Old Songs, New Voices

Lex lounged in the corner of Jason's studio.

On the other side of the glass, Rose adjusted the oversized headphones, her expression hovering between curiosity and exasperation.

Jason hovered over the console, fingers darting across switches and dials like a mad scientist. "Alright, superstar," he said, flashing a grin at Rose through the glass. "Let's see what you've got."

Rose tapped the mic, her voice coming through the speakers, sharp and amused. "Admit it. This is just an elaborate scheme to make me work for free."

Lex smirked, leaning back. "I'd never make you work for free. We've got contracts for that."

Jason snorted, spinning his chair to face her. "Ignore him. He just likes pretending he's a producer. Now, you ready?"

Rose gave him a pointed look. "I've been ready. You're the one monologuing."

Jason's grin widened as he turned back to Lex. "What are we starting with?"

Lex gestured at the playlist Jason had prepped. "'Heart Made of Stone.' Let's see if it sticks."

Jason cued up the track, and the studio filled with the low, growling bassline of the 1982 hit. Rose tilted her head, listening intently, her arms crossed.

"This sounds like something my mom danced to in college," she said, shooting a smirk toward the booth window.

Jason slid the worn vinyl sleeve across the desk. "Close. Lola Grey, 1982. One-hit wonder. You're about to make it a two-hit wonder."

Rose studied the record for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "Never heard of her."

"Exactly," Lex said, his tone easy. "That's why we're here."

Jason tapped the mic button. "Alright, Cinderella, let's see if the glass slipper fits."

Rose's glare could've cut glass. "Call me that one more time, and you're getting this mic stand upside the head."

Jason laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Miss Russo. My apologies."

Lex chuckled softly. "You're not helping."

Rose shook her head but adjusted the headphones, stepping closer to the mic. The bassline looped again, filling the silence. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the rhythm settle. And then—she sang.

Her voice started soft, threading through the melody like it was testing the waters. But by the chorus, it soared—smooth yet gritty, carrying the raw edge the original track had lacked. It wasn't perfect, but it had teeth.

Jason froze mid-dial, his eyes snapping to Lex. "You serious right now?"

Lex didn't bother hiding the grin tugging at his lips. "Told you. She's the one."

Rose hit the final note, her voice dipping into a raspy growl that hung in the air like smoke. She pulled back slightly, her eyes flicking toward the booth.

"Well?" she asked, the faintest smirk on her face.

Jason ripped off his headphones, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "That's just rude. You didn't tell me she had that in her back pocket."

Rose leaned into the mic, her eyes glinting. "I like to keep expectations low."

Lex pressed the talkback button. "Good. Now do it again. From the top."

Rose's brow lifted. "Pushy."

"Welcome to the music business," Lex replied smoothly.

Jason laughed, already resetting the track. "I'm starting to like this dynamic. It's like watching a weird indie rom-com."

Rose shot him a glare. "And you're the quirky side character who talks too much."

Jason grinned. "Yeah, but I'm the one with the studio."

The second take was sharper, more confident. Rose wasn't just following the track anymore—she was owning it. By the time the final note faded, Jason was already rummaging through another stack of records.

"Alright, next up," Jason said, holding up another sleeve. "'Night Shadows' by The Lunar Vibes. This one's all synths and adrenaline—perfect for the nightclub scene."

Lex raised a brow. "The Benny jump scene?"

Jason nodded eagerly, his grin wide. "Exactly. Pulsing bass, crowd energy, and her voice cutting through like a laser. Benny's gonna lose his mind."

Rose crossed her arms, leaning against the booth wall. "You're seriously making me record a whole album tonight?"

Jason shrugged, dropping the needle on the turntable. "If you keep knocking them out in one take, yeah. At this pace, we'll have the whole thing done by next week."

The first notes of 'Night Shadows' hit, the beat sharp and hypnotic. Rose adjusted her stance, her fingers tapping against her leg as the rhythm built.

Lex watched her closely, noting the way her confidence shifted with the music.

"Alright, Rose," Jason said, his voice softer now. "This one's a little different. You've got range—use it."

She didn't reply, but as the track swelled, she began to sing.

Her voice cut through the pounding bass, weaving between the synths with a precision that made Jason freeze again, his hands hovering over the controls.

Lex smirked. "Still doubting me?"

Jason shook his head slowly. "Not even a little."

By the time the second track ended, Jason spun his chair around, pointing at Lex. "Alright, you win. She's a machine. If you've got more of those collecting dust, I'm ready."

Rose pulled off her headphones, glancing between them with an incredulous expression. "You're both insane, you know that?"

Jason laughed, stacking the vinyl neatly. "You're right. But you're the one making this insanity sound good."

Rose rolled her eyes, but Lex caught the faint smile she tried to hide.

Barnie Maddox built glass towers.

Lex?

He was building a sound that would leave them all standing in the dust.