Page 193 of Sweet Nightmare
“Play the fucking song, Stephen.”
I snort and pull up the next track.
“This one’s rough.”
Zymon immediately sits forward.
“Good.”
I look at him.
“Good?”
“If you thought it was finished, I’d be worried.”
“Fuck you.”
“Play it.”
I hit the keyboard.
The track fills the studio.
Zymon goes quiet.
That’s the thing about him.
When the music starts, he shuts the hell up.
No unnecessary comments. No trying to impress me. No talking over the vocals.
He just listens.
I watch his face through the monitor while the track plays.
His eyes narrow when the bass comes in.
He nods once during the second verse.
Then nothing.
When the track ends, he sits there for another second.
Finally, he looks at me.
“Second verse.”
“What about it?”
“Cut four bars.”
I look at the screen.
“Why?”
“You’re saying the same thing twice.”
I scroll through the lyrics.
