The only thing that I can see is the single red light on my monitor. I can’t even see the microphone; it’s so dark in here. I tap the button on the desk beside me, I know where it is by touch now, and the instrumental track comes up in my cans.
My foot starts to tap silently on the thick carpet as I start to slip into the music, counting with my body not my mind, and then I begin.
The song slides out of me like smoke at first, trickling softly, quietly towards the microphone, skating across the melody like a bug on the surface of a pond. The verse builds and my voice picks up weight and power; now the vocal is starting to grab hold of the lead part, pulling its way towards the crescendo of the chorus, exploding into the refrain and then I am silent once again.
I take a deep drag on my cigarette as the music winds its way from the bottom of the chorus to the start of the next verse and so I am stepping back into the stream.
I lose all sense of time; letting the song scratch and claw its way out. Done. It’s over.