Rewind With A Superstar System-Chapter 111: It Doesn’t Even Matter (2)
<🎧 Song Recommendation: In The End by Linkin Park (inspiration song!)>
...
By the time Von and Alex walked back into Studio A the following evening, the atmosphere had completely shifted.
Patch was sitting at the massive console with a smug, satisfied grin on his face. He didn’t even say hello. He just pointed a finger at the leather couch, telling them to sit down, and immediately hit the spacebar on his keyboard.
The studio monitors came to life.
It started exactly how Von had envisioned it in the Zone State. A single, echoing piano melody rang out through the speakers. It was lonely, isolated, and deceptively calm. It played for exactly four bars.
Then, the bottom dropped out.
A massive, violent wall of sound slammed into the room. Heavy, distorted electric guitars roared out of the speakers. A drumbeat soon marched forward, layered over a deep sub-bass that Von could actually feel in his chest.
The session guitarist Patch had hired had delivered perfectly; the riff was aggressive, raw, and sounded like it belonged in a packed stadium.
"Holy shit," Alex muttered, his eyes widening as the heavy instrumental washed over them.
"I told you," Patch yelled over the music, pausing the track. The sudden silence was felt. "I had the session guy layer three different guitar takes to make it sound that thick. It’s a monster."
Von grinned, feeling his adrenaline spike. "It’s perfect. Let’s not waste any time. We’re doing a rough take first to lock in the timing."
They stepped into the glass-enclosed live room. They stood on opposite sides of the soundproof partition, each stepping up to their own microphone.
"Just a scratch take," Von told Alex through the glass, tapping his headphones. "Don’t blow your voice out yet. Just find the pocket."
When Patch rolled the beat, they ran through the song at fifty percent energy. Von intentionally kept his [Emote] skill deactivated to save his remaining EXP.
He just focused on the technical delivery, making sure his melodic choruses synced up perfectly with the tail end of Alex’s fast-paced verses. It was purely mechanical, just mapping out the flow of the rap-rock structure.
But even at half energy, they could both feel the sheer potential of the track.
"Alright," Von said, stepping back from the mic and taking a deep breath. He looked through the glass at Alex. "Now let’s do it for real. Give me everything you have. Don’t hold back the anger."
Alex gave a firm nod, his dark eyes locking onto the microphone stand in front of him.
"Patch," Von called out into the room mic. "Turn the volume in our headphones all the way up. We need to feel it."
"You got it. Tracking for real. In three, two..."
The lonely piano intro echoed in their ears.
Alex closed his eyes. He didn’t think about hitting the right notes. He thought about the hospital bills. He thought about the empty apartment in Georgia, the foster homes, and the feeling of complete helplessness as he watched his sister’s life slip away.
When the heavy guitars crashed into the headphones, Alex leaned into the mic and let the dam break.
🎶🎸
I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesn’t even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end, it doesn’t even matter
🎶🎸
He rode the heavy drumbeat flawlessly.
In the other booth, Von watched him. Suddenly, the air inside the studio felt... heavy.
Von blinked. The bright amber lights of the control room seemed to dim. The shadows in the corners of the studio began to stretch and warp. Dust motes floating in the air suddenly looked like falling gray ash. A slow ticking clock began to echo beneath the heavy bassline.
It wasn’t real. It was a hallucination.
Alex’s A-tier [Audio-Visual Projection] had fully activated. Because Alex was finally pouring genuine, unfiltered grief and rage into the microphone, the skill was projecting that exact emotion into the physical space of the room. Von could literally see the feeling of time running out.
🎶🎸
One thing, I don’t know why
It doesn’t even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme
To remind myself of a time when I tried so hard
🎶🎸
Alex sang a few more verses, and Von kept contributing before it got to his turn to deliver his verses, which remained the most difficult part of the song.
Von immediately triggered his [Emote] skill, gripping the mic stand and throwing his head back. He came in with the massive, soaring chorus, acting as the agonizing release to the tension Alex had just built.
🎶🎸
I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesn’t even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end, it doesn’t even matter
🎶🎸
Von’s voice was a melodic scream, carrying the absolute limit of his vocals. The two of them bounced off each other with flawless chemistry. Alex played the relentless, grounded reality, and Von played the soaring, emotional devastation.
They pushed through the second verse, the tension never dropping for a single second.
🎶🎸
Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It’s so unreal
With nowhere to run or go
Watch the time go right out the window
Tryin’ to hold on, more than anyone knows
I gave it my all just to watch you go
🎶🎸
When the final chorus rang out and the heavy guitars finally faded into the closing piano notes, the hallucination in the studio instantly shattered. The falling ash vanished. The shadows snapped back to normal.
Inside the booth, Alex let go of the microphone stand, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. He was completely drenched in sweat.
Von took his headphones off, his own heart pounding against his ribs.
He immediately pulled up the System interface and locked his eyes on the digital file Patch was saving on the monitor.
[Inspect]
[Song: It Doesn’t Even Matter]
[Status: Incomplete] [Unreleased]
[Artists: Von Varley, Alex Hall]
[Song Score: 90]
Von’s eyes widened. Ninety.
It was the highest score he had ever seen the System generate. He knew the song was an absolute masterpiece while they were recording it, but hitting the 90-point threshold was beyond his expectations. With a score that high, it was practically guaranteed to be a chart-destroying monster once it hit the radio, or so he hoped.
Von stepped out of the booth, followed closely by Alex.
Patch was sitting at the console, staring blankly at the mixing board. The veteran producer wasn’t moving.
"Patch?" Von asked, wiping sweat from his forehead. "You get the take?"
Patch slowly turned his chair around. He looked at Von, then at Alex. His usual laid-back demeanor was completely gone.
"I don’t know, boys... But why is this song so emotional? I’ve recorded hundreds of tracks in this chair. I don’t cry over songs. But if any of you actually had the experience you just sang about... I can only imagine how you felt."
Patch let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. It was a solemn tone Von had never seen the producer use.
"We got it," Patch finally confirmed softly. "It’s perfect."
