As the week of intense training came to an end, the air inside the studio felt heavier than usual. Vocal warm-ups, breath control exercises, and hours of repetition had become part of Anaya's daily routine. Emily, with her soft but firm approach, had worked closely with her. teaching her to open her diaphragm, smoothen her transitions, and soften her naturally strong base tones.
Now, it was time. The day of evaluation had arrived.
Inside the dimly lit recording room, a calm hush fell. The space was padded with soundproof panels, with a large glass wall separating the recording booth from the main room. In the center of the booth stood a single standing mic, polished and still, waiting for the voice it was about to receive. Behind the glass, Jiya and Emily stood side by side, watching Anaya quietly. There were a couple of computers, sliders, and blinking lights, with monitors capturing every decibel, every breath.
Anaya stepped slowly into the recording booth. Her heart thudded against her chest. She reached for the black headphones resting on the stand, slipping them gently over her ears. The sound of silence inside the headphones was overwhelming. Then, Emily pressed a button and played the soft piano intro to test the audio.
She looked at Anaya through the glass and asked, "Is it all okay?"
Anaya gave a slight nod, lifting her hand to form an "OK" sign.
Jiya's sharp gaze didn't miss a single movement. Her arms were crossed tightly as she studied Anaya's posture, her breathing, the way her lips parted.
Then, the piano began. A gentle, slow melody floated into Anaya's ears. She closed her eyes and let the music guide her. Her voice followed a little hesitant at first, then gaining strength. But there was something more in it. Her base tones rose a little too strong, the softness missing at parts. There was passion, but not the tender smoothness the song required.
The final note faded.
A long silence followed.
Then Jiya's voice sliced through the air like a whip.
"What was that voice, Annie?"
Anaya flinched.
Jiya's eyes snapped to Emily. "And you, Emily? Didn't I tell you to teach her properly? What have you been doing this entire week? Her base is heavier than before! The song was a smooth melody, not a power ballad. This... this is not how things are done!"
Emily opened her mouth to explain, but Jiya cut her off, her voice rising with fury.
"You even let her eat drigged sweets behind my back! Don't think I wouldn't notice. I gave you a chance to prove yourself, to change. But instead, you've grown bolder, more careless. You defy my instructions, betray the discipline of this studio."
Emily's eyes welled up slightly, but she stood still, lips trembling.
"I thought you were worth one last chance," Jiya said coldly, "but I was wrong. There's no place for you here. Go. Resign. I don't want to see your face again."
Emily tried to speak again, maybe to apologize, maybe to defend herself, but Jiya turned her face away.
"Get lost," she snapped. "And never appear in front of me again."
With slow, defeated steps, Emily turned and walked out of the room. Her footsteps were soft, but each one echoed painfully in Anaya's ears.
Anaya's heart was racing. She moved toward Jiya, unsure, confused.
"Sister… what happened?" she asked gently.
Jiya didn't even look at her.
"Nothing," she said coldly, eyes still fixed on the empty booth. "Just filtering the waste."
Anaya whispered, "Oh…"
(Maybe I've done something wrong… if not, why would Sister argue with Emily like that…?) Anaya thought to herself, guilt settling in her chest like a heavy stone.
Jiya, noticing her troubled expression, quickly spoke up.
"Don't worry, Annie," she said with a composed smile.
Jiya continued, " Emily had done some dirty things to some artists."
But behind that smile, her thoughts were cold and sharp.
"Finally got rid of her. If I hadn't swapped the sweets, maybe Anaya's voice would've been ruined. I can't risk anyone sabotaging her now."
Anaya hesitated before whispering again, "Sister… then why didn't you send her to the police?"
Jiya paused, then sighed. "I thought of it. Believe me, I really did. But once upon a time… she was my best friend. We started together, dreamed together."
Jiya continued, "But something changed. She grew jealous, started trying to ruin the careers of fresh artists. We suffered losses last time because of her sabotage. I gave her one last chance to prove herself but she didn't change. So I had to let her go."
She then gently placed a hand on Anaya's shoulder. "Because of those sweets, your throat got slightly hoarse. But it's okay. With proper care and training, you'll be fine in a week."
