MidReal Story
Melody of Success
Scenario: I created a hit song.
Create my version of this story
Emily Carter
songwriter, friends with bandmates, short with curly brown hair, creative and passionate
Alex Turner
lead singer of the band, collaborator with Emily, tall with piercing blue eyes, charismatic and ambitious
Lisa Nguyen
band manager, works closely with Emily and Alex, sleek black hair, organized and pragmatic
I wrote a hit song.
I didn’t know it at the time, of course.
If I had, I would have taken a moment to appreciate the fact that I was about to change my life forever.
Instead, I was too busy trying not to cry.
I’d been sitting in my bedroom for hours, staring at the blank page in front of me, and now that I’d finally written something, the words were making my throat close up.
I took a deep breath and started to play the song again on my guitar.
The melody was simple, but it was the lyrics that got me.
They were so raw and honest that they felt like they were tearing me apart from the inside out.
I’d never written anything like this before, and I wasn’t sure if I ever would again.
It was like the song had been living inside of me for years, just waiting for the right moment to come out.
And now that it had, I wasn’t sure what to do with it.
My fingers were trembling, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d been playing for so long or because of the emotions that were still swirling around inside me.
When I closed my eyes, all I could see was the memories of the past, and all I could hear was the sound of my own heart breaking.
It was like the song had unlocked something inside of me that I hadn’t even realized was there, and now I didn’t know how to put it back.
My bedroom door creaked open, and I looked up to see Lisa standing in the doorway.
“Are you okay?”
she asked, her dark eyes filled with concern.
I nodded, but I knew that I wasn’t.
I wasn’t sure when I would be again.
I watched as Lisa came over and sat down next to me on the bed, her sleek black hair falling in waves around her shoulders.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
she asked gently.
I shook my head and gave her a small smile.
“I’m just… It’s just a song.”
Lisa raised an eyebrow at me.
I knew she was right.
It wasn’t just a song.
It was so much more than that, and I had known it from the moment I’d finished writing it.
But I also knew that now wasn’t the time to talk about it.
Now was the time to record it.
The studio is dead silent when we walk in.
Alex is usually the first one to break the silence, but today he’s too stunned to speak.
I can see the questions in his eyes as he looks around at the soundproof walls and rows of microphones.
Lisa gives him a reassuring smile as she takes out her laptop and starts to set up her notes on the recording equipment.
“Don’t worry,” she says.
“You’re going to do great.”
Alex nods, but I can tell he’s still nervous.
We all are.
This is the first time we’ve been in a real recording studio, and everything feels different here.
I sit down on one of the chairs in front of the microphones and pick up my guitar, my fingers running over the strings absentmindedly as I wait for Lisa to finish setting everything up.
The song I wrote earlier is still fresh in my mind, and I can’t help but wonder what it will sound like once we play it here for the first time.
I’m excited to find out, but also scared.
This song feels different from anything I’ve written before, and I’m not sure how the others will react to it.
When Lisa gives us the signal, we all put our headphones on and start to play, following the notes she’s written down for us on the screen in front of us.
At first, I’m too focused on trying to get the chords right to think about what I’m singing, but after a few minutes, I start to get lost in the music and the lyrics, like I did earlier in my bedroom.
I still can’t shake the feeling that this song is something special, though.
It’s not like anything I’ve ever written before, a slow-burning ballad with lyrics that are so raw and emotional they feel like they’re tearing me apart as I sing them.
I don’t know where they came from or why they’re coming out now, but I know they’re important.
And I know they need to be heard.
After we finish recording, Lisa gives us all a few minutes to rest before we listen back to the song she’s just mixed together for us.
Alex looks at me nervously as he sits down next to me in one of the chairs by the soundboard, his piercing blue eyes darting back and forth between Lisa and me as he waits for her to press play.
“Are you ready?”
he asks me quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
I nod, my eyes never leaving Lisa’s as she reaches over and hits the play button on the screen in front of her.
The music fills the room around us, and my heart starts to race as I listen to the words coming out of my own mouth.
I know that they’re good, but I don’t know if they’re good enough.
I don’t know if they’ll be enough to make us famous.
But as we listen, a sense of calm starts to settle over me.
It doesn’t matter if this song becomes a hit or not.
It doesn’t matter if we make it big or if we have to keep playing in bars for the rest of our lives.
All that matters is that this is something we made together.
Something we can be proud of.
“What do you think?”
I ask Alex after it’s over.
He looks at me for a long moment before he answers.
“It’s amazing, Em,” he says quietly.
“Of course it is.”
I know he’s right.
I just need to remember that.
I played the song over and over again until my fingers were sore before I finally mustered up the courage to call Alex.
He was always the one I turned to when I needed an honest opinion about my music, and as I listened to his phone ring on the other end of the line, my stomach was in knots.
I was half-hoping he wouldn’t answer so I wouldn’t have to go through with this, but he picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Em, what’s up?”
His voice was warm and familiar, instantly calming my nerves.
“Hey, Alex,” I said quickly.
“I know you’re probably busy, but I really need you to come over.
I’ve written something… something different.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Alex responded.
“Sure thing, Em,” he said.
“I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
He hung up before I could say anything else, but I knew that was just how he was – short and to the point, especially when it came to his music.
But his willingness to drop everything and rush over only added to my anxiety.
Twenty minutes later, there was a frantic knock on my door, and I rushed to open it, almost tripping over myself in the process.
Alex stood there looking slightly disheveled and out of breath, a vision in his leather jacket and worn-out Converse.
His sunglasses were perched atop his head as always, and the blue in his eyes seemed to almost glow in the dim light.
Despite the casualness of his outfit and the fact that we had known each other for years, he still managed to make me feel self-conscious.
“Hey, Em,” he said with a grin that would have calmed my racing heart under different circumstances.
“What’s the emergency?”
He stepped inside and kicked off his shoes before I could answer.
But before I could respond, he noticed the guitar sitting on my bed, its strings still humming with the melody from my new song.
His expression shifted from curiosity to realization, and for a moment he was silent as he took it all in.
I could see the exact moment it hit him – the lyrics, the melody – and I waited with bated breath for his response.
“Is this…?”
he started, but I cut him off before he could say anything else.
I nodded, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
I wasn’t exactly sure what I was hoping for, but I knew that I needed his approval.
And as I watched him take in the words I had written, I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the world as I knew it to change.
This song was special; I could feel it in my bones.
And as Alex and I exchanged that silent, knowing glance, I knew that he felt it too.
I’m not sure how long we stood there in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we listened to the song play over and over again.
I couldn’t read the expression on Alex’s face, but the longer we stood there, the more uncertain I became.
Was it possible that I had been wrong?
That this song wasn’t as good as I thought it was?
Suddenly, it felt like the walls were closing in around me, and I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“What do you think?”
I watched as Alex’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise at the sound of my voice.
His eyes snapped up to meet mine, and for a moment he seemed at a loss for words.
“It’s amazing, Em,” he said at last.
“I can’t believe you wrote this.”
The words were like music to my ears, and the knot of anxiety that had settled in the pit of my stomach slowly began to unravel.
“You really think so?”
I asked, trying to keep the doubt out of my voice.
“It’s great,” Alex said confidently.
“It’s… well, it’s kind of different for you.”
My heart jumped at the way Alex’s voice trailed off, and I felt myself holding my breath as I waited for him to continue.
But instead of saying anything else, he just stood there staring at me with an expression that made me feel like he was seeing me for the first time.
“I’m sure it will be a hit,” he said finally after a long moment.
“Just like everything else you’ve written.”
I couldn't seem to take my eyes off of him, watching his every move with bated breath as he finally reached for my guitar and pressed play on my laptop, staring at the screen intently.
For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears, and I found myself holding my breath as Alex listened to the song I had written for him.
He looked confused at first, his brow furrowed in concentration as if he couldn't quite figure out what to make of it.
But slowly, something changed.
He sat down on my bed, still staring at the screen, and after a long moment, his eyes widened in shock.
I watched as he sat up straighter, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to find the right words to say.
Then, without warning, he reached for his guitar and took a deep breath before playing the first few notes of my melody.
It took me a moment to realize what he was doing, but as soon as it clicked, my heart started to race out of control.
My hands clenched at my sides, and it took everything in me not to scream or break down into sobs then and there.
I watched him as the realization washed over him, as the notes poured out of him, slow and sweet like honey, filling my room with the sound of his voice.
It was like magic, the way the song seemed to come alive the moment his voice touched it, the way it went from just another piece of music to something special, something rare and irreplaceable, in a matter of seconds.
And all at once, it felt like everything was falling into place, like this song was meant to be his all along, that it was always supposed to be his, that it was written for him and only him, from the very beginning.
And maybe in some way it was – after all, it wasn't just any song, but a confession that had been hiding in plain sight, wrapped up in metaphor and melody, waiting for the right person to find it and decode its message.
I found myself thinking of all the moments we'd shared together – all of the songs we'd written, all of the nights we'd spent together talking and laughing, all of the times we'd held each other close when things got tough – and suddenly I couldn't seem to stop myself from wondering just what it was that Alex saw when he looked at me, what it was that made me different from all the other girls he knew.
