Kai 

I left the recording studio at eight tonight.

A week’s worth of labor, recording the moment I got out of school. Lo and behold, I came up with nothing. I should have listened to my body when I was zoning out of sessions and I closed my eyes for longer than necessary. Yet I played on, trying to make something work with each session. That’s what happens when you’re that deep into the workflow. Got a one track mind and a guitar in your hands and nothing in the world can stop you, even if you’re not achieving much of anything. 

Unless it’s a call from your dad…and noticing you have three missed calls before you picked it up. 

“Kai? Kai! Where are you?!” 

I left my electronic keyboard (Which I unofficially adopted as my own) and held my phone up to my ear with my shoulder, “Oh…Hi Dad, I’m just at school, working on a new EP.”

“Is that why you didn’t pick up my calls?” 

“I’m sorry, I was just really busy–”

“It’s almost 10! You realize it’s a school night?”

“...Yes…But this is important.”

“Not more important than your school work, kiddo!” 

…He had a point there, and I was just too tired to remind him that I’ve been doing well in all my classes (minus P.E, but he knows that’s a given) while working on music in my own time…Or that I was already walking to my car for that matter. 

“I understand, I’ll be home soon, ok?”

“Ok, I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.” 

I hang up and unlock my car, it makes a beeping noise in the uncharacteristically empty parking lot. Funny, without all the cars being taken up by student and staff parking, you really notice how big it is. Especially compared to the school. 

I buckle my seatbelt and turn the keys, putting my car into reverse and start driving home.

Nothing.

All that practicing, writing, brainstorming with nothing to show for it. It was bad enough I was staying to record long after school closed (I had permission from my advisor so I wasn’t breaking any rules) But coming back with no progress? I didn’t want to imagine how Dad would react to that.

I can’t be too mad, he’s supportive–more than supportive actually. Guided me when I was making my first EP last semester before it blew up–ok, ‘blew up’ is a stretch, it was one song, but it got a couple thousand views and streams on an indie site. Right into the portfolio! So it sucks that I’ve been having writer's block all semester. Dad and my sister have given me ideas for what to do next, but it doesn't hit the same. Even the stuff I managed to get out (somehow) hasn’t reached tenth of what that one song got. 

But you know, I’m a lucky guy with a good family and every day I put my faith in God and ask for His guidance. He’s given me an opportunity to be where I am now and I’ll push through this drought of inspiration. 

I put a pin in my self-doubt and  turn on the radio when I get to the nearest stoplight, static buzzing between words as I change the channel. 

The real reason women in America are–buzz–Why don’t you introduce yourself Dylan?–buzz–♪Nobody gonna hold me down no ♪–buzz–That is what I believe in every way imaginable to be the worst poss–buzz–next is AYDEN’s leading single on his latest album “Do you want somebody?” Let’s give it a listen!

Only a couple seconds after the music starts—instruments par to his usual music, well produced like it passed rounds of test audience—I shut it off. Ayden had to be the last thing I needed to hear right now. Call it bitterness or envy–whatever, I just can’t stand to hear his high-pitched, autotuned…manufactured voice right now. Ayden’s funny, same age, same background, same passion, and he’s an international superstar. 

And to the left is his no-name former acquaintance, producing music in the spare office in his high school with hardly any success to his name. 

I turn the radio back on and switch to the country channel.