Chapter 44: The Ghost Circle
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Michael was in his professional studio. The anxiety about Ethereum was still there, a constant hum in the back of his head, but work kept him sane.
The release of 'Life Is Beautiful' had been a resounding success in the System, giving him a massive amount of Impact Points. His balance now exceeded 80,000 IP.
He was just two songs away from reaching the 10-song Milestone, which would unlock the Roulette for 25,000 IP. The reward was within reach.
It was time for song number nine. The plan he had drawn up weeks ago remained solid. It was time to close the thematic circle.
He summoned the System interface and opened the guide for 'Ghost Girl'.
The guide was simple, almost identical in structure to 'Star Shopping'. It asked for a melancholic guitar melody and a simple trap beat.
Michael smiled. This was his territory.
He sat in front of his MacBook Pro, with his Squier Stratocaster in his lap. He opened a new project in Ableton.
This time, there were no hours of frustration. There was no painful learning curve. Now he got it right the first time.
Instead of fighting with the MIDI guide, he simply listened to the reference melody once. Then, he hit record in Ableton.
He plugged his guitar into the Apollo interface. His fingers, now covered in calluses, moved with practiced confidence over the fretboard.
He played the guitar melody himself. Clean. Precise.
Then, he remembered his trick. He smiled. He turned the tuning peg of the G string, just a little, detuning it slightly.
He recorded again. And there it was. That "broken", dreamy, and melancholic sound that had become his signature.
He put down the guitar. He turned to his MIDI keyboard.
It was time to build the beat. His fingers flew over the keyboard, using shortcuts that were already second nature to him. Cmd+D to duplicate a clip. Shift+Cmd+T to create a new audio track.
He didn't have to search for samples for hours. He already had his personal library. He dragged in his favorite lo-fi kick. He programmed the snare to hit on beats 2 and 4, and then added the hi-hats.
This time, he programmed the hi-hats with a speed and complexity he didn't have before, creating those fast triplets that defined the genre.
Finally, the 808. He programmed the bass line, making sure it fit perfectly with the detuned guitar.
In less than two hours, he had a finished instrumental base.
He leaned back and listened to it on a loop. It was perfect. It sounded professional, but kept that "homemade" rawness.
He got up from the chair. What used to take him weeks of pain and learning ('Star Shopping'), he now did in a single afternoon.
He stretched and went to his closet-booth. The beat was ready. It was time to record the vocals.
Michael got into his recording booth. The closet smelled of new wood and acoustic foam. He put the 'Ghost Girl' beat on loop, the ghostly guitar melody filling his Sennheiser headphones.
There was no emotional block.
He knew exactly what vibe this song needed. It wasn't the raw pain of 'Star Shopping' nor the rage of 'crybaby'. It was melancholic loneliness, resignation. It was his comfort zone.
He pressed the record key. He approached the Neumann.
'Juggin' on a Friday, but just saw you on the freeway (Skrrt)...'
His voice came out smooth, tuned, already processed in his head with just the right amount of Auto-Tune and reverb. It was a professional voice.
'How could I forget that face? I don't even know your name...'
He thought of all the anonymous faces at school, at parties. A sea of people who knew him as "Michael Demiurge", but had no idea who Michael Gray was.
'I'm in love with a ghost girl, all alone in a lonely world...'
The line made him smile. 'Ghost Boy' and 'Ghost Girl'. It was the perfect closing of the circle. Him, a ghost, singing to his audience of ghosts, to Chloe, to everyone who felt invisible.
'I just really wanna find her, I'ma do another line first...'
Escapism. Weed, beer, work. Anything to avoid the silence. He sang the line with weary honesty, the admission of a flaw.
He didn't need days to record his vocals. The song flowed. He did the next take for the verse, his voice becoming a bit more rhythmic, more arrogant.
'Lyin' on the asphalt, Mike blacked out...'
He remembered the fatigue of his days at the Burger Barn, the exhaustion of his double life.
'Fuckin' with the Coke Wave, let my man Max out...'
'I be on some real shit, get it from my OG...'
His "OG" was his memory of the future. His secret.
'I don't wanna hear shit, shawty, what you told me?...'
'I don't give a fuck, bitch, I be on my lonely...'
This was the truth. He sang it with cold and absolute conviction.
'Lookin' for the right girl, why you all up on me?...'
He thought of the superficial fame of 'White Iverson'. Of the girls who approached him at parties for the wrong reasons.
'Love me for a night, girl, hate me in the mornin'...'
A fleeting thought of Clara, the girl from the party. An encounter without consequences.
'Yeah, I know you're tight, girl, so I make her blow me...'
'Michael Demiurge...'
He sang the raw lyrics with professional detachment. It was part of the song, part of the character he was building.
He needed a different sound for the bridge. He recorded the main line, and then recorded the repetitions on a separate track, lowering their volume so they sounded like ghostly echoes.
'Look me in my eyes, girl (Look me in my eyes, girl)...'
'Tell me if you think that it's a lie, girl (Lie, girl)...'
It was a direct challenge to his audience. 'Can you see how messed up I am? Or do you think it's just an act?'
'Gettin' tired of your girl (Gettin' tired of your girl)...'
'I know I need my own girl, my girl (My girl)...'
The "own girl". His tribe. Chloe, Victor, Leo, Sam, Nate.
He re-recorded the final chorus, this time with more energy, layering his voice, creating a bigger and fuller sound for the song's climax.
'Juggin' on a Friday, but just saw you on the freeway...'
'I'm in love with a ghost girl, all alone in a lonely world...'
'I just really wanna find her, I'ma do another line first...'
Now he got it right the first time.
He had all the vocal takes he needed in less than an hour. They were clean, tuned, and charged with the right emotion.
He stepped out of the booth. The vocal work was done. It was time to mix.
Michael stepped out of the recording booth. The vocal takes were ready. The process, which would have taken him days of agony before, had been completed in less than an hour.
He sat in his Herman Miller chair. Now he was in engineer mode. It was time to put the puzzle together.
He started editing the song. It was no longer a guessing game; it was a methodical process.
First, the vocals. His new Neumann microphone was incredibly sensitive. It sounded great, but captured every little noise. He spent twenty minutes cleaning the track: cutting mouth clicks, silencing the sound of his breathing between phrases.
Then, the atmosphere. He added subtle reverb, not as much as in 'Ghost Boy', just enough for the voice to float. He added a slight delay (echo) that bounced in the silences, creating that "ghostly" feeling.
Then, he focused on the most important part: the mix.
He dragged all the tracks: the "detuned" guitar, the lo-fi beat, and the vocals. He hit play. It sounded good, but it wasn't "glued" yet.
He spent an hour just on the 808.
He wanted it to be felt, but not overpower the guitar. He used an equalizer to cut the high frequencies of the bass, making it sound deeper and smoother. Then, he used the sidechaining trick with the kick, so each kick hit had its own space.
Finally, he did something he had learned watching a Travis Scott production tutorial. He created a "bus" (group) track for all the vocals, including the bridge echoes. He added a touch of tape saturation, just to give the vocals a warm and cohesive texture.
In a single afternoon of focused work, the song was completely finished and mastered.
What used to take him a week of agony and doubt, he now did in a few hours.
He leaned back and listened to the final product. The melancholic guitar, the simple beat, and his voice, sounding both present and distant. It was the perfect sequel to 'Ghost Boy'.
He was proud. He was satisfied. And he knew he was ready for the next step.
Michael leaned back in his Herman Miller chair. The song was finished.
ghost_girl_final_mix.mp3.
He had created it in a single afternoon, from the beat to the final mix. What used to take him weeks of pain and learning ('Star Shopping'), he now did in a few hours. His workflow was fast, secure. He was a professional.
He didn't wait. He knew this was the next move.
He uploaded the song to SoundCloud and YouTube. The cover was a simple image, a black and white photo he had taken of the empty hallway in his rented house.
He went to Twitter, Instagram, and snapchat. His followers had grown exponentially since the 'Paris' hype. Anticipation for his next move was high. His tweet was simple and closed the circle that had begun months ago.
"Started with a ghost. Let's close the circle. 'GHOST GIRL'. (link)"
He pressed "Send".
The reactions were immediate. His original fans, those from the 'Ghost Boy' and 'Star Shopping' era, flooded his mentions.
"YES! I KNEW THERE WOULD BE A SEQUEL!" "The 'Ghost Boy' has his 'Ghost Girl'. It's perfect." "Same guitar vibe as Star Shopping. I love it."
It was an easy win. He had given them exactly what they wanted.
Michael watched the "like" and "repost" numbers climb. But he wasn't looking at SoundCloud. He was looking at the System interface.
He saw his Impact Points balance start to rise.
+100... +100... +100...
The song was a magnet for "Soul Connections" from his original fans. Every person who had connected with 'Ghost Boy' felt this song was the second part of their story.
And then, a new notification appeared on his "Milestones" panel.
[MILESTONE UNLOCKED: THE INITIAL CATALOG!]
Progress: 9/10 Songs Published.
Description: You have published nine songs, demonstrating your commitment to creation.
REWARD: Song number ten (10) will unlock the Milestone Roulette at a reduced cost.
Michael read the message. Nine songs. He was so close.
'Ghost Boy'. 'Star Shopping'. 'Sodium'. 'crybaby'. 'White Iverson'. 'Life Is Beautiful'. 'let's pretend we're numb'. 'Paris'. And now, 'Ghost Girl'.
Nine chapters of his diary.
He leaned back in the chair. He was just one song away. One more song to unlock the next roulette.
And he knew exactly which one it would be.
He looked at the icon for the 'Drugs You Should Try It' guide.
It was the most complex. The most atmospheric. The most psychedelic.
It wasn't a raw guitar song. It wasn't an aggressive trap beat. It was a soundscape. It would be the final test of his skill as a producer.
It would be his graduation.
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Mike.
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