Live While We're Young

Chapter 5: Song Writing

Niki: I sat in Darcy’s room, bringing up my music production software. She hummed a song and strummed on her guitar. I listened to it. Darcy wasn’t exactly your best guitar player. In fact, she had gone to lesson’s for a whole summer before saying she knew enough and quitting. She hummed the song, but the guitar’s chords were bland, with not much real soul. They were just there. “What do you think of the guitar?” she asked.

“Well,” I said, “I personally think they could use a little more.”

“Like what?” Darcy asked, not giving my harsh comment any sweat.

“Hand it to me,” I said. Darcy handed over the Yamaha FG730S Acoustic to my patient hand and I pulled it to my body. “Hum the song,” I instructed Darcy. She did obediently. I strummed, chord by chord, putting life to the strings. My fingers moved like bird wings over the fragile strings, letting them bend under the pick. Darcy smiled and hummed more. Each note created a personality to the guitar: a little sas, a little mysteriousness, a little hyperness, a little cheekyness, a little sweetness. I took note of my fingers movements, reminding myself the notes they fell under. Finally, I handed the guitar back to Darcy. She sighed.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate you?” she asked, not taking the guitar. I laughed.

“You liked it?” I asked.

“Of course!” Darcy said, “You have to record that.”

“I will. But first we need more,” I said. Darcy nodded. This went on for hours. I would play a piano part on her keyboard, then a drum part, then an orchestral part. Darcy sang and hummed and nodded and smiled. Finally, we were ready.

Darcy: I had seen microphones all my life. But as Niki brought out the recording mic, I felt something new toward them. Niki plugged in her headphone splitter, plugging in her Beats and my Bose Quiet Comforts. I looked at the screen, the new waveform I had watched grow. Now I just had to finish it. I gave Niki a thumbs up and she hit play and record a the same time. I listened to the intro, a mixture of all sorts of instruments. Then I sang. “Hey boy I’m waiting on yah, I’m waiting on yah, come on and let me sneak you out,” I sang. Of course. A cover of my dad. It was my idea. Darcy Styles singing Harry Styles. I only hoped it would work. Or say a message. I kept singing.

Niki: Darcy’s voice compared to a similar sort of voice to her dad. A higher key, but the same rough but smooth voice. It sounded great against the cover beat. Her voice changed with each note, perfecting itself. “Let’s go crazy crazy crazy til we see the sun. I know we only met but lets pretend its love. And never never never stop for any one. Tonight let’s get some! And live while we’re young.” Darcy’s voice went through the song almost effortlessly. It wasn’t bad. I found myself bobbing my head, like I did to anything I thought sounded good. Darcy had her eyes closed, singing the song by heart. She even held the notes when she wanted, and made the song sound awesome. I loved it. Finally, she finished the song. I hit the stop and the recording stopped. “Do you think people will like it?” she asked, her voice soft. She took a sip of the water bottle right by her.

“I hope so,” I said, “But just remember not even your dad did perfect the first time.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, smiling, “What did you think?”

“I thought it was awesome. I think we just have to put it out and it will work,” I said. Darcy grinned from ear to ear.

“Here’s to hope,” Darcy said. I smiled and hit the Export button to save the song.