final.
sound tech“Ready?”
He gives me a quick smile and thumbs up, his eyes closing moments after I hit record.
As always, his right hand comes up and gently caresses the bottom of his black headphones. The backing track starts to play and he taps his feet to the rhythm, head bobbing along.
Three seconds in.
I fiddle with the earphones on my head as well. The two of us listen to the soft strumming of an acoustic guitar as we wait for the first verse to start.
Twenty seconds…
I hear his main vocals, look up, see a soft smile grace his features, then look away just as he peers my way and opens his mouth to sing.
Thirty seconds.
His harmony joins in to compliment his melody. The notes flow freely from his lips, a seemingly effortless falsetto that he achieved after years of practice.
Fifty.
I bring my attention to the program in front of me and watch as the sound waves move up then down, growing wider, then thinner. They move in tandem with the way he adjusts his volume to match the track.
Seventy.
My hands are bright pink, partially due to bad circulation and partially due to the poor heating in the studio. I remain seated though, and bask in the warmth of his voice, a deep baritone liken to that of honey… or melted chocolate.
Ninety seconds.
His eyes are open now, following the lyrics on the music stand. There’s a key change after the second chorus as well as a shift in mood. I noticed him jotting down some notes and highlighting this portion during our first take.
One hundred and thirty seconds in.
The bridge is always a little tricky. He freestyles, adds an extra harmony to his extended belt, trails with some falsetto, and adlibs with a couple runs just because.
One hundred and fifty-five seconds.
He hits a sour note. I lift my hands to grasp the mouse and move until the cursor is hovering above the giant red square on the screen. I look up at him. He’s still singing.
One hundred and eighty seconds.
Not bad. He recovers, but we’ll have to do another take after this one. The song is almost over. He hums, eyelids fluttering shut yet again as the vocal portion comes to a close.
Two hundred.
Before I hit stop, I hear him say my name. That’s not a part of the song. I press the spacebar in surprise and take off my headphones. It appears that Kyungsoo has something to say.
Zero.
I put my headphones back on, hit “m” to unmute my mic and push it towards my lips.
“What?”
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