bizcochito [camila]

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

18 September 2027

At long last, there had been an upturn in Jack's luck. Term had only just started back at LIFE, and it had been interesting, even if he wasn't completely focused. He'd always struggled in class, where Mal had succeeded by cheating. Jack had simply never cared enough to do well. This time was no different, though he did suppose that he ought to put in a bit more effort. He needed money to make music. He needed music to be happy. He needed to be happy to achieve all the goals he'd set himself as a youth and to make his mums proud. Surely, they wouldn't mind an extra bit of cash flow as it was.

The letter from HR Records had come on Thursday, requesting a meeting on Saturday. And so here Jack was. With no idea what he was getting himself into. They had mentioned a co-writing project with one of their artists, but from there, Jack was sure he'd be able to wow them into landing his own gig. Jack had spent more time dressing this morning, making sure he looked smart, but also like the musical genius that he was. He strode up to the front desk, oozing false confidence. He flashed the young receptionist a grin. "Jack Clark, here to see Camila," said Jack, having practiced the line a half dozen times before apparating here.

The receptionist scowled at him, but pointed him into the direction he needed to go. He thanked her before sauntering off, clutching the padfolio of sheet music and lyrics that he'd brought along to support his case. He knocked on the glass door of the meeting room and opened it, finding it empty save for a jug of water and three glasses. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jack settled into a chair and poured himself some water, wishing it was stronger but appreciating the sentiment all the same. Now, all he had to do was wait.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

September 18, 2027

Even though she might have burned a few bridges in the process, Camila was enjoying being with HR Records over her previous label. She was relieved to be at a point in her career where she could make more decisions for herself and make her music how she wanted it to be, and she was determined to do so to the best of her ability. Maybe it would mean that her albums wouldn't sell as well, as she had been warned numerous times, but it was a risk that she was willing to take in the name of authenticity.

She had a meeting with a songwriter whom she hadn't met before, and she was going into it with an open mind. From what she understood, he was young and relatively inexperienced as far as actually having writing credits to his name, but Camila hoped that that would turn out to be a good thing. She had gotten tired of working with people who put together whatever would make money without caring about how it sounded or what its meaning was.

Waiting in another room with a cup of Spellbucks Coffee in front of her, Camila was curious about what ideas this songwriter would bring her. At worst, they would cut their meeting short, and she wouldn't get any good material out of it. It would be unfortunate, but it happened.

She heard someone speaking, mentioning that they were there for a meeting with her. As she expected, the person there to meet with her was a young man, and he seemed to have had the misfortune of dealing with the receptionist Priscilla. Yi-seul was so much more pleasant to deal with.

Camila gathered her belongings, including her coffee cup, stepped out of the room that she was already in, and walked over to the meeting room into which the songwriter had been directed. The songwriter was already seated, and Camila set down what she was holding so that she could greet him.

"Hello," she said politely, holding out her hand for him to shake now that she didn't have a coffee cup in it. "I'm Camila Calderón."

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Despite his confidence in his work, Jack was reasonably nervous at meeting an international pop sensation. He'd never really classed his music as something that would work for mainstream consumption, preferring to commentate on issues that real people faced and social justice. Not about wanting to dance the night away or kiss boys and girls. But an opportunity was an opportunity, no matter what. He tapped nervously on the table as he sat, awaiting the others to join him.

At the sound of the door opening again, Jack turned and stood to greet the woman he knew to be Camila. "Hi. Jack," he said by way of introduction, taking her hand and shaking it firmly. He took his seat once more and turned to her. "Are we waiting for anyone else?" asked Jack hesitantly, glancing from Camila to the doorway. "I'll admit I haven't heard much of your work but I really like the sound of your voice in Dueling Hearts," he added after a moment. Jack failed to add that it was one of the few songs that he'd had time to listen to since getting the confirmed invitation to meet her. Between his own songwriting, classwork, and working at the bar, Jack's diary was full to burst.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

September 18, 2027

"Hi. Jack," the songwriter said, introducing himself to her as she shook her hand. He was young relative to a lot of people working in the music industry, Camila noted, but he looked as though he was still slightly older than she. That wasn't a problem, really. It was worlds better than working with some guy old enough to be her father who thought he knew exactly what young people wanted to hear on the radio.

"Are we waiting for anyone else?" Jack asked her, looking in the direction of the door as though someone else would be showing up to meet with them.

Camila, who hadn't heard that anyone else would be in the meeting, shook her head. "I don't think so," she replied, only then noticing that there were three glasses of water. Maybe someone would be coming? She wouldn't be surprised if someone did pop in at some point to check on how the meeting was going.

