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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Sing that Song
Fandom: Preying Eyes Original Fiction
Pairing: Adrien Lupei/Elliot Deacon
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,005
Summary: Elliot is attempting to help Adrien pick songs for his next album.
Author’s Note: Written for the Say What challenge at 1_million_words. The quote was "Life itself is your teacher, and you are in a state of constant learning." - Bruce Lee. I’m not quite sure this really goes with the prompt, but hey – words, right? Side note: I just discovered my 15-year-old ate everything but the Mr. Goodbars out of the candy dish. Must have a talk with that child. :D
His mother had always told him that mistakes were a good thing, a badge of honor hard won. Adrien, however, wasn’t sure how true that was, especially in his line of work. Of course, he knew the only way to learn something was by screwing it up a couple times, but not everything in life was as forgiving as a meal gone wrong.
The music business was one of those things. You choose the wrong songs for your album, it flops. Even when you choose the right songs, if you release the wrong ones at the wrong time, you won’t make the sales you need to get a next album. It put a tremendous amount of stress onto Adrien’s shoulders since he wrote the majority of the songs he recorded and therefore could not blame anyone but himself if something didn’t do as well as projected.
“I like this one,” Elliot said, tilting his head towards the speakers to hear it better.
Adrien smiled. It was one of the more uptempo things he’d written recently and had a decidedly non-country vibe to it. He wasn’t surprised that Elliot approved. Whether it’d work as a single or not was another story. While music was fluid, people’s tastes often weren’t. Always wanting the artists to be creative and branch out, but never set one toe outside what they considered ‘their genre’. This song crossed out of country and into something else, making it a ticking time bomb of a song.
“Not sure I’m going to keep that one, “ he said, watching Elliot’s face.
“What,” Elliot said, stunned. “Why not? What are you going to do with it?”
Shrugging, Adrien took a drink of his coffee. “Sell it, most likely,” he said. Most of what he recorded for himself peaked somewhere in the top ten, so when he chose not to keep a new song for himself, they always got snapped up pretty quickly. It was a win-win for him, too. Either way, he made money off it. “Not sure it fits what my fans are looking for.”
“In other words,” Elliot said, resituating himself so that he could lean into Adrien’s chest. “Not what they think you should be recording.”
“Maybe,” Adrien admitted. “After a certain point, there comes a time where the two things merge and become one. You don’t see yourself doing x, y, or z because you know that your fans will have a fit.” He shook his head and sighed. “Art is a living, breathing thing, El. Why don’t people understand that it has to change, to evolve, in order to remain?”
“Because humans like comfort,” he said, rubbing a hand along the length of Adrien’s arm. “And there is comfort in predictability. Sounds strange, but it’s true.”
“And if I want to evolve into Austen 2.0? What then?”
Elliot made a face. “You do it at the risk of upsetting people,” he said. “But honestly? You’re going to upset people either way. A large portion of music buyers want things to never change, ever. There’s a reason why those oldies stations are so popular, you know. On the other hand, there’s also that remaining part that is always looking for the next big thing, the newest trend in the business. So, whether you keep rehashing the same song with the same lyrics and chords or breakout and do something new, you’re going to piss someone off in the end.”
Adrien turned his blue eyes on Elliot. “And your advice is?”
“You’re asking me,” he laughed. “I say rock the boat, honey. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Adrien said, tugging at a fold of Elliot’s t-shirt. “But it’s also why I’m asking you. Because I know where you stand. “
“Maybe don’t go full on hair metal for the next album,” Elliot suggested gently, kissing the curve of Adrien’s cheek. “But mix it up. Give your fans a little bit of the old, and some of what you’re striving to be. It’ll ease them into it.”
It was good advice, something he’d even been telling himself, but had been afraid to admit to thinking. What if he misjudged his audience and chose the wrong songs? He figured there was only one way to find out and that was by doing it. His label wasn’t going to drop him if one album flopped, especially not since his others had all gone platinum and his shows regularly sold out.
“Where’s your sense of adventure,” Elliot teased, goading him out of his reverie.
Adrien turned his attention back to the stereo. The song he’d queued up continued to play on repeat. He closed his eyes and listened to the lyrics he’d written one morning after Elliot had departed for work. They’d come so easily, like they’d been there all along, waiting to be wished into existence. This song was all about them and, even though he hadn’t told Elliot that little tidbit, Adrien knew that Elliot was aware on some level that this had been written for him. It’d be a shame for someone else to breathe life into their love, no matter how universal the story.
“Right here,” Adrien laughed, squeezing Elliot’s knee between his fingers. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll do it. I’ll put this song on the next album.”
“Good,” Elliot said, kissing Adrien firmly on the mouth. “Now, what’s the next one on your list of things you’ll never record? Because I’m thinking you need a second opinion, kid.”
Refraining from reminding Elliot that his band and record label acted as second and third opinions, he nodded. “I’ve got a lot of them,” he said. “How much time do you have?”
“I’ve got as much time as you need, Adrien,” Elliot said, grinning. “That goes for all the non-musical questions you might have as well.”
Laughing, Adrien shook his head. “Not sure I have any non-musical questions that need answering,” he teased. “But I do have a few non-musical issues that we can work on.”
“Lead the way, baby.”
Fandom: Preying Eyes Original Fiction
Pairing: Adrien Lupei/Elliot Deacon
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,005
Summary: Elliot is attempting to help Adrien pick songs for his next album.
Author’s Note: Written for the Say What challenge at 1_million_words. The quote was "Life itself is your teacher, and you are in a state of constant learning." - Bruce Lee. I’m not quite sure this really goes with the prompt, but hey – words, right? Side note: I just discovered my 15-year-old ate everything but the Mr. Goodbars out of the candy dish. Must have a talk with that child. :D
His mother had always told him that mistakes were a good thing, a badge of honor hard won. Adrien, however, wasn’t sure how true that was, especially in his line of work. Of course, he knew the only way to learn something was by screwing it up a couple times, but not everything in life was as forgiving as a meal gone wrong.
The music business was one of those things. You choose the wrong songs for your album, it flops. Even when you choose the right songs, if you release the wrong ones at the wrong time, you won’t make the sales you need to get a next album. It put a tremendous amount of stress onto Adrien’s shoulders since he wrote the majority of the songs he recorded and therefore could not blame anyone but himself if something didn’t do as well as projected.
“I like this one,” Elliot said, tilting his head towards the speakers to hear it better.
Adrien smiled. It was one of the more uptempo things he’d written recently and had a decidedly non-country vibe to it. He wasn’t surprised that Elliot approved. Whether it’d work as a single or not was another story. While music was fluid, people’s tastes often weren’t. Always wanting the artists to be creative and branch out, but never set one toe outside what they considered ‘their genre’. This song crossed out of country and into something else, making it a ticking time bomb of a song.
“Not sure I’m going to keep that one, “ he said, watching Elliot’s face.
“What,” Elliot said, stunned. “Why not? What are you going to do with it?”
Shrugging, Adrien took a drink of his coffee. “Sell it, most likely,” he said. Most of what he recorded for himself peaked somewhere in the top ten, so when he chose not to keep a new song for himself, they always got snapped up pretty quickly. It was a win-win for him, too. Either way, he made money off it. “Not sure it fits what my fans are looking for.”
“In other words,” Elliot said, resituating himself so that he could lean into Adrien’s chest. “Not what they think you should be recording.”
“Maybe,” Adrien admitted. “After a certain point, there comes a time where the two things merge and become one. You don’t see yourself doing x, y, or z because you know that your fans will have a fit.” He shook his head and sighed. “Art is a living, breathing thing, El. Why don’t people understand that it has to change, to evolve, in order to remain?”
“Because humans like comfort,” he said, rubbing a hand along the length of Adrien’s arm. “And there is comfort in predictability. Sounds strange, but it’s true.”
“And if I want to evolve into Austen 2.0? What then?”
Elliot made a face. “You do it at the risk of upsetting people,” he said. “But honestly? You’re going to upset people either way. A large portion of music buyers want things to never change, ever. There’s a reason why those oldies stations are so popular, you know. On the other hand, there’s also that remaining part that is always looking for the next big thing, the newest trend in the business. So, whether you keep rehashing the same song with the same lyrics and chords or breakout and do something new, you’re going to piss someone off in the end.”
Adrien turned his blue eyes on Elliot. “And your advice is?”
“You’re asking me,” he laughed. “I say rock the boat, honey. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Adrien said, tugging at a fold of Elliot’s t-shirt. “But it’s also why I’m asking you. Because I know where you stand. “
“Maybe don’t go full on hair metal for the next album,” Elliot suggested gently, kissing the curve of Adrien’s cheek. “But mix it up. Give your fans a little bit of the old, and some of what you’re striving to be. It’ll ease them into it.”
It was good advice, something he’d even been telling himself, but had been afraid to admit to thinking. What if he misjudged his audience and chose the wrong songs? He figured there was only one way to find out and that was by doing it. His label wasn’t going to drop him if one album flopped, especially not since his others had all gone platinum and his shows regularly sold out.
“Where’s your sense of adventure,” Elliot teased, goading him out of his reverie.
Adrien turned his attention back to the stereo. The song he’d queued up continued to play on repeat. He closed his eyes and listened to the lyrics he’d written one morning after Elliot had departed for work. They’d come so easily, like they’d been there all along, waiting to be wished into existence. This song was all about them and, even though he hadn’t told Elliot that little tidbit, Adrien knew that Elliot was aware on some level that this had been written for him. It’d be a shame for someone else to breathe life into their love, no matter how universal the story.
“Right here,” Adrien laughed, squeezing Elliot’s knee between his fingers. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll do it. I’ll put this song on the next album.”
“Good,” Elliot said, kissing Adrien firmly on the mouth. “Now, what’s the next one on your list of things you’ll never record? Because I’m thinking you need a second opinion, kid.”
Refraining from reminding Elliot that his band and record label acted as second and third opinions, he nodded. “I’ve got a lot of them,” he said. “How much time do you have?”
“I’ve got as much time as you need, Adrien,” Elliot said, grinning. “That goes for all the non-musical questions you might have as well.”
Laughing, Adrien shook his head. “Not sure I have any non-musical questions that need answering,” he teased. “But I do have a few non-musical issues that we can work on.”
“Lead the way, baby.”
