The next morning came fast. When the group assembled in the studio, Dayo and Maya were already waiting with fresh sheets spread across the table.
Emily raised her brows. "You two didn't sleep, did you?"
Maya only smiled, sliding the pages forward. "We worked on the arrangement. Adjusted some of the weak spots. Just… see for yourself."
They tried it. Emily played the new chords on the piano, humming softly as she tested the tone. Tyrell dropped into a steady beat, Dayo guided the melody on guitar, and Maya slipped in the lines she had polished overnight. Even Frank, after a pause, lifted his trumpet and tested a few notes against the changes.
The sound filled the room—and for the first time, it didn't feel rough. It felt like a real song.
Emily looked stunned. "This… this actually sounds like something."
Tyrell grinned, twirling his drumsticks. "Mad. Real mad."
Even Frank muttered under his breath, arms crossed, "Not bad."
