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When Will ran off to the gym to blow off some steam, Nico rarely felt the need to do the same. But even ten minutes after he’d stormed out, Nico was still clenching and unclenching his fists, unable to focus on something as simple as washing that night’s dishes. He abandoned what was left in the sink and turned to the stairs.
His usually silent studio was filled with quiet muttering and the plucking of strings - he’d forgotten Kayla was ever there. Nico stopped at the bottom of the stairs, finding Kayla seated on the floor in the middle of the room with his bass in her lap, her own notebook open on the ground in front of her. She noticed him after only a few seconds, jumping when she caught him out of the corner of her eye.
“I don’t know why I’m bothering,” she grumbled, leaning back on her hands. “It’s not like I have a band to play this song with.”
“The bass usually isn’t the best for songwriting, either,” Nico pointed out. “Maybe I could help.”
Kayla snorted. “Sure, so the song is yours, and you won’t even have to buy it off of me when it’s done. Will could kill you for that.”
“Will doesn’t have to know everything,” Nico replied, stepping further into the room. “And I wouldn’t steal a song from you. I’ll help you polish it, and you can keep it in your portfolio. Save it for when you’re applying at other studios.”
He had to look away from the hurt that appeared on her face. “You’re giving up on me,” she stated.
“I’m not,” Nico insisted. “I’m still trying to talk some sense into Will. But in the meantime, I can help with this. Let me grab a guitar, and--”
“I can already hear the guitar,” she told him, “and the drums are kind of ba-da bum, ba-da bum, you know? Like, fast.”
Nico stepped toward the kit in the corner. “Like this?” He played her beat in a loop, adding kick and mixing in a steady hi-hat.
Kayla brightened. “Yeah. And then the bass is like--” She threw in a groove, nodding her head and bouncing one knee.
They played out for a few measures before Nico brought them to a close.
“Do you have lyrics?” he asked, nodding to her notebook.
“Yeah, but I--” She winced. “Will wasn’t kidding when he said I can’t sing. I can’t hold a melody to save my life, and I definitely can’t make one up.”
“That’s alright,” Nico told her. “Do you know where everything fits into the beat? Could you talk through it?”
Kayla chewed on her lip. “Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I can do that.” She started playing again, so Nico jumped in with her. After about a measure, Kayla started to speak: “I’m getting sick of waiting all the time. Someone else is in charge of making up my mind. Well, I say I want to be in charge.”
Nico listened closely, not quite catching all of the words, but paying attention to her cadence and inflection. “You have a good ear for where the melody should be,” Nico told her once Kayla had run out of words. “You have these changes in energy and intensity, and these barely noticeable pitch fluctuations - that’s good,” he told her when Kayla started to look like she’d done something wrong. “You know what you want, even if you don’t have the ability to make it up yourself. You’re really good at this, Kayla.”
She beamed at the praise, and Nico forced himself to take a slow, steady breath. He’d just made his own life much harder by giving himself even more reasons to fight for Kayla.
He hoped Will was too exhausted to talk by the time he came home from the gym. Nico could feel another fight coming on.