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That vocal track on SoundCloud.

Yes?

The compression on the vocal is sloppy. Attack is too fast. It's crushing the transients on the consonants.

A beat.

I'll tell Alfie.

Don't tell him. Send me the stem.

The bubbles appeared and disappeared for a long moment. I could imagine her smile. That sharp, terrifying, victorious smile.

Sent.

A file popped up in the chat. ForTheEngineer_VOCAL_RAW.wav

I walked over to my desk. The rain was still hammering the windows, but the static in my head had cleared, replaced by the familiar, comforting itch of a problem that needed fixing.

I opened Pro Tools. I dragged the file in.

The waveform appeared. jagged, raw, blue.

I put my headphones back on. I isolated the frequency range where the harshness lived, that burnt-sugar rasp of his voice that was too sharp, too eager.

"I'm not coming back for you," I whispered to the waveform, to the digital ghost of the Alpha who had sung a surrender song to the void. "I'm coming back because the attack time on this compressor is criminal."

I adjusted the ratio. I smoothed the curve. I painted the sound with violet and deep, warm amber until it stopped hurting and started singing.

My phone buzzed with a message from Callie.

Did you text them?

I’m mixing.

Is that code for sex?

It's code for I'm fixing their garbage audio.

So... sex.

I ignored her. I focused on the mix.

Four in. Six out.

I wasn't safe yet. But looking at the session file, looking at the workspace render Euan had built, knowing Cal had metaphorically put the kettle on...

I put the Exit Card on the desk next to my keyboard. It was still there. Valid. Potent.

I could leave anytime.

But for tonight, I had a mix to finish.

And maybe, just maybe, I had a bus to catch.

I saved the file.

ForTheEngineer_Z_Mix_v1.wav