongue-tied, and..." 

Better, but still not quite there. I made a note to come back to the vocals later, then turned my attention to the instrumentation.

I lost myself in the technical details, adjusting EQ levels and fiddling with compression ratios. To an outsider, it might have looked like obsession, but to me, it was a labor of love. Each tiny tweak brought the song one step closer to the vision in my head.

The night wore on, the moon tracing its arc across the sky outside my window. But in the cocoon of my studio, time had no meaning. There was only the music, the endless pursuit of that perfect sound.

My eyes grew heavy, my fingers starting to fumble on the keys. But I pushed through the exhaustion, driven by a feverish need to bring this song to life.

And slowly, painstakingly, it began to take shape. The pieces fell into place, the disparate elements coalescing into something greater than the sum of its parts. It was exhilarating, like watching a part of my soul crystallize in digital form. 

Finally, as the first hint of dawn began to paint the sky, I sat back and hit play one last time. The opening notes of "Bad Habit" filled the room, and a shiver ran down my spine. It wasn't perfect - not yet - but it was so damn good. 

The cafe's a welcome change of pace, a chance to let my mind breathe after the intensity of last night's session. The rich aroma of coffee wraps around me like a warm hug as I step inside, the chatter of patrons a soothing white noise.

I place my order, then find a seat by the window. People-watching has always been a hobby of mine, but today, it feels different. Like I'm seeing the world through a new lens, picking up on details I might have glossed over before.

A group of women caught my eye. They're huddled around a table, giggling over something on one of their phones. One of them, a brunette with a bright red scarf, keeps glancing my way. I pretend not to notice, focusing on the steam curling from my coffee cup.

"Excuse me," a voice breaks into my thoughts. I look up to see the brunette standing by my table, a shy smile on her face. "I'm sorry to bother you, but my friends and I were wondering... are you single?"

I slip into that familiar mask, a charming smile curving my lips. "I'm flattered," I say gently, "but I'm actually waiting for my girlfriend right now."

The lie comes easily, a polite fiction to sidestep an uncomfortable situation. The brunette's smile falters, but she nods in understanding. "Of course, I'm sorry to bother you."

She retreats back to her friends, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. It's strange. I haven't done that nearly as much as I had before…

I'm lost in thought, stirring my coffee absently, when a shadow falls across my table. I look up to see a man regarding me with a hopeful gaze.

"E-excuse me, have you ever considered modeling?"

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. "Modeling? No, I can't say I have."

The man smiles, excitedly pulling out a crumpled business card. "I'm a designer. I have a catalog of amazing clothing, they just don't fit well on me." His voice gets higher with every word, a nervous energy vibrating through him.

I take the card, turning it over in my fingers. "I'm flattered," I say, "but I'm not sure if modeling is really my thing."

The man's smile wavers. "Please, I'll pay you! Anything you want," he blurts out, the desperation in his eyes making me pause. "You can even pick your favorites from my entire wardrobe... I just need someone to make these clothes look as good as they deserve."

This was... unexpected. Pay? Free clothes? And besides, it would break up the monotony of being in the studio all day. A little adventure never hurt anyone, right? 

"You know what," I say slowly, "let's do it. When's the shoot?"

"Oh my god, yes! Thank you, thank you so much!" His face breaks into a wide grin, all the previous tension melting away with a sigh of relief. He grabs my hand for a brief, enthusiastic shake. "This is seriously awesome. Let's make this happen – when are you free? I have a studio space, we can get going right away if you'd like!"

"How about this afternoon?" I suggest.

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect!" The man beams. "I'll give you some time, and I'll start getting things ready at the studio. Do you need the address?"

I raise an eyebrow, a chuckle escaping me. "Unless you have a secret headquarters for all your gear, isn't the studio at the same address on the card?"

The man flushes slightly. "You know, you'd think a designer would pay closer attention to detail," he chuckles, scratching the back of his balding head. "Of course it is! Well then, I'll see you there shortly." 

As the man walks away, I lean back in my chair, my mind buzzing. A modeling gig... who would have thought?

But maybe that's a good thing. I love music, love the way it makes me feel... but I know all too well the dangers of obsession. Of pouring so much of yourself into something that there's nothing left for the rest of the world.

If I want this new life to be better, I need to learn to step back sometimes. To appreciate the little things, the moments of human connection that I had no choice but to overlook before.

Like the way the barista smiles as she hands me my coffee, or the sound of laughter from a nearby table. The way the sunlight streams through the cafe window, painting everything in a warm, golden glow.

It's a shift in perspective, a new way of seeing the world. And as I sit there, sipping my coffee and watching the ebb and flow of life around me, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude. For this second chance, this opportunity to build a life that isn't lonely.

The designer's studio was tucked away on a side street, a surprisingly spacious loft crammed with clothing racks, lighting equipment, and bolts of vibrant fabric. He greeted me at the door with an effusive warmth, immediately ushering me inside.

"Welcome, welcome!" he declared, eyes twinkling. "We're all set up. Let's get you into the first outfit."

He leads me to a makeshift changing room, handing me a bundle of clothes. "Start with these. I think they'll really suit you."

The first outfit is a sleek, all-black ensemble. Fitted trousers, a turtleneck, and a leather jacket that feels buttery soft against my skin. I emerge from the changing room feeling like a different person.

"Yes! That's it!" The designer circles me, his eyes alight. "The camera is going to love you."

And he's right. As I step in front of the lens, something shifts. The nerves melt away, replaced by a thrilling sense of confidence. I move instinctively, playing with angles and expressions. The camera clicks and whirs, capturing each moment.

"Brilliant! Now, let's try something a bit more playful."

The next outfit is a riot of color. A bright red sweater, patterned trousers, a stack of chunky rings on my fingers. It's a far cry from my usual style, but as I slip into the clothes, I can't help but grin. It's like trying on a new personality.

The shoot continues, each outfit a new adventure. A sleek suit that makes me feel like a billion bucks. A cozy knit and scarf that practically beg for a walk in the park. With each change, I can feel myself relaxing into the role, the camera becoming less of an adversary and more of a friend.

"I think we've got it!" The designer says finally, his face glowing with satisfaction. "Akira, you're a natural. These shots are going to be incredible."

I change back into my own clothes, the adrenaline of the shoot still buzzing in my veins. It's a rush unlike anything I've felt before, different from the high of a perfect take in the studio, but just as addictive.

"Thank you for this opportunity," I say sincerely. "It was... fun."

The designer waves a hand. "No, thank you. You brought these clothes to life in a way I never could have imagined." He starts flipping through the shots on the camera screen, each one a different facet of me. "I can't wait to show you the final edits."

Walking back home with bags of the clothes I wore, the sun was starting to set, casting long shadows across the street. I feel different, somehow. Like I've tapped into a new part of myself. It's not just the thrill of the shoot, but the realization that there are so many sides to me, so many things I'm capable of.

Music will always come first, but this... this was a reminder that life is full of possibilities. That there's magic in stepping outside your comfort zone, in trying on new roles and seeing what fits.

I think back to the designer's words: "You brought these clothes to life." Maybe that's what this is all about. Bringing the different parts of myself to life, one experience at a time. 

With that thought still fresh in my mind, I found myself back in my apartment, the familiar hum of the equipment a welcoming embrace. The exhilaration of the shoot still buzzed in my veins, but as I settled into my chair, a different kind of excitement took hold.

"Bad Habit" glowed on the screen, the product of countless hours of pouring my heart and soul into the music. I was close, so close to finishing this piece that had consumed me for days.

I lost myself in the final touches, tweaking levels and fine-tuning transitions with a newfound precision. It was like the modeling shoot had sharpened my senses, made me more attuned to the subtleties and nuances of my craft.

Making the final adjustments, a wave of emotions washed over me. Pride, certainly, at what I'd created. But also nerves, a fluttering in my stomach at the thought that this was my first completed work in this new world.

I closed my eyes and hit play, letting the music wash over me. The opening notes were familiar, but as the song progressed, I felt goosebumps prickle my skin. The beat, the lyrics, the melody... they wove together seamlessly, a tapestry of sound that was uniquely, undeniably mine.

As the final note faded away, I sat back, a slow grin spreading across my face. It was finished. "Bad Habit" was no longer just an idea, a dream - it was reality, a tangible piece of myself that I could share with the world.

I thought back to the designer's words once more. "You brought these clothes to life." In a way, wasn't that what I was doing with the music? 

The parallels were striking. The modeling shoot, the music... they were different facets of the same drive, the same desire to express, to leave a mark on the world.

And sitting there, in the glow of the studio, with the final notes of "Bad Habit" still ringing in my ears, I felt a sense of wholeness, of rightness. Like I was exactly where I was meant to be, doing exactly what I was meant to do. 

I was just about to get some much needed rest when my phone buzzed. A text from Ai. My heart did a little flip as I read her words: "Hey, can you come over? I have a favor to ask."

A favor? What could she need from me? Curiosity piqued, I replied instantly. "Sure, I'll be right over."

I knocked, and the door swung open almost immediately. Ai stood there, a smile on her face that was equal parts excited and nervous. "Akira! Thanks for coming."

She ushered me inside, and I couldn't help but note the contrast to my own space. Where my apartment was all function, hers had a warmth, a lived-in feel that spoke of comfort and care.

We settled in her living room, the small talk flowing easily. But beneath the surface, I could sense a tension, an unspoken question hanging in the air.

Finally, Ai took a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine. She leaned forward, her voice low and earnest. "So, about that favor..."