Introduction
Alexis
I removed my headphones and sighed in frustration. I pushed a button and glared at the recording artist, Maya Arcan, one of the famous up-and-coming country singers in this generation, thanks to me.
“Maya, how many times do I have to tell you... put more story and heart in that song! You’re singing like a robot! Do you want your career to go down the drain?” She flinched and bowed her head, and I felt my assistant elbowed me softly, so I turned to him.
“What?!”
“Alex, it will not hurt you to be more sensitive. Cut her some slack.” Robbie, my assistant of three years and my friend, advised me.
I scoffed and lifted my brow. “Oh, I am not even starting yet. Just because she is famous, she thinks has the right to throw a tantrum? The listeners are not that dumb, Robbie. They know what is great music, and what is poorly executed. I will not let this tarnish my reputation.” Robbie sighed and signaled Maya to step out of the booth.
She dragged her feet and hesitantly stopped in front of me, as she played with her fingers, chewing her lips nervously.
“This is the last time I will tolerate such unprofessionalism, Maya. The next time you do this, find yourself another recording company. I do not produce trash.”
She snapped her head and gaped at my warning, then her innocent face was replaced with fury and poison.
“Shut the fuck up, Romanov! I have had it. I am worth more than this! I do not have to take more of your insults. Who do you think you are? Just because you were born to genius musicians, you can belittle others like this? For your information, contracts are lining up for me. I have had enough of sucking it up to you, you son of a bitch. You are just riding in your parent’s coattails after all. Arrogant brute!” She snarled and glared, pointing at my face.
I gritted my teeth, squeezed my eyes shut and counted to ten. Deep breaths, Alexis. I do not want to hurt a woman, and it is not worth the energy.
Me, riding my parents’ coattails? My lips twisted into a smirk. What a joke. I made it far in this industry because of my skills and talent. My parents have nothing to do with it. Young singers had this wrong idea that I used my parent’s influence to help me rise in the music world, but that is where they are wrong. I can proudly say that I got here because of my efforts, and of course, the support from my friends.
A cold smile cracked my blank expression. I stared at Maya and all the fight she had was diminished. “Leave. I do not want to produce a sound that came from such a muddled heart. It is irritating and repulsive. You cannot reach someone with that kind of sound. Good luck with your contracts; if someone will actually offer you one.” I spat and slammed the door on my way out.
Artists will have a hard time finding new sponsors and contracts when people find out that a certain artist was kicked out of my company.
I greeted and gave short smiles to my employees and proceeded to my private elevator. I massaged my temples and gritted my teeth.Fuck, my head hurts. Different sounds entering my mind-- excitement, irritation, anger, panic, joy, trepidation, fear-- and it makes me heady and dizzy.
I cannot remember when it started, but when I was six, I started to hear sounds, and those are not merely sounds. These are the sounds of people’s hearts.
We were on a vacation in Thailand, waiting for our order in a famous local restaurant when mom’s greatest fan approached our table.
That is when time slowed down for me. I was in a dimension where time froze for a moment and a sound-- an upbeat, full of life tune-- was sent to my ears. Just then, I knew what was the emotion was-- happiness.
It’s not like I can pick up every sound. My mind will surely be blown to bits, but I can choose from the sound spreading in my surroundings and analyze that particular sound.
For me, the recording company is a hotspot for various types of sounds. Though the rest of the sounds may seem muddled, and negative emotions make me feel unsettled, I have learned to control this ability, if I may choose to give it a name, for years now.
At first, I freaked out. I ran out of the restaurant, as far as my feet can get me, but sounds followed me everywhere. Every corner and street I went, different sounds rang my ears. I was conflicted and confused, and when I told mom and dad about it... they were surprised, of course.
But they helped me through it.
Mom suggested that from all of the muddled sounds, I pick one emotion and focus on it. Then compose a song based on that emotion. It would help me cope since I like composing music.
Dad was quite amazed when I showed him my piece, and I was greatly praised.
By the age of twelve, I wrote songs for my mother and my father relied on me to make some musical arrangements for his orchestra when he is busy.
I was even consulted by veteran musicians and singers when it comes to their recordings. My distinct hearing ability, coupled with my ability to hear the sound of someone’s heart, helped me produce legendary music and hit songs.
By twenty, I was able to compose hundreds of music that got me on the top ten on Forbes list of wealthiest bachelor. I owe it all to my royalties.
Well, we were already affluent because of my parents’ success in music. From then, I used my royalties to build my own recording company and established my name in the music industry.
In just five years, A.R Productions became a brand for music with great melody and taste.
I entered my private elevator and pushed the rooftop button. It turns out, as long as I am not within three meters from the source of a sound, I can mute them out. Not entirely mute them, but the peace I acquire from the quiet space is enough to reduce my stress; the rooftop is one of those places where I feel at peace.
The elevator dinged and opened, and I stepped out and inhaled the fresh summer breeze. It’s about nine in the morning, and I am stressed out.
I really have to be more critical when choosing my artists. If not for Mr. Smith who is one of my investors, I would not even accept Maya. I know that she is a spoiled brat and does not have any talent, at all.
The main reason why she was even being featured in several music charts was because I purposefully created songs that will fit her voice. Thankfully, that was the last favor I will ever give to Mr. Smith.
I want someone who can perfectly deliver the songs I wrote. I need a singer who understands the emotions behind the song.
I want people to feel what the song is all about. Honestly, my artists did not do well, especially in the ‘make people’s heart throb’ with your music department.
I am still searching for someone who will bring my music to life perfectly.
I sat on the bench and leaned on the backrest, cross-legged. It was a good idea to decorate the area with ornamental plants and pots of flowers on the side of the rooftop.
About six benches were scattered all over, and I was examining the entire area when I caught a glimpse of something black swaying on the ledge of the building.
I abruptly stood up and narrowed my eyes. My heart pulsed when I figured out what that thing was. “What the fuck...”
I strode towards the ledge where I saw a person standing on the edge of the building--my building-- so fast, my jaw tightened and my hands balled into a fist.
From the build, I can say that he is a man. But something has been bugging my mind right now. If someone was here, then I will be able to hear his sound.
But there was none.
“Hey. What the hell are you doing?” The stranger did not budge and just stood straight. “For fuck’s sake, we are on the thirtieth floor! Do you want to die? And you chose my building for that?!”
Still, the man ignored me like he did not hear me. “Are you... deaf?”
I smacked my forehead for being stupid. Of course, if he is deaf, then he would not definitely hear me.
But I have to get him off the ledge. The wind here is strong and he could really fall and die. It would be bad for me if the press got a hold of a report that someone committed suicide in my building. It would be bad publicity for me and my brand.
I was so busy with my thoughts that I did not notice when he turned around to face me.
I was stunned when I saw his round, gray eyes staring through me... as if he is boring a hole through my soul, but his face is blank and expressionless.
His hood was blown away by the wind and his long, ombre, lilac hair flowed freely along with the wind. His hands are tucked inside the pocket of his black Nirvana hoodie.
He is wearing ripped, dark jeans and black converse. I think he’s about 5′8 in height.
Overall, he looked good despite the casual outfit.
My heart skipped a beat and I gasped when he swayed and almost fell, but he was able to grab something. I almost stopped breathing because of fear but his eyes remained blank and hollow.
I swallowed the lodge in my throat and took a deep breath. “Can you... please, come down? It’s quite dangerous to stay there. You will die.”
I was surprised when his eyes sparkled when I uttered the last word. I noticed the subtle twitch on his lips, then turned his back on me and attempted to jump, but not if I can help it.
Fuck you. I will not let you tarnish my reputation by killing yourself here. I worked so hard to get to where I am.
I ran and jumped towards him, then pulled him away of the dangerous ledge. I used my own body to lessen the impact on him, all thinking why I should go to great lengths for a suicidal brat.
My arms were wrapped around his body, both of our hearts beating so fast. I patted his cheeks to call his attention but there was no response. Then I heard a soft snore.
Is he sleeping? What the fuck? He got me all worried and slept?After pulling such a dangerous stunt? I hissed and swore. He will be the death of me.
“What a troublesome brat.” I stood up and put his arm around my neck, dragged him inside and into my office, then laid him gently on my sofa. I stared at the beautiful boy donning an all-black outfit and swore internally
I cannot hear his sound. All I picked up was his steady breathing and light snores, and I have a feeling that I will definitely regret this; regret meeting him and saving his life.
TO BE CONTINUED
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