That week passed with a renewed focus on health and vocal refinement. Anaya stayed away from sweets, followed a strict vocal routine, and stuck to warm teas and honeyed water. Emily's absence lingered quietly in the air, but Anaya didn't ask about her again.
In those seven days, she also worked on composing the background music for her new song. a soft blend of piano and violin. The melody slowly took shape, as delicate as morning mist.
Finally, the day arrived to record again.
Inside the studio, the atmosphere was calm and expectant. The piano and violin played in the background, soft and slow like a lullaby. Anaya stood in the booth, eyes closed, letting the emotions guide her voice.
When she finished, the room fell silent for a moment.
The director looked at Jiya, stunned.
"That was… incredible," he whispered.
Jiya nodded slowly, eyes still on Anaya. "Something's missing, though…"
She turned to the director. "Director… don't you think this deserves a music video? Something slow-motion… dreamy and delicate, just like her voice."
The director's eyes lit up. "Yes! I was just thinking the same. Her tone, it has something ethereal. The world should see this."
Later, as Jiya and Anaya sat in the car on their way home, Jiya brought up the idea.
"Annie," she said, her voice light, "how about we do an MV for this song?"
Anaya fell silent.
Seconds passed.
Then she replied softly, "Sister… I don't want to."
Jiya blinked. "Why?"
Anaya's voice was barely a whisper. "Because… it's personal."
"Personal?" Jiya frowned. "Don't make me angry. If you're afraid of the camera, I'll fix that. Just be honest."
Anaya shook her head. "No, Sister…"
Jiya's voice sharpened. "Am I being too soft on you? I'm asking, why don't you want to show your face?"
Anaya took a breath, eyes lowered. "Please don't be angry. It's just… I don't want my face on TV. It's not just the camera, I'm afraid of being seen. If you really want to make the MV… you can. Just… don't show my face."
Jiya stared at her for a moment, then her expression softened. "Oh… that's all? Why didn't you just say so earlier? We can work with that."
She paused, then looked at Anaya again with a curious expression. "But Annie… I've had a question for a while. Why are you so passionate about this song if you don't want to enter the music industry?"
Without hesitation, Anaya blurted, "For my boyfr—"
She stopped mid-word as the traffic light turned red and the car came to a slow halt.
Jiya turned sharply. "What was that? For a boyfriend?"
Anaya looked startled, her voice trembling. "Sister… I didn't mean it like that…"
Jiya smirked. "Oh really? Then who is he?"
Anaya hesitated, then stumbled over her words. "Sister… no… I mean… it's complicated…"
After a long pause filled with confusion and tension, she finally sighed. "Okay. He's someone I've admired for a long time. The song… it was inspired by him. I was really moody and hurt back then… do you remember the boy at the airport?"
Jiya's brows lifted. "That one? Wasn't his name… something.. yeah!.. Vicky?"
" So, he is your boyfriend..." Jiya teased.
Anaya shook her head. "No. Not him... be is not my boyfriend."
She lowered her eyes, voice becoming soft. "he is someone from college. I didn't have male friends, but he used to study with me sometimes. He was kind in small ways… and I thought maybe he liked me. So I began to like him back. I planned to confess… on his birthday. I even wrote him a letter and asked him to meet me in the library. But he never came. Later that day evening, I saw him… proposing to one of my friends in the playground."
Her voice cracked slightly. "It broke me. I promised myself I wouldn't fall for guys like that again. Then… I started admiring a singer. It felt safe. Distant. But slowly… that admiration turned into something deeper."
Jiya's eyes welled up. "Annie… that must've hurt. I'm sorry…"
She gently touched Anaya's hand. "Who's the singer, then? Is he here in India?"
Anaya looked out the window. "Sister… the light turned green."
Jiya smiled faintly and started driving again, the car moving gently along the road.
A minute later, Anaya spoke. "What if I told you… he's not Indian at all? What would you say?"
Jiya raised an eyebrow. "What can I say? Even if I object, would you listen?"
Anaya giggled softly. "Sisterrr…"
Jiya laughed. "Fine, fine. Whoever he is, I'll support you. But if something goes wrong, promise me you'll talk to me."
Anaya smiled. "Okay. I promise."
And with that, they reached home but tired, a little vulnerable, but somehow a little closer than before.