[EMY]
Take Two went better than the first. Angel's breathing was smoother, but the word "open" still tripped her up every single time.
I scribbled on a paper: Shape the O like awe, and held it up to the window.
Angel nodded. We fixed that word. Then we fixed the line. Then the whole chorus.
Piece by piece — careful, nervous, terrified piece.
We were building a song like Lego bricks, and every brick was polished with panic.
Then came the bridge — the most emotional part, and the hardest. It had a risky run at the end.
Angel's pupils got big like a scared deer that just heard jazz for the first time.
"Don't chase the run," I told her through the mic. "Just land it. Think 3-3-2 steps. No jumping like a hero. Sing the story, not the flex."
She nodded. Took a deep breath. Tried again. She almost nailed it, but the last note wobbled like a baby giraffe learning to stand.
