Page 19 of A Daddy for Christmas 3: Matty

Drake - Miami

I walked through the studio with the rest of the band following, searching out Wolf, who was somewhere because the place was open. Finn saw him first, through the window. I pushed the door open, and music filtered out. He was playing something classical on a keyboard. Lord knows, I’m no expert, but it sounded damn good to me. I’d heard Wolf was a musical genius, and this proved it as far as I was concerned.

He stopped playing and looked up. “Oh, hey. Just killing time. I got here early.”

“What was that?” Finn asked, tapping his finger on one of the keys.

“Mm…don’t.” Wolf grabbed his hand, pushing him off. “Just something I wrote. You guys ready to get to work?”

“Wrote? Holy cow. That was brilliant.” Gonzo was probably the most music-abled of us, which was why he always helped write the music. He’d had guitar and piano lessons as a kid and was pretty good at writing sheet music.

“Eh. Thanks. It’s been a work in progress for years.”

“It’s better than what we do.” Tank looked at the keyboard longingly.

“Not really. It’s different. More complex in certain regards, but it’s only one instrument, and I don’t know…not popular.” He closed one eye, cringing a little.

“That depends on how you define popular, doesn’t it?” I was pretty sure some people would love his music as much as ours or even Midnight Hunt’s.

“Well, you’re right, which is why I said it’s different, not better.” He quickly shifted gears after that and got us started on another song. It was an old one of ours, but we were completely deconstructing it. “I’m going to play back what we recorded yesterday, and then we can figure out where to go with it.” He handed us each a printout of a lyrics page and the sheet music as we’d arranged it so far. Then he went into the booth, and after a few seconds, I belted out the words.

You’re more than just a line in a song

I’ve been watching you spin your wheels for so long

What are you running from? What are you running to?

Chasing dreams can be lonely fuel

Even harder to make them real

Lonely Boy

Lonely Boy

Finn held up his hand to get Wolf’s attention. “Stop. Stop.”

“What is it?” Wolf asked.

“Two things.” Finn held his fingers up in a peace sign. “First, based on what we’ve been talking about, we should probably start with the hook. But second…”

“Spit it out, man.” I strapped on a rhythm guitar.

“Second…that’s a shitty hook.”

“What?” I scowled.

“It is. Come on, man. We all know you wrote this for Matty, but like, it’s not great.”

Gonzo plugged in his bass. “Not hard enough, either. Too wishy.”

“Wishy?” What the hell was he talking about?

“Wishy. Washy. Watered down.” Gonzo tilted his hand back and forth.

“If you guys don’t like the song, maybe we scrap it.” I was trying not to take it personally, but they were right. This song was all about Matty. And it was personal. It hurt that they didn’t like it.

Finn flipped me off. “This is why. I mean, you get so protective. I like the song, but it can be better.” Well, I had been afraid that Finn would be the one kicking and screaming to not change our songs, but he hadn’t been. Actually, he was right, especially on this one.