Jack then admitted to her that he hadn't heard most of her music. Guys weren't necessarily her target audience, not that she minded if they also liked listening to her songs. Most of her songs that weren't her own material were targeted more towards teenage girls, though she preferred her own songwriting to be universally applicable. She was a huge fan of the Weird Sisters herself, and she didn't mind playing around with different sounds and genres.

"I would like to hear your ideas, if that's okay?" she wondered, sitting down beside Jack at the table.

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Jack cleared his throat and rubbed his hands on his trousers. Nerves rattled through him like coins in an empty jar. Camila was very famous, and very successful. He asked if they were meeting anyone else, but Camila replied that it would just be the two of them. It surprised Jack - he'd thought that a rep from the record company would want to oversee. "Right," said Jack rather awkwardly, taking a too large sip of water and sputtering. "Ah, fuck. Sorry. I'm nervous," he added with a grimace.

"Aye. I write mostly about my experiences... which I think we all do," Jack started, forcing himself to sit still despite wanting to shift about. "I think people don't appreciate that like... blokes have emotions and such too, you know? Like, I feel inspired when I think about how shit everything is, how shit it is that we keep grinding and never moving up the ladder. How fucked up it is that one percent of the population hold ninety-nine percent of the wealth in the world. How we get up and work and go to sleep and run along a spinning wheel until we die." Jack exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "I don't want to lose that. My voice. But I want to support my family and keep doing what I love."

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

September 18, 2027

Camila knew that her presence had a tendency to make other people nervous when she met them for the first time, and she always hoped that she didn't come across as intimidating despite her fame. Even so, she could see that Jack was a little bit on edge, even cursing and mentioning as much as he practically choked on a sip of his water.

He was responsive, though, when she asked him about his ideas, explaining that he wrote mostly about his own experiences. Jack went on to express that he didn't think that people necessarily took into consideration that men—or "blokes", as he put it—had emotions, too. He added a few points about his dissatisfaction with wealth inequality, and Camila was glad that she could at least follow what he was saying instead of being left totally bewildered, as she might have been in the past.

"I don't want to lose that. My voice. But I want to support my family and keep doing what I love."

Although Camila had nodded slightly as Jack spoke, it was his last point that she understood the most. She couldn't pretend that she had ever been poor, but she certainly hadn't grown up with the kind of wealth—and power, she supposed in a way—that she had earned from her music career.

After having heard what Jack had to say, though, it was clearer to Camila why he was so anxious about their meeting. She didn't want to sound as though she wanted to trivialize what Jack had told her, either, so she made sure that her words conveyed what she wanted to say as clearly as possible. "Of course," she agreed. "You should be able to make your music without compromise, you know?" Camila didn't think that he should have to give up his voice as an artist just to make money. She was with HR Records because she had grown tired of being told what to do by people in the music industry who held more power than she did.

"Personally," added Camila, "I think that music needs authenticity." She could sing just about anything that was handed to her, but that didn't mean that it would resonate with her listeners or sell well. If something sounded fake, other people would be able to pick up on it, and she was glad that Jack recognized that.

"Do you have some examples of songs with you?" she asked. They could start there, and she could see what might fit well with her sound and her existing catalog of music.

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

The candour with which Jack shared his wishes was astounding, even for him. He'd never been the sort to beat around the bush, finding a direct approach to be most successful in most cases. Even faced with a starlet such as Camila, Jack spoke honestly about not wanting to lose his voice. But ultimately, he wanted to provide for his family. If he could find success in the former, surely the latter would follow. "Without compromise, aye," Jack agreed, nodding. "But... I'm scared no one will listen."

With a sigh, Jack ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he'd picked up from Mal. He breathed out a chuckle and a grin when Camila agreed that music needs authenticity. "How do you balance the pressure from a record company from what you ultimately want?" asked Jack. He knew that most people wanted to hear truth in a song - a way for them to connect with the story teller. After all, wasn't every song a story in itself?

At last, Camila asked to see some of the stuff he'd written. "Yeah, course. Here's one I wrote... called Alright," said Jack, shuffling the parchment in his folder and handing Camila a neatly typed up page. "I also brought a USB - but I wasn't sure if there would be a laptop. If you've a guitar about, sure I can manage," said Jack nervously, taking the USB stick from his pocket and placing it on the table. He'd selected three of his favourite songs to record onto that, including the one he'd mentioned earlier. Jack had wanted to show both his talent and his range. He wanted Camila to see that he poured a bit of his soul into each song, almost like a horcrux.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

September 18, 2027

So far, Camila thought that her meeting with Jack was going well, except he did have one question that stumped her. "How do you balance the pressure from a record company from what you ultimately want?"

If she knew the answer to that one, thought Camila, she'd have had a far different experience in her career than what she'd had. "It's… a big challenge," she laughed, not sure that she was an expert in that regard. It didn't get easier, or at least it hadn't for her.

When she asked Jack if he had some examples with him, he brought out a piece of paper with lyrics typed onto it and handed it to her. Camila was pleasantly surprised to hear that he had a flash drive with him. Although non-magical technology made to work in magically dense areas had been legal there for some time, plenty of people opted not to use it or had a limited understanding of how it all worked even if they did. Sadly, she didn't have a computer with her and wasn't sure if there was one in the building somewhere that they could borrow.

She didn't have a guitar with her, either, though she imagined that one of those might be easier to come by. The unfortunate thing was that she couldn't summon either without knowing where it was and what it looked like, so that was a problem.

In lieu of either one, Camila took a look at the paper she'd been handed. The song was titled "Alright", but that alone didn't give her much of an indication of what it was about. The lyrics weren't bad, she thought as she read over them, though good lyrics could be ruined if they were set to subpar music. It was the entire package that mattered.

Not sure what to do about the music, she set the lyrics onto the table and stood up from her seat. Looking around the room and assuming it would be in vain, Camila was stunned to see that there was a closed guitar case sitting in the far corner, positioned so that it was leaning up against the wall. She didn't know whose guitar it was and would be happy to give it back to them if asked, but she didn't think that anyone would really care as long as she and Jack didn't damage it while they borrowed it.

Camila's eyes moved between Jack and the guitar case, assuming from what he had said that it wasn't his. He was seeing what she was seeing, wasn't he? "It's not mine," she told him, "but there is a guitar in the corner."

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK

[JOHN ELLIOT CLARK]

Striking a balance was damn near impossible. Jack was familiar with the prospect of trying to make sure that everything went according to plan. Usually, it all went to shit, but it was great fodder for his songwriting. Camilla agreed, admitting it was difficult to balance the demands of capitalist music with keeping her true voice. Jack produced a neatly typed bit of paper with his song lyrics, as well as a flash drive with a full recording of the song. He'd worked on producing some backing drums and sounds with this fabulous little program, but it didn't seem like there was a computer around. They could listen to the full production later on, he supposed.

Camilla's eyes darted between Jack and the corner of the room, and Jack turned to look. To his surprise, there was a guitar case just sat there, presumably with a guitar inside. That would do it. He nodded in agreement, crossing to the guitar and taking it from the case. It was nothing special, just a standard dreadnought acoustic, and the word Epiphone was written neatly in silver script across the top of the headstock. He lifted it and gave an experimental strum. Whoever had used it last kept it perfectly in tune.

"Right," said Jack, pulling the strap over his head and giving a few more strums. He'd plucked a pick from his pocket, and began to play.

"Something changed at twenty-three. Spent my days moving to and fro. From the bed to the bathroom floor..."He didn't look at Camila, losing himself instead in the words he written, the guitar rhythm lulling him into the strange place he entered when writing and playing. "We're alright. We're alright. It's time to put the world to rights, we're alright, we're alright..." The song went on, and as he struck the last chord, the spell that he'd put on himself shattered. He stood still for a moment, then looked up at Camila. His hand jumped to his hair, mussing it and shifting uncomfortably. "Aye, that's my song," said Jack rather lamely.

camila calderón

[camila calderón]

September 18, 2027

Though the guitar didn't belong to either of them, Camila wasn't going to tell if Jack didn't. He got the guitar from its case, and fortunately it was in good condition. It could have been wrecked and left there because someone had no intention of keeping it, for all Camila knew, so that worked out well for them. Jack then tried out the guitar, found a guitar pick in his pocket, and began to play his song, "Alright", for her.

Hearing the song aloud was different than reading its lyrics on paper, as Camila anticipated. She listened as Jack performed, taking in the words he sang and the sound of the music in combination. It was clear that he had put a lot of effort into it; not in the sense that he was trying too hard, but in the sense that he took his work as a musician seriously without also taking himself too seriously.

Camila made a few mental notes as Jack went on, but she didn't want to distract him or seem rude by taking notes on paper. He was good. The song wasn't exactly her style, but that wasn't a deal-breaker. Departing from her usual sound to gauge her fans' interest wasn't something to which she was opposed; she was a huge Weird Sisters fan herself, and she could hear the more rock-and-roll influences in Jack's work.

Eventually, the song came to an end, and the room was filled with silence. Camila looked over at Jack, and he was looking back at her. "Aye," he told her. "That's my song."

"I like it. It's very good," Camila told him with a smile, not wanting to leave Jack hanging. She knew that he had something to be proud of having put together, but she also knew that it had to be a little scary to put himself in that position. "Do you have others?" Immediately worried that her question made her sound unappreciative of the song he'd just performed in front of her with somebody else's guitar, she added, "For comparison?"

JOHN ELLIOT CLARK