At No Time || Bruno Mars

11

"Ooh! I'm so nervous!" Elle Marie, the artist of "Delusion" was wringing her hands together anxiously as they all rode up the elevator. "You're gonna be fine, babe. The songs great and your vocals blow," Trystan assured the younger woman. She had grown fond of the nineteen-year-old and thought of her as the younger sister she never had.

Elle groaned, running a hand through her dark bushy hair. The tips of her balsa-toned ears shaded a hint of scarlet in her distress. "I hope they think the same thing."

Trystan could only chuckle. If she hadn't taken the brief job as Elle's assurer, she was confident she would have been mirroring the disposition. Trystan's own heart hammered wildly in her chest.

When the elevator opened onto the eleventh floor, the younger woman took a deep breath and stepped through the doors, giving Trystan a moment to gather herself.

"Let's get'erdone, guys." Neal fixated his cap onto his head before assuredly striding off the conveyor. "It's now or never," Roger sighed and followed behind Neal. Peter went to move next, but noticed Trystan still hadn't made an effort to progress. He held the elevator button that kept the doors from closing and looked into her agitated countenance. "You okay?"

"I can't remember the last time I was this nervous about something," Trystan chuckled in spite of herself.

"Hey, we didn't spend two weeks together about to rip each others' heads off for you to get cold feet now. We made a damn good song, now let's go do the damn thing." Peter allowed himself to smile a bit to ward off her nervousness. He and Trystan never seemed to agree on much, but he wouldn't let her back out now, especially since he'd had to live down the cuss-out of the century on her behalf. "Let's go." He placed his hand on the small of her back and gently brought her forward.

The conference room was already full and Peter and Trystan were the last to arrive. Steve and Lance were of attendance and took the liberty of introducing them both. Curt nods greeted them and Trystan's stomach burst into butterflies. They weren't going to make this easy for her.

Then, a man with dark, styled hair and a goatee to match stood at the end of the table. He introduced himself as Akil Benson, the chairman of Vivacity Records. Trystan clasped her hands together before they could begin to tremble.

Mr. Benson briefed them all of the company's guidelines and the goals they were always reaching for. "We have our brightest young star right here." He walked over to Elle and placed his hands on her shoulders. She smiled shyly at his complimentary commentary. "She has the quality that will only make this company bigger and greater than it already is—with the right song that is." His laugh coaxed everyone else's own mirth, faux or not.

"And that's why I requested for Tyranny to help produce this record." Trystan was surprised he hadn't called them the "Peter Clan" and how the name was far from any of the characters in the group, but decided this wasn't the best time to be mordant. "While I commend this company on its self-sufficiency, I have no problem with reaching out to other producers to make the best song possible. And with that being said, here's "Delusion."

Besides the haunting piano and vocals of the song, the room was absolutely void of noise, and that made Trystan nervous. She'd done plenty of sit-ins before back in New York, but all of them attained folks that would at least smile or nod their heads in reaction. Not a soul in the room even appeared to be breathing. Trystan grabbed the pen atop the paper that was sitting in front of her. Beneath the table, she began to click it to ease her anxiety.

No one else seemed to be bothered by the incessant clicking, or even seemed to notice it for that matter, but Peter, who had taken the chair to the right of her could hear. Rather than annoyed, he pitied her perturbation and wished she could walk into a room as freely as he was able to. Unnoticeably, he reached beneath the table and held her wrist, signaling for her to stop. He whispered into her ear, "Everything's all good. They like it." Trystan gave him a, How do you know? look, and he returned, "Trust me."