First Recording

Platinum Sound Studios looked just as Marcus remembered—or would remember, depending on your perspective on time. The wood-paneled walls, the vintage mixing console, and even the faded Marvin Gaye poster watched over the space. In 2003, the studio still used analog tape alongside Pro Tools, a hybrid setup that required a different approach from the fully digital systems Marcus knew from his future.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Jay remarked, adjusting levels on the console. "Never been in a real studio before?"

Marcus shook his head, staying in character. "Just smaller setups. Home studios, you know?"

"This ain't that," Rico Martinez chimed in from the couch. "So, what track are we laying down first?"

Marcus pulled out his notebook, turning to the lyrics for "Time's Arrow." Previously a complex digital production, he'd have to adapt it for the current technology while maintaining its impact. He stepped into the booth, adjusting his headphones as Jay ran a level check.

"Whenever you're ready," Jay's voice came through the monitors.

The beat dropped—a haunting blend of boom bap drums and melodic elements that pushed the boundaries of 2003 hip-hop. Marcus closed his eyes, letting the rhythm wash over him, then opened them with purpose:

"Time flows like arrows through the night

Past and future intertwined so tight

Every move I make echoes twice

Living double lives at a single price

They say history repeats itself

But what if you already lived it yourself?

Knowledge from tomorrow in my mind today

Walking backwards through the words I say

[Chorus]

Time's Arrow piercing through the veil

Writing futures that were once derailed

Every bar I spit carries double weight

Changing destinies before it's too late"

Jay leaned forward, his expression intense. Marcus continued, his flow becoming more complex:

"Sixteen again but my mind's aged

Every rhyme I write feels pre-arranged

Like déjà vu but I know it's real

Future memories that I can't conceal

Building patterns that ain't been built

Stacking rhythms 'til the future's gilt

Mom's still young but I remember gray

This time around I won't make her wait

[Chorus]

Time's Arrow piercing through the veil..."

"Hold up," Jay interrupted, a mix of amazement and confusion in his voice. "Those patterns—where's this coming from?"

Marcus felt Rico's eyes on him, recalling their talk about trust. "Been developing this style for a while," he said carefully. "Trying to push boundaries, you know?"

"Push boundaries? Man, you're breaking them. Let's run it back and tweak the levels."

They spent the next hour fine-tuning "Time's Arrow," with Jay making subtle adjustments that added new dimensions to the track. When they played it back, the sound filled the room with energy that felt both classic and futuristic.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jay nodded. "What else you got?"

Marcus pulled out the lyrics for "Mother's Prayer," his heart racing. This was the most personal track, crafted for this new timeline:

"Young Maria crossed oceans of dreams

Left São Paulo chasing American schemes

Single mother working triple shifts

While her son watches time slip through rifts

[Chorus]

Mãe, I see your sacrifice

Mãe, I'll make it right this time

Every step you take in faith

I'm rewriting all our fates

Working fingers to the bone

So your son won't be alone

In my memories you're old and gray

But now I've got the chance to change your way"

The room fell silent. Rico was the first to speak. "That's not just music, that's truth. The way you mixed Portuguese and English in the chorus? That's gonna hit different."

Jay was already jotting down notes. "We need to structure a deal. This isn't just talent—this is something new. Your approach to these tracks... it's like you see where music's headed."

Marcus caught himself before smiling too knowingly. "I just try to push myself, find new angles."

"Well, keep doing it. Let's get 'Double Vision' recorded, then we need to talk serious business. I've got some people you need to meet."

As they set up for the next track, Marcus watched Jay and Rico in hushed conversation. Everything was moving faster this time, connections forming quickly. He thought about his mother, probably working a late shift, unaware her son was rewriting their future one bar at a time.

He pulled out his phone—a basic Nokia, primitive by future standards—and texted her: "Don't worry about dinner, Mãe. I'll pick something up on the way home."

Then he stepped back into the booth, ready to lay down another track bridging the gap between what was and what could be. In his headphones, Jay cued up the beat, while through the glass, Rico gave him a thumbs up.

Time's arrow only moved forward, but knowledge could flow both ways. And here, in this studio in 2003, Marcus Time's arrow only moved forward, but knowledge could flow both ways. And here, in this studio in 2003, Marcus Johnson was about to show them the future, one bar at a time.

As Jay cued up the beat, the room buzzed with anticipation. Marcus took a deep breath, ready to deliver another track that would bridge the worlds of past and future. Each verse was a testament to his unique perspective, a blend of experience and innovation that resonated deeply with everyone present.

Marcus felt the weight of his journey and the promise of what lay ahead. He was rewriting his story, crafting a legacy not just for himself, but for those he loved. With every bar, he was not just making music—he was shaping destiny.

As the beat dropped, Marcus launched into "Double Vision," a track that encapsulated his duality, his experiences from both timelines colliding in perfect harmony:

"Seeing double but my vision's clear

Navigating through the shadows of my fear

Past mistakes echo in the hallways of my mind

But I'm breaking free, leaving doubt behind

[Chorus]

Double vision, but I'm focused on the prize

Every lesson learned, a new way to rise

Through the fog, I find my light

Turning wrongs into rights, igniting the night"

The energy in the room shifted as Marcus poured his heart into the lyrics, pulling from his experiences and the lessons he had learned across time. Jay nodded along, feeling the rhythm, while Rico leaned forward, hanging on every word.

"Life's a canvas, I'm painting with my pain

Each stroke a memory, every color a refrain

I've danced with demons, faced the darkest nights

But I'm still standing, ready for the fights

[Chorus]

Double vision, but I'm focused on the prize

Every lesson learned, a new way to rise

Through the fog, I find my light

Turning wrongs into rights, igniting the night"

As the track progressed, Marcus could see Jay scribbling notes furiously, his eyes alight with inspiration. Rico's presence felt powerful, grounding, and supportive, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this journey.

"Hold up," Jay interrupted again, enthusiasm spilling over. "This is fire! We need to get this out there. You're not just making music; you're crafting movements."

With renewed energy, they dove back into the process, refining every beat, every bar, every pause. The hours slipped by like minutes as they worked, the chemistry in the room undeniable.

Finally, when the session wrapped up, Jay turned to Marcus, a grin spreading across his face. "This is just the beginning, man. We're onto something big here. Let's get you connected with some heavy hitters."

Marcus felt a rush of hope and excitement. The future was uncertain, but in this moment, surrounded by creativity and ambition, everything felt possible. He glanced at Rico, who was smiling, and knew that together they were forging a new path.

As they packed up, Marcus couldn't help but think about the impact of his music. It wasn't just about the beats or the bars—it was about connection, about telling stories that mattered. He was ready to take the next step, to embrace the journey ahead.

"Let's do this," Marcus said, determination in his voice. "I'm ready."