Chapter 34
Aria’s POV
Julian and I were scheduled to record separately – him in Studio A for vocals while I tackled the piano accompaniment in Studio B. That’s typical for professional recordings; it allows for cleaner tracks and easier mixing later.
One of the assistants led me into the recording space a quiet, softly lit room with soundproofed walls and a beautiful Steinway grand piano waiting at its center.
As I settled in, a thoughtful staff member approached and handed me a folded blanket.
“For your ankles,” she said with a warm smile. “The AC gets pretty cold in here, and
I noticed your dress leaves them exposed p>
I blinked, then smiled, genuinely touched by the gesture.
“Thank you.”I thanked her with a grateful smile. This thoughtfulness was why I enjoyed working with Julian’s team.
Julian’s perfectionism had always impressed me. Most artists would just use digitally synthesized piano tracks – cheaper and faster. But he insisted on having a real pianist, claiming the emotion can’t be replicated. That’s why he’d reached out to me specifically, despite what must have been a considerable addition to his budget.
This wasn’t my first recording session, but nerves still fluttered in my stomach as I positioned myself at the piano. The headphones felt heavy over my ears as the producer’s voice crackled through.
“Whenever you’re ready, Mrs. Carter p>
I closed my eyes, letting my fingers hover over the keys for just a moment before beginning. The first run-through was technically perfect-every note in place, timing impeccable. But as I listened to the playback, something felt missing.
“I’d like to do another take,” I said into the microphone.
The producer looked surprised. “That was flawless. Is there something specific you want to change p>
“It lacks emotion,” I admitted. “The notes are right, but the feeling isn’t there p>
He nodded, respecting my perfectionism. “Whenever you’re ready p>
I settled at the gleaming grand piano, my fingers finding the keys like old friends. The first run-through of the piece went smoothly enough, but something felt off.
“Let me try that again,” I said into the mic, adjusting my posture. “I don’t think I captured the right feeling p>
The producer nodded through the glass. “Whenever you’re ready p>
The second time, I didn’t think about the notes. I thought about everything that had happened the pain, the betrayal, the unexpected turns my life had taken. I poured it all into the music, letting my fingers tell my story. When I finished, the studio was completely silent.
“That was the producer finally said, his voice slightly awed. “That’s definitely the take p>
After confirming the recordings were satisfactory, I made my way to Julian’s recording booth. Through the soundproof glass, I watched him work. Julian Hayes had started his career as a teenage indie sensation nearly fifteen years ago. Unlike many young stars who burned out or faded away, he’d evolved into one of the most respected singer-songwriters in the industry.
Critics loved him for his poetic lyrics and innovative compositions, while fans adored his authentic persona and refusal to compromise his artistic vision for commercial
success.
I’d always appreciated how seriously he took his craft. Despite his success, he still approached every song with the same passion as when he was just starting out.
Julian was completely absorbed in his performance, eyes closed, one hand pressing his headphones closer to his ear as he poured his heart into the microphone. There was something captivating about watching someone so completely in their element. “Pretty impressive, right p>
I jumped slightly, startled by a voice beside me. Mark had appeared with two steaming cups, offering one to me.
“Green tea with honey,” he said. “Julian mentioned it’s your favorite p>
“Thank you,” I said, touched that Julian had remembered such a detail from our previous collaboration.
We stood side by side, watching Julian through the glass as he hit a particularly difficult note with perfect control.
“You know,” Mark said, his voice softening with admiration, “I’ve been with him since his first album. Seven years now. And his passion for the music has never dimmed, not once. Even when critics tore him apart, even when that label dropped him – he just kept creating p>
I nodded, sipping my tea. “That’s what makes him special. You can hear it in every note p>
“There’s something magnetic about someone completely devoted to their craft,” Mark added.
“True,” I agreed. “A man who’s passionate about what he does has a certain… allure p>
About an hour later, Julian emerged from the recording booth, running a hand through his tousled hair. The casual confidence he carried made it easy to see why he had millions of fans worldwide.
“Aria! I heard your tracks – absolutely stunning,” he grinned, dropping into a chair beside me. “You’ve seriously elevated the whole album p>
“Your song was beautiful to begin with,” I replied honestly. “I just added a little decoration p>
Julian checked his watch. “It’s past one. Want to grab some lunch? There’s this amazing little Italian place around the corner p>
“Oh, I I hesitated, thinking of Aiden’s text I still hadn’t answered. “I should probably head back p>
“Come on,” he coaxed with that charming smile. “Just as friends catching up. I promise to have you home before dark p>
“I really can’t today, but rain check?” I offered.
Julian dug into his pocket and pulled out a small rabbit-shaped bag charm. “At least
take this. Saw it at the airport in Tokyo and thought of you p>
I tilted my head. “Thought of me? Why a rabbit p>
“You have that same alert, cautious energy,” he explained, eyes twinkling. “Always looking for the next safe spot to hop to p>
I laughed, accepting the little charm. “Next time I’m in town, lunch is on me p>
“I’m free today,” he teased.
My cheeks warmed. “Julian p>
“I’m kidding!” He raised his hands in surrender, but his eyes still danced with
mischief.I let out a quiet breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
No wonder Mark had warned me that Julian was anything but serious in private.
“You heading out p>
I nodded. “Yeah, I should get going p>
“At least let me walk you down.” Julian offered quickly, ignoring the pointed look Mark shot him from across the room.
He twisted the cap back onto his empty water bottle, then leaned back slightly and flicked it toward the trash can across the room.
It landed inside with a satisfying thunk.
“Relax,” he added, pulling up his mask. “I’ll throw on a hat. No one’s going to recognize me p>
Well, he said it like that-what could I do but thank him?
As we made our way through the building, I couldn’t help but notice a few employees glancing in our direction, whispering behind half-raised hands.
Great. Just I’m going to have gossip again.
Back in my car, my phone pinged with a notification. Julian had already transferred the agreed payment – a very generous $800,000 for just a few hours’ work. Another message followed:
‘Still need a pianist for my new music video. The pay’s excellent, and you’d just need to do what you did today, but on camera. Think about it p>
I typed back a polite refusal. The last thing I wanted right now was more public exposure. My life had been under enough scrutiny since the wedding disaster.
Exhausted but oddly fulfilled, I headed back to Dad’s place. Maybe getting back to work wasn’t such a bad idea after all. For those hours in the studio, I hadn’t thought about Aiden, or Liam, or any of the mess my personal life had become.
My phone chimed as I pulled into the driveway. Curious, I opened the notification. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME??” I groaned out loud.
There I was, trending again. The headline read: “Abandoned Bride Aria Carter Spotted With Superstar Julian Hayes – Revenge Romance p>
Below was a photo of Julian and me, heads close together as he handed me the rabbit charm, his expression warm, mine smiling. The angle made it look far more intimate than the friendly gesture it had been.
What would Aiden think when he saw this?Would he be jealous?