Chapter 5

Entering the standalone building with Taylor, the first thing that caught the eye was a wall of album covers.

Ryan immediately spotted many well-known artists at first glance: John Mayer, Dolly Parton, Beck, Rush Band, Sheryl Crow, Keith Urban, King Leon, Tim McGraw and Faith Hill, Blake Shelton—and this was just a small portion of the entire cover wall.

"Blackbird has nine studios, each with completely different functions and features." Seeming in a good mood, Taylor acted like a tour guide, proactively introducing things to Ryan.

And Ryan did feel like he was sightseeing. Passing Studio C, he saw the room's walls covered densely with long wooden rods. Taylor said the entire room held a full 130,000 long wooden strips, each of a different length.

"I heard it was designed based on acoustic diffusion algorithms—all for pursuing a better immersive mixing and playback environment." Taylor only had a partial understanding of it herself.

The largest studio, Studio A, housed the Neve 8078 console originally custom-made for Motown Los Angeles, while Studio B contained a series of "collector's grade" microphones.

"Here we are. The person you're looking for is inside." Taylor pushed open the thick door of Studio D.

Following her in, Ryan immediately saw the extravagant North America's largest 96-channel API Legacy mixing console. As for the rest of the equipment, Ryan couldn't name them.

Inside the studio, besides Taylor, there were only three staff members. Then Taylor walked up, exchanged a few words with a bald red-haired man, and came back.

"You'll have to wait a while. There's a section I need to re-record." Taylor pointed behind Ryan: "The Private Lounge is over there."

"Maybe I could sit in the back." Ryan had no interest in the lounge but wanted to see how recording work was done.

Taylor refused him: "I've already made an exception to bring you in. For the sake of new song confidentiality, you can't sit in."

So Ryan had no choice but to enter the Private Lounge. The walls here were all covered in velvet, with dark walnut flooring. Several lamps had their angles and brightness professionally adjusted, giving a relaxing and comfortable feel. A girl sat on the vintage brown leather sofa, head down playing on her phone. Hearing Ryan come in, she looked up.

The two introduced themselves. The girl was a bit shorter than Taylor, with long curly hair in a coppery red shade darker than Taylor's. Her name was Abigail, and she was Taylor's friend.

"You only met Taylor yesterday, and today you're already here to accompany her recording? Wow, you two's relationship is progressing pretty fast." Abigail's expression was like she'd discovered something huge.

"I wanted to give a demo of a song to her producer." Ryan explained why he was here.

The two started chatting idly. Ryan learned that Abigail not only knew Trey but had also appeared in Taylor's last music video. Even the song Taylor was recording today had Abigail's name in it.

"Taylor said today was a memorable day, so I had to come." Abigail shrugged. Then she talked about how they met—after Taylor transferred from Pennsylvania to a high school in Nashville, she and Abigail became desk mates and quickly became friends who talked about everything.

That friendship had lasted until now, with Taylor using it as inspiration for songwriting.

"That's just how she is—she writes everything, big or small, into songs. That's her creative method." Abigail said.

Ryan deeply agreed with that statement.

Then she proactively asked Ryan: "So, what's your creative inspiration?"

"What?"

"The songs you make."

"Well... an ambulance."

The other party clearly didn't quite understand. Just then, the lounge door opened.

Taylor practically bounced over to Abigail's side, excitement written all over her face, brimming with girlish energy—completely impossible to connect with the her from yesterday afternoon.

But when she noticed Ryan, her expression instantly darkened, and she shot him a fierce glare. She sure held a grudge.

"You should hear this new version clip." Taylor said to Abigail. This time, Ryan was also lucky enough to listen in.

Ryan walked out of the lounge with the two. The studio still had the same three staff members: producer Nathan Chapman, the recording engineer, and a recording engineer assistant adjusting equipment.

At Taylor's signal, the bespectacled recording engineer assistant started playing a clip of the song.

"You take a deep breath and walk through the school doors, It's the first day of class. You say hi to friends you haven't seen in a while, Try not to get in anyone's way."

"When you're fifteen, and someone says they love you, You believe it's true. When you're fifteen, You feel like there's nothing to question."

"Sitting next to red-haired Abigail, Soon you become best friends, Laughing together at those girls Who think they're so cool."

"That first kiss at fifteen, Makes your head spin, But later in life, there are things Better than dating a football team boy— Though I didn't know that at fifteen..."

"Looking back, I once swore I'd marry him someday—"

But I discovered I still had big dreams, Abigail gave everything she had To a boy who changed his mind, And we all cried..."

As the clips finished playing, Abigail, having embodied the song's character, seemed visibly moved. She hugged Taylor deeply. Producer Nathan Chapman offered encouragement:

"The emotions in this song are rich and sincere—it captures the mindset of a teenage girl. But the melody falls a bit short; some parts might need revision."

"What's the song called?" Abigail couldn't help asking.

"Fifteen," Taylor replied.

Going by the timeline, Taylor was a bit older than fifteen when she wrote this song, but she was sharp enough and had guidance from professionals. After moving to Nashville, every Tuesday afternoon Taylor held two-hour writing sessions with songwriter Liz Rose. Seven songs on Taylor's debut album were co-written by the two of them.

Even Rui had to admit—setting aside her fickle nature—the lyrics of this song were written right on the pulse of a girl's heart.

But the problem was, this time she wasn't exposing an ex-boyfriend; she was exposing her own friend. Was that really okay?

The thought made him shake his head again, unconsciously, which Taylor caught.

"You don't think this song is good? Not as good as what you write?" Taylor's tone was hostile.

"How could that be? After hearing your song, I finally understand why I got eliminated. Compared to Fifteen, my earlier Fire and Rain was so hollow and monotonous. And I can truly feel your care for your friend—you even wrote her first experience into a song, letting fans worldwide remember it forever. That friendship is truly amazing." Rui smiled.

But Taylor had thick skin. She breezily replied, "Thanks for your concern, but Abigail already agreed. Right, dear?"

Abigail saw Taylor's expectant gaze. She wanted to say something, but in the end only nodded with an awkward expression.

"She's just too embarrassed to say no. Can't you see that?" Rui said.

"Do you know her? What gives you the right to decide for her?" Taylor shot back.

They started bickering. Abigail watched this young man speaking up for her, and for a moment, something stirred inside her. The next second, she spoke up on her own: "Um... the lyrics are fine. I can accept it."

With the person herself saying that, Rui had nothing left to argue. He simply pulled out a USB drive.

"Oh, by the way, there might be another song on site that's just as good as Fifteen." The victorious Taylor smirked, not missing any chance to needle Rui.

"So you're the football team boy in that song?" The photographer's assistant noticed Rui's build and joked, taking the USB drive.

As the demo began playing, what came out first wasn't a catchy melody, but a continuous low-frequency noise wave.

The recording assistant initially thought the sound system was broken. In reality, Rui, unfamiliar with the equipment, had left an instrument track lingering on the audio channel.

Only after ten seconds did the song enter its intro.

By then, the producer, the recording engineer, and even Taylor were all busy packing up. Today's recording session was over.

The music kept playing, moving into the bridge, a short build-up, until the most important part—the climax!

At that point, producer Nathan finally reacted—but only to tell the recording assistant to turn the volume down. The remaining engineer and Taylor didn't even lift their heads.

Until the short demo finished playing.

"Where's the vocal? All I heard was overly heavy drumming. It's not my ears, is it? You didn't forget to record it, did you? Nashville Star top twelve contestant." Taylor's face was smug. That wasn't a compliment—Nashville Star only had twelve contestants total.

"I think it's pretty good. It's got a beat that makes you want to bob your head." Abigail took the initiative to smile at Rui, even encouraging him: "It's impressive to reach this level on your first try at production."

"What's so great about it? It's just noisy," Taylor muttered.

"Even though it's still a rough draft, I can already hear the main lead. It's clearly electronic music, and it sounds fantastic! I agree with Abigail—reaching this level on your first try is amazing. You could totally try becoming a professional DJ!" Producer Nathan Chapman smiled.

This wasn't flattery. Nathan had no reason to flatter Rui. It was his honest opinion.

Taylor's eyebrows instantly turned into an inverted V. Hearing someone praise Rui hurt more than hearing someone insult her.

And it was her own producer, no less. He hadn't even praised her song like that!

"No way, it can't compare to Taylor's song. I just came up with it on a whim last night." Rui grinned sheepishly, subtly praising himself.

Others didn't know the truth, but Taylor knew Rui wasn't lying. Her face couldn't quite hold up. For the first time, her proud heart wavered—a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time.