Hit'n Those Notes Ch. 03

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Too loud! Too loud! I pulled them out quickly.

"Too loud!" I complained.

"Sorry," Mike called toward me. "Try it now."

I held one close to my ear, "Better..."

I could adjust this on my end, but having the volume set from the source made it so I wouldn't have to adjust anything and guess wrong. Having everything set was part of the prep for the performance.

"From the top...," I requested.

Again, the guitar riff began, and I began singing, "Twenty-five years and I'm alive here still... Trying to get up that great big hill of hope... For a destination..."

Bill had a concerned look on his face, and I stopped singing, "What?"

"You're flat; can you hear it," he asked.

"No..."

"Ask them to pull back the track," Bill said.

"Mike, can you turn down the playback, I'm coming across flat."

"No 'ambient' sound... Hold on...," he said. He made some adjustments, and I could hear myself humming bars and sounding less 'dead' in the monitors. I held up a thumb and sang the chorus. Bill nodded, and I ran the song out.

"I'm bringing down filters; let's try it again," Mike said.

"Sure..."

I was building to the first chorus when Bill shook his head at me.

"Flat," I asked. The music stopped.

"Yeah, but you sound like there's an echo," he said.

"Mike, can we pull back the reverb?"

"Sure, Brea... How's that," he asked.

I looked toward Bill, and he had his thumb down.

"Little more Mike..."

"OK..."

Bill was thumbs up now, and I sang, "And I try, Oh my God do I try... I try all the time... In this institution..."

Bill was nodding 'Yes' now, and I finished strong.

"Watch your breathing, especially when pushing those raspy higher notes. Sounded good; control the breathing, and I think you got it."

I nodded. "Mike, how much time do I have?"

"We can run you through that a couple more times before your time is up."

Had my hour really gone by that fast? Crap!

"OK... Thanks Mike. How do my levels look?"

"Good, you're pushing the highs but totally within standard ranges. I can dampen that some if you want."

I looked toward Bill. "Dampen the rasp?"

"No... Stick with that last run," he replied.

I spoke to Mike, saying, "No, don't dampen anything."

"Sure, are you ready?"

"Yeah..."

The music began, and I sang the song with more focus on my breathing. At the highs, I could feel the stain in my vocals, but I powered through. When done, I looked toward Bill, who had moved to the middle of the lower-level seating area.

"Well?"

He shouted back, "Think that's it..."

He stood and made his way back to the stage. "Breathing. Control that, and you'll nail it."

"I think I'm just nervous," I said in an attempt to excuse myself from his assessment.

"Well, you better get over it, girl."

Before I could answer, Mike was in my IEM, saying, "Brea, you want to look at the board?"

"That's OK, we locked in?"

"Yeah, it looks good to me; I just saved the board for 'What's Going On'. You sounded really good. I can squeeze you in tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM if you want to practice some more. I've got thirty minutes."

"Awesome... I'd really like that, thank you."

"No problem... Bring me your monitors, and we'll store and recharge it for tomorrow."

The in-ear monitors were owned by the hotel and were a definite upgrade from the pathetic model I owned. I headed towards Mike, pulling out the IEMs and unclipping the Bluetooth pack clipped to my jeans. We talked briefly about entering and exiting the stage tomorrow night. I sensed movement across the stage and saw Wyatt walking towards center stage.

He waved, and I waved back. Mike saw him also, and after boxing my IEM, we confirmed our appointment for the morning. He wasn't trying to be rude, but it was Wyatt's session time, so he pointed me toward the stage exit, where Bill was waiting. I thanked him again for everything and made my way toward Bill.

Tuesday, March 27th, 6:07 p.m.

Bill's critique of my practice session was encouraging, but rushed since he and Charles were going to the Blue Man Group show and he needed to get going. I must have heard the word 'breathing' no less than five times in his two-minute assessment. There was encouragement, but I needed to really concentrate if I was going to move on past the first round.

His last bit of advice given was to 'zone out the audience'. He said it was likely going to be a full house, and that if I sang for the enjoyment it gave me -- the audience would feel it.

I didn't have the confidence he had in me, but I told him I would be practicing tonight and asked if he wanted to come with me in the morning for my 8:00 AM practice session. He said he would be there; we hugged, and I watched him head to the casino to drag Charles from the slots. I had plenty of emotions flowing right now; the biggest one was feeling alone. Augh!

I needed to get ready for the dinner gathering tonight. Focus on the positive, I thought as I turned toward the elevators. From across the lobby, I noticed someone walking towards me. I recognized that smiling face and gave Blake Schultz a little wave. That smile, I wondered what it would look like coming out of the shower with just a towel on.

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Author's Note: Don't be afraid to rate this story if it's doing anything for you (you don't have to have an account to do so, and there are no prizes for most 'Rates'). If you comment, I will reply directly to you (if you have an account) or in the comments if you're anonymous, so let's chat...

If there are problems or you have criticisms you'd like to share privately, feel free to message me; I'd love to address them if I can.

I'm trying to grow as a storyteller; I'm far from perfect, so any help is much appreciated. Thanks for reading...

Rachel M. Moore